Anarchy Redo; Inventional Wisdom


So. First, I want to thank my good buddies the Reckmonster, Miss Thundercat832 and Squatlo for lending me so much support yesterday. I was feeling a great loss with the revelation that the word “anarchy” has no meaning. I had reached the conclusion that there can be no actual anarchy. I’m not going to rehash all of that, look up yesterday’s bloggie posting to catch up if you need.

As usual, I was unclear as to precisely what my problem is as it relates to my anarchy dilemma. OK, wait. What I just said was unclear as well. To be precise, what I meant to say is that I did not write words that stated exactly why I was in a dilemma over losing anarchy as a meaningful word. I know exactly what my dilemma is.

Ever notice how similar dilemma is to enema? I think that is one of nature’s intelligent coincidences. Like Rick and Prick.


Holy shit, that felt good. It is quite difficult to say, but feels so very good in your mouth. Like “rubber baby buggy bumpers.” Say the fast and repeatedly.

Oh, and try this one. Say, “butt crack, butt crack, butt crack…..” as fast as you can, over and over. Start slow and then speed up like a choo-choo train pulling away from the station. I can guarantee that you will be “bucking” like a chicken.

I discovered that one way back when Dr. Sam I. Am-Johnson and I were first married. She was in the bed all sexed up and ready to tango, and I was having trouble getting my clothes off. I was in such a hurry to get my pants off that I managed to tangle pants and undies and twisted them tight at my waist. I guess a large portion of my ass was exposed as I struggled and Sam was making fun of me. She said, “Butt crack, butt crack, butt crack,” and started laughing.

Then I mimicked her, “Butt crack, butt crack, butt crack.”

She started back at me and went, “Butt crack, butt crack, butt cra, buck, buck, buck, buc, buc….”

We did this for hours. Try it, it will make you laugh like a kid getting tickled.

Anyway, my sense of loss of the word anarchy isn’t at the loss of losing anarchy as a means to govern. I’m not in favor of government by unruly mob. We’ve already got that here in Texas and I find it unsettling. My deep sense of loss lies instead in the yangness of the word. Maybe that should be yangity. Yangamonity? Yanger?

OK, try this. My trouble is that without a true definition to anarchy, I don’t have a yang to the yin that is right-wing Christian fuckball legislator-dominated politics.

See, my main method to control my ADHD-fueled thoughts is organization. Much of that organization comes in the form of routinization. You know, like what I posted a few days ago where I have specific routines to perform certain tasks to prevent mental de-railings.

Take, for example, the high art of peeing in sinks. Say I’m in an unfamiliar bathroom to pee. I won’t just whip it out and start peeing right away. I have a routine:

  1. Ascertain the length of excess, open counter top between counter top front edge and the leading edge of sink bowl.
  2. Compare the length observed in number 1, above, to length of personal penis.
  3. If length of penis is greater than observed length of open counter top in Number 1, above, skip step Number 6.
  4. If penis length is shorter than observed length of open counter top, remember to lean forward on tippy toes to insure that penis cap remains over sink bowl at all times.
  5. Observe and evaluate flooring. If carpeted floor, move to step 6. If hard flooring (tile, wood, flagstone, etc.), remove any rugs from underfoot, then practice leaning forward on tippy toes to insure solid footing.
  6. Move toothbrushes, night guard dealies for teeth grinders, reading glasses and such to an area at least two feet from sink edge.
  7. Check sink bowl for “splash-making” obstacles. These would include drain plugs not properly seated, those funky crenelated cultured marble sinks and also sinks that are flat and shallow.


OK, stop. That was a major fucking digression.

A second method of organization to help me focus is to categorize things, like: good/bad; right/wrong; weak/strong and so on.

The third way, and applicable to this conversation, is a variation of the second method I call “yin and yang”. It helps me to calm some of the many lines of thoughts spinning in my brain if I can pair them with their polar opposites. Say, for instance, sex and root canal dentistry. A yin, and a yang.

Or maybe rescuing an abandoned ostrich named Rick Perry, gay man, and the act of leaving said ostrich abandoned on a country road. Another yin with a yang.

See, the only one-word descriptive I can conjure as the yang to my state’s current government used to be “anarchy”. Most of you would say that the polar opposite of 100% Christian belief-structured rule is 100% atheistic belief-structured rule. Right?

But that isn’t a yang for me. I would be just as unhappy with a fully atheistic government for the same reasons I hate what we have now. It’s simple. I want a government that refuses to rule based upon a religious philosophy.

Ugh. I think I just made this whole discussion even more muddled. I have no idea what I am trying to say.

How about this? Drink Carta Blanca beer, vote as much with your heart as with your head, have a heart, and………………


That really feels good. Manana, y’all.

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5 Responses to “Anarchy Redo; Inventional Wisdom”

  1. Squato says:

    This sink-peeing thing really is a science with you, isn’t it? I don’t get that detailed about ANYTHING I do… which probably explains why my lovely wife mutters things about my ancestry whenever she cleans the bathrooms.

    I was over at Jazzbumpa’s place and he’s got a post (in conjunction with Rude Pundit) in which he talks about Wisconsin’s Governor Walker’s DEAD EYES, and that made me realize THAT’s what creeps me out most about that asshole. He has dead, lifeless, shark-like eyes, and they never change while he speaks. It’s like he’s the Manchurian Candidate in a trance. Your governor, on the other hand, has nice lively eyes. He’s in there, alive and kicking, not in a trance at all. He’s the real deal. Bright enough to be dangerous… and we know dullness well from the LAST Republican governor you Texans sent to DC. I think for that offense alone Texas should volunteer to be the home target of every fucking hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico for next eight years, at least as long as Bush was in office. Just grab your ankles and lean back into it. Damned if we didn’t all have to assume the position for Bush…

    But you’re right. Fuck Rick Perry.

  2. You are indeed a funny and crazy man. Anarchy is plain and simply family. Ask anyone who has [many] children. The mob rarely respects the current leadership in place, and devotes massive brainpower to attempting to thwart or overthrow it before the individuals within its ranks reach legal voting age. You may rest now.

    Thanks also for visiting my blog. Enjoyed your story last night.

  3. admin says:

    Frag. Thanks for the kind words but I’m still stuck. When lawlessness rules, them’s still rules. Ugh. I want to encourage folks to go visit the Fragrant Liar. She’s one of the most popular bloggers in the universe. [funny too!]

  4. Mooner, I have to say, as The Reckmonster, LCSW (yesssss, I am a therapist too!) – I am concerned about your mental health. What strikes me is that you are engaging in a therapeutic relationship with a person you have a “butt crack” history with. That’s not so kosher. I realize that Dr. Sam has to keep her art collections funded, but maybe you could just write her a check to shut her up and go seek therapy somewhere else, say, with someone who charges “normal” rates. Someone you don’t have a butt crack history with. I don’t know how much of Texas that negates, but maybe you could cross state lines. What do you think? Do it for Squirt, man.

  5. admin says:

    Reck. I wish I had read your comment before I posted what I just did. I’m headed to grab the Squirt for a little fishing and beer guzzling. Icy-cold Carta Blanca, of course.

    I understand your concern for my incestuous psycho therapy relationship. But trust me when I say that I have sent more therapists to early graves and extended stays at loony bins than you can count.

    Thanks for your concern.

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