The Coffee Guy's blog

Educate and Emulate, Encourage and Enlighten

The term 'education' is the noun form of the verb educate. It comes from the Middle English educaten; coming from the Latin term educare, educatus meaning 'bring up, rear'; linked to educere meaning 'to lead forth' or 'bring out'. The suffix 'ion' refers to a particular action or process. It could also refer to the result of the same.

What the result is, is learning.  As it turns out, from the Middle Dutch leeren, Dutch leren.  Is it by coincidence, nature or nurture that we have a revelation that from information, you can get to knowledge?  Cogito ergo sum.  This does not mean that just because you are here, you know.  It must be either delivered or encouraged to be brought forth from that which has already been given.

From what we give, is what can be gleaned.  Nothing given, nothing gained.  The zero-sum game played here is unnerving at best.  What is it that we should give?  What is it that we are trying to deliver?  Air, water, land, sound, sight, touch, and taste.  All methods of conveyance.  The receiver must be aware there is something on the way; “I sent you something, didn’t you get the tracking number?”.

My German supplier has a subtle way of delivering the tracking number for which I wait endless days, weeks, and months for consummation of the contract.  Here in the instant world of the interweb thingy and Amazonian deliveries, I ponder the image of arrival.  Daily I get no education from this.  Perhaps weekly there comes a smidgeon of Pidgeon droppings of information bringing my level high.

To end the process of education, one needs to lack cognition.  Lacking cognition means you are no longer there.  Dementia proves this wrong.  It’s the delivery method which must change as well as the receiver.  We still orate, “pick up the phone”, “dial the number”, “tape it”, and many other phrases from the past.  No referential exercise to learn this from other than the intention of language.

Intonation and visual clues lead to odd conclusions.  Even in trended linguistic learning occurs on the streets of the virtual world.  We need more people red pilled into the fact we are at A.C. 646!  Keep your distance.

Make it eddy Edith, some movement in my Cuppa would be nice.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

Ire Isn’t Always Instantly ad Infinitum

Muse what you might from misinformation.  Mine came as a mind storm of mania.  While I am rarely in a state of Ire, at times it’s a good vent for steam in the cranium.  The flushed face of irritancies shows well the extent of one’s pulchritude.

Not my place to judge, my place to allow the effluvial nature exude.  The delight of seeing calm within a stormy offering allows the writer to delight.  It came as a realization when having a parley.  Observation is all part f the act of listening.  You can hear with your eyes and ears.  Similar to tasting with your nose.

Mine is not the Ire I mention, its other’s which is more pleasing.  Whilst I can dredge up that situation which can push you into the state of which we speak, that is not the direction to which I might leadst thou.  Mere mention of a mnemonic might make you muster or mutter.  My favourite from years in higher education was FSYLDSSRB.  Call me if you know.

Don’t let your Ire out if you don’t.  The only flushed face this season should be on the red togged sorts.  Relinquished rallies of rants brings the beauty of colour of your mien.  Are you the emotive type internally or externally?  That within is with all.  I can visually ingest that for days or nights or both. 

Short today Shirley, make it strong.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

Secrets in Society, or Society in Secrets

Sussing out sisters of the nation is difficult at the best of times, Sistering any Joist in a descent Joint can be tedious if nothing else.  And so the tomb of knowledge buries itself in a miasma of societal indifference.  “They” used to call it the “Pablum of the Masses”, well I did, now it’s the incessant race to the bottom of the lowest common denominator.

Passive indifference is the same as passive anything.  One always needs a driver, three eighths or better.  When the world changes at a pace not seen since Ole man Ford made a line, we need guides and getters, finders and fixers.  I was “retired”, have never been busier.

I need to find ANOTHER job to get some time off.   My casual time is at other’s behests.  The telephonic devices have taken over.  I will be on Hiatus for the following 30 days, getting me nearer to the 7th millennium.  There are a select few that can circumvent the ignorant.  There has never been a time more Tome-like than the present. 

I could write a river to the Amazon and still not let the flood gates abate.  Whence cometh the 12 days?  That is when I go on line for the duodecimus days of Christmas songs.   Some old, most new.  I am not a fan of the minor key pushing melancholy out.  It’s a good exercise, and difficult practice. 

Wouldst, thou have this any other way?  If you listen, I appreciate it.  If not, you too will just be part of the Masses dining on Pablum for days and weeks.  Think of the joy and bliss. Delve in delight at delusional dreams of delinquency.  There will be noshing and drinking along the way.  What is your preference for libations?  Perhaps I join you in one.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C., Cee Minus.

