I write and write and write and sometimes it feels like, so what?... like have the last few or dozen or more entries been noticed by most of you or do most just catch the current entry whenever you happen to stop by and the rest that passed are missed?... how many do how many miss?...

I suppose those of you who take the time to read them all are the ones who care, and yet, I care and don't find time to read all of the entries of all of the people I'd love to know better and meet in the physical world, so it's a lot of hit and miss, a lot of random connecting, a whole lot of chance encounters...

just like life...

I relate so well to the Phantom of the Opera, particularly to the phantom... how being misunderstood and feeling things so much deeper than most dare to because you had the luxury (or curse) of having much solitary thinking and feeling and creating time... how wanting to be loved and being rejected by parents and everyone else can drive one to levels of hunger for love and affection (or just recognition) that can drive a mind beyond the limits of what we commonly call sanity...

like would actually choose to give up everything for love?... and if you could not be with him or her or them (your loved ones), would you live on the street or in a car in order to give those you love everything you earn and can give?... would you give your life?... a far far better thing you've ever done?...

yes, we went to see Phantom of the Opera today and have been singing every since... I've been singing (and dreaming) some of the songs from the show for years and seeing them acted out on film was just a recharge for those dreams... how powerful trust and belief can be, how painful when trust is betrayed and belief is broken... I've lived the power and the betrayal/breaking... and how I long to share the trust and feel the shared power of such trust again... longing, lonely, longing, lament, lonely, sigh...

so I have another cookie...

before the movie we went to Chipolte for lunch and after the movie we went to Steak and Shake for dessert... we thought about meeting a couple of people for bowling and then the Melting Pot for dessert, but decided we did not want to drive across town for that and then home where the roommies turned on the TV for movies and there was 50 First Dates, Once Upon A Time In Mexico, In The Cut, Being There, The Sixth Day, and others... I mostly wrote and wandered the web...

I found lots of wonderful stuff to read and caught up on some favorites and along the way, one of the things I found was some supposed dirt on Johnny Carson and that inspired the following potentially controversial thoughts (oh my, huh?)...

from my personal perspective and experience with human beings, when people point at others and speak the word prejudice, it is as often (of course not always, just often) their own projections of their own insecurities as much as it might be a correct judgment of their interpretation of what is in the mind of the person they are pointing at...

so Johnny Carson dies after choosing to live a private life for how many years, ten, fifteen, more?... after four decades or more as an active commedian (comedian, that's someone who tries to create comedy... comedy, that's something you can interprete just about any way you want to) he did many ten thousand comedy bits, maybe more?... and what do we find if not some people trying to read his mind and decide his intentions in two isolated bits out of many thousands...

racial prejudice, they claim... I commented:

if we look at anything with a negative perspective, we will find negativity... anyone with intelligence can usually find what they are looking for in comedy, because comedy (especially bad comedy) is an attempt to make us laugh through counterpoint and juxtaposition and confusing ideas and unexpected presentation and props and costume... Don Rickles was known for insulting humor which often included racial stereotyping and Johnny was mocking Rickle's brand of shock-insult humor... as for the blackface parody, have you seen any of the seventies all-black TV shows (Jeffersons, Good Times, What's Happening, etc)?... they are racially degrading to African Americans, or they are people secure in their social identity laughing at themselves... comedy is putting people into ridiculous situations in ridiculous costumes saying ridiculous things... and much of comedy comes from laughing at ourselves for our faults, fears, and prejudices are high on that list... by mocking the prejudices and stereotypes, we open a dialogue about how stupid and laughable taking them seriously can be... trying to interprete comedy as serious prejudice may say a lot more about those interpreting than the actual comedy or commedians... but then, this comment might be a parody of a serious comment about how ridiculous comedy critics can be... you see through your eyes...

and I wonder if I should assume radosh is sexist (that would be prejudiced against women, womanizer, seeing women as sex objects, or some such negative interpretation) based on a quick look at the photos below the stretch-to-slap at Johnny?... or perhaps the truth is that pedophelia is behind the frequent call for 6-12 year old girl Huckapoo fans to the site...

naaa, that would be reading way too much into someone I've never met based on a brief look at a tiny portion of what radosh might be presenting on the web and all that may just be a public persona (maybe not even a real name), a performance for us that may or may not be completely representative of everything the person who created and writes the site is about...

how would I know?...

kind of like judging a TV personality's personal perspectives and beliefs based on a couple of brief comedy bits he probably didn't even write or think too much about in the course of rushing to prepare six shows a week for thirty or more years...

in closing, I would like to thank juddhole for the graphic information about the dangers of living in Montana too long... I am rethinking my take on the Frank Zappa song now...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)