Really... How revolting can things get? I'm all set to go to a top notch hospital tomorrow to have them do awful things to me. Why? Well, they are, for some reason I'll never understand, bound and determined to save me. So they are going to do things to me I don't want them to do. Well, OK, I guess I do want them to do what they're going to do, but I don't want it to be necessary, or medically indicated, or whatever the goofy heck the proper description is. What I actually want is to be left alone. I'll take their pills, and pretend to "take care of myself" (yeah, right...), and in general be a semi-good patient. But what I really want is to NOT have a bad heart, and NOT be obliged to undergo all this medical crap. But what I want and what is really on the menu are, apparently, not identical. Or even remotely similar. Oh well...
Anyway, that's what's coming up, and I am really unhappy about it all. On the other hand, since I somehow failed to win any firearms at the recent Friends of the NRA dinner, and since I have been drooling over those new Taurus Thunderbolt reproductions of the Colt Lightning rifle (especially useful for Cowboy Action Shooting - which I'll probably never try anyway), I did order up one, which I can (thanks to the dumbass gun laws here in California) take delivery of at the end of the month, if I'm even still alive. If by some very likely chance I'm not, I guess I won't be picking up that rifle. I wonder - do they have shooting ranges in heaven? As if I'm going to heaven... Anyway, if they don't, why go anyway? So at least I'll have something pleasant (a shiny new rifle, that is) to contemplate as they do unspeakable things to me.
During such unsettling events (dentistry comes to mind) I often think about the nearly imponderable theories such as those describing the origin of the universe, the Big Bang. THAT is really strange - far more so than California's absurd gun laws or the inexplicable desire of these medical people to save me despite my non-cooperation. Anyway, the Big Bang. An interesting aspect of the Big Bang is that it indicates that you, yourself, really are at the center of the universe. Well, not just you, but everyone. There are as many centers of the universe as there are sentient beings wondering where the center of the universe might be. On the other hand, or by other ways of thinking about the question, there really isn't any center of the universe. Both suppositions are equally useful and accurate. Is that fun, or what? I'm sure I'll be giving that one a run though or two, as well as thinking about that new rifle, and what I'd really say to the damned no-good poluticians (typo intended), including Arnie, who signed yet another gun ban, the stupid bastard, if any of them ever asked me what I thought of them, which I'm sure they never will.
OK, I feel a little better now - but still, I'm not too happy about tomorrow.
Back to my home place.