In the Wet it Get About as Wet as I Can Get

"Now its raining cats and dogs and I can’t stand croaking frogs."  I know it’s a need for the roots, but I don’t gots no roots.  I just want the crisp cool nights and warm days of fall.  Bring on the colour, bring on the leaves.  No bug rakes needed at this juncture.

Weltern movements wishing washing was easier.  It’s not the notion of the motion it’s the Quaking of the quiver.  The hunt should be nigh over and the stores and larder full.  We bliss with behaviours not regulated by the flourish of the shortened days and darker nights.  Fuel Foraging will begin soon, 8 or 9 bushies should do it.  It’s the outside fire that uses up a lot of the fibrous material, no Damper, no Billie to boil.  Those down-under understand.

But the stock of that amber and yellow liquid builds for those relaxing meditative days and nights by the flame.  Insides warmed by that nectar and the outside soothed by the glow of the burn.  Of days in the fine cosmopolis of Hespeler on the Speed we are banned from the burn, but confidence reigns supreme.  Fire it is, by the ice.

Builds in the garage trudge ahead in await of open roads and venues.  I do have an ice option as well.  I may be employed, it may not. No diff to this dude.  I can ride or not in the cold, is a coulda shoulda thing.  Oft presented options for the ride develop and wane. We have been through this season before.

Western norms make this a time for that orange gourd to rear its ugly flavoured head in brews and baked goods.  Be wary my fledglings, it is an abomination.  You can check the Ferris listing in this medium for a factual analysis.  The atomic half-life is eons, tested and proved.  Never eat anything that lasts that long or doesn’t have that colour in nature.

Fortitude is needed to feast one’s way through the cold times.  The vertical descent on slats will resume again this winter.  Steep, Deep, and Trees is the mantra.  Muggles away, and child pollution at a minimum.  Mostly mired in moguls, many miss the serenity and challenge of the aforementioned terrains.

Projects will abound inside through the colder months, however stimulus if brought in from the cold.  That clarity that comes with the dry air cleanses the mind easily.  We have nothing but a large dark coloured bang to thank for the orbs turn and tilt.  The variety in climes as a dream of the imaginary sky friend to some.  Could it be so distinct, could the thought be that clear, the precision alone is startling.

I posit the world spins positively.  The upside of the downside moving up and up side moving down is uplifting.  Only an atom of a chance in hades could bring the primordial soup to this conclusion.

Make it a Scotch Shot Coffee today Clariss.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C.

The Fall of Autumn is Upon Us

With the Equinox nigh, that which falls will tell the tale.  In the age of A.C. (see previous posts on this blog) is it an omen that the date this Fall will be on A.C. 555?  In Byzantine days of yore, Justinian the First fell from grace.  As you know the writer is not so superstitiously bent.  However, one does draw enjoyment from coincidence.

Jung read it as synchronicity.  The world is connected as dendrites in your brain.  The dimming of evening and morning illumination leads me to ever yearn more for the outside.  My pacific morning coffee now held in my dark hand has invisible steam creating dew on my wrist.

Coolness factors in on the days as they warm and cool faster and more augmentedly.  The rise and fall of the mercury almost wavelike.  Soon will come those who have not read about Ferris in my posts.  The numbers run in my head almost by memory.  Please don’t pump that kin of pie.  We all are aware of the misgivings of that pap being ingested.

Summer days faded into Autumn, cooling the air and stilting growth.  Soon cooler days and moderate nights will bring colours in trees and the greys of Fall.  Rain to feed through the winter, stores of nutrients awaiting the freeze.  No languishing animals now: all filling their larders with winter food.

Should I too amass more to store?  The filling of the pantry not high on my list: I prefer to minimize not maximize.  Lest there be a shortage, I will go guerilla.  Raid my neighbours and pilfer from the unaware.  Preparation is in the mind of the expectant.  My slithy toves abound in the ‘hood.  I can get it if I need it.

I have but one cranium that I need to fill.  That is my only desire. All other materiel’s can be gotten and forgotten too easily.   That which resides inside is what is hard to find and retain.  If education were a need, too many would be starving.  The forgotten organ to be fed the pablum of the universe until its able to gnaw of larger bites of the steak of life.

Too many rely on the ubiquitous “they” for cognitive sustainability.  Sustenance of not always nutritious.  There must be a feeding of the frontal and parietal lobes as much as the pecs and lats. Read other than news, digest data and dossiers, glean from good reads, its not all a 24-hour news cycle.

Slip some sugar in the black today, Shirley, I like it French.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C.

Pepe Purloined Plants from my Plot

Morning coffee enriches the blend by being drank outside.  Surveying the swath of land before me I sight damage done, the deed complete.  10 or 12 stalks horizontal with ears missing or ravaged.  I provide a sumptuous crop of grass full of bugs for you to excavate while in turn you aerate my lawn.  Is there no respect in your world my fair Mephitis mephitis.

And no, that is not a misprint, you, must use both terms for the stripped skunk.  I surmise that because u have a skin of his brethren on my motorcycle seat, he is getting back at me.  Such petty animalistic behavior.   I thought more of you.

The pictures I posted and video I shot of you posturing around in the rising of the sun, you owe me more.  I don’t smell and you don’t stink, except in an actionable way.  Should I litigate?  Would that make you happy?  Would you feel exonerated in your peeling and gnawing on my corn patch?

I know we are not “on the land” per se, but you could have asked.  I can fetch machine grown cobs any time.   Hand grown is so much sweeter, it only shows your snooty dietary preferences for the best.   Let me tell you the best is yet to come if your behaviour persists.  I too can get my own Skunk pelt locally if need be.  Take heed my striped friend.

At the juncture I am leaning toward the LePew, more than the Pepe.

Pour some deep filtered, Fanny.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C.

Curbing Corona Carefully Creates Challenges

Sos’a we all know my opining is off the charts at times.  My issue in these chronic Corona times is with the graphs and charts people find, create, source, or further.  Data is Dangerous without understanding. Numbers are nasty if you the source or the reason is nefarious.

People assume that if “WHO” or “John” Hopkins” is somewhere on a chart, that the said depiction is accurate and defendable.  Au Contraire mon ami!  The use of an accredited source simply stuck on some information does not always accredit the information.  Information can be acquired from a source then manipulated to the user’s delight.

There are numbers, then there are numbers.  On one extreme you have the naysayers, and on the other extreme you have the Vox Populi telling you the sky is falling.  What we don’t have are coherent, thought out informative numbers breaking down infection by socio-economic strata, age breakdowns, delineation by income and country,  guided statistics by travel habits and travel destinations, information based on health systems and availability of health services.  Cumulative data based on education and occupation.

Those and others are useful breakdowns.  Raw numbers are useless at worst, and dangerous at best.  In the beginning we all wanted the numbers, or at least the “media” called for them.  Given said numbers they all went off and either called foul or pheasant.  None of which had any import on behavior or informing.

One would hope that in the end, we will get the proper analysis, probably from some Grad student who will write a Thesis which after peer review will be stuck in a Journal and never read again.  Sadly, this is how information is digested.   Moronically, this is how “The Media” and “People” will regale and revel in the aftermath.

I have used one mantra in my existence through these times. FATTOM.

All micro organisms need these to exist and procreate.  They require a Food source, They require the proper Acidity.  They Require the requisite Time and Temperature for existence. They will all require some form or limit of Oxygen, and finally they will need some limit of Moisture.

Period.

Make your existence aware of their necessities and you can keep your sanity for another day.  Live by this and you will be safe in my humble opinion.

I like the pour to be hot Harriet, Pour fast and stop clean.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C

There is no PC in an AC World, Power of the People

There is now a new time reference. You heard it here first. It will be common to say things like, "in the days P.C., we would do such and such." Or perhaps "It's not been done A.C. like it was done P.C." The new terms of course refer to Pre-Covid, and After-Covid. This will be the norm. You read it here first!

Why this is important, the last date reference was based on a death, and an un substantiated resurrection. Now too will the death and resurrection be the standard. Its just as well, I am tired of so many numbers in the dates. Oh yeah there will be a few issues like all the spaces on cheques and computer forms for the date.

On the up side, I can use a bit of 001 in my life. We will all be number 1. Might even drop the whole Gregorian month thing and just use the number of the day of the year. Easy peasy. We are used to it now as we are all counting days of confinement. Just carry on down the number.

So here 26 A.C. I scribble my musings mostly mistakenly on my Motherboard. Posing postulations post haste. Today to sanitize or sort old photos. Both boring, both time consuming, both satisfying. As Time Banking has not yet caught on, (see the post on this blog), this may in fact be a time to pick up that gavel and bash on the international time system. Atomic clocks be damned.

Have any of you visited on of the three sites on the orb that distribute the international time signal? I have. The array of antennae is immense, each site has three atomic clocks that transmit the “exact” time. Set up to operate in perpetuity. Generators, back-ups of back-ups. We could toss this whole system A.C..

Even though the irritating world dominance of OLD time systems. We are at a possible cusp of change. No bicuspid for me.

Cherish that grind Crisinda, I like it dark and swirling.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019, also A.C

Its Time to Revisit Time Banking Again

Blogged about back in the time when time was not as valuable as it is now. Perhaps this makes it a worthwhile time saving venture. No investment necessary. Positions are open. Do not apply on line easily. This is for serious applicants only.

It’s a simple time saver. There are those times when there is not enough time to complete a task or job. Then there are those times when there you lollygag about wasting time just because that task or job needed less time than you planned for. Parenthetically, never end a sentence in a preposition.

Sos’a you understand acrectly, you have both limited time, and time surpluses. The trick it to be able to take those surpluses and transfer them to the deficiencies. Time banking. I know this sounds absurd, but accountants do this with funds all the time…no pun intended or implied.

When you are on the jobs when you are just putting in time to fill the void, you take that time and put it in the Time Bank. Then when your job is prolonged, you take those units of time, be they days, hours, minutes, or seconds, and draw them out of your Time Bank.

I know this sounds a little absurd at first. The same issue was with standardized time across the world at first. One of our own no doubts solved that. Flemming devised the time zone system used to this day in most of the modern world. So, flash forward a coupla hundred years and we are ready for the next big system update. Time Banking.

It’s a small thing for everybody to buy into. It’s the Everybody which is critical. Not local, not regional, not country wide, not on one continent. World wide. No web left unaccounted for. Even the lefties and the indentured, and dentured. Young and old as it were. It’s a total buy in. In fact, everybody gets the same time and works on the same time.

Efficient people bank time, slackers don’t get any more. There is no interest. You can’t bank 100 hours then pull 115 out in a couple of years. Simple in and out accounting. Done by you, for you, in time. Those of you who like their present time, will be even on their account most of the time.

Make it a nice dark one this time Tina.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019

It’s a Gonna be a Long Night…..again.

So, there are these people I know of, read carefully now, who will be standing near a large ring of stones. Catch an eye as they spy through about why, but not the ex. No axes here.

Its that semi annual date when we rue the changes. Long to short, short to long, almost my old party line ring; long, short, long. The times are after all. We long wait for the shorter days to end and are too short on the long days of summer it seems. Some grass is always out of reach. Of course, not in the nation state of good ole Canada. The grass always seems to be available.

So not only the Nazca lines align, so do other monoliths and arranged clods of colossuses on the orb. Only tinker tales and toils of waiting and watching, noting and denoting brought these formations forth. Too few have seen them and too few are aware. But alignment is not only for the mechanics. Even the stationary and non-stationary time pieces require proper alignment.

But does the Henge mark time, or only THE time? Are there marching orders rising from beneath the great and lesser pyramids? Will the meek inherit the orb, or will some rise out of the miasma and show us light not seen in the past. Thinking only proves you have thought. My good buddy Descartes.

But on this very long dark and not so stormy night I will and always will stare up into the vacuum of space and wonder what I would do when the opposite holds its truth. Summer is the other. Shorter comest with patience. Another kind of oxymoron really; because of you wait long enough it will become shorter.

Perhaps this is where the translation from “still” becomes “silent” in that carol. Silent Night. In German its Stille Nacht. I know what you are thinking. But let us look at the etymology of the word “still”. May be harder for some, but I have the OED complete with the 240,000 spurious words listing.

“Still” originates from the low German and high Dutch word “Stille”. From the root “Stel” to put, or to stand. Not in motion. So, here is why we both sing Silent Night at this time of year as well as the reason for using the word “Silent” rather than “Still”. The sun at the solstices appears not to move higher or lower in the sky as it is reaching its highest point and/or lowest point. Hence it appears to be still. The slip to “Silent” occurs for two reasons. One, the musical cadence requires two syllables. And two, the deeper High German meaning of “Stel”, the origin of “Stille” has a secondary meaning of silent.

The song at Christmas is sung as an homage to the solstice. About and near when the recognized birth of Christ occurred. Save it to say, that if you are of the ilk that you have no place to stay, and you are overnighting in barns and hovels, your calendar work is probably a little fuzzy. The solstice is the time I believe.

Curl that coffee with some cheer Charmaine.

Mark Hull Du Calumet, First of the coterie of York, Son of Don, Scion of Karl in the House of Pfunkstadt, Connubial of Suzanne, Yeoman to the Hun of Honda, Prevailing in the Seat of Hespeler, Having been again to Australia, and now Grandad's Land, and for some, from The Dark Side. Not am Main nor ab der Elba, but down the Donau, and with Turkish Chai. #garagelurker2019