More musing from 'Oldest Living Blogger'....

It's too bad I can't speak to all those kids in Ferguson, Missouri who have been running around with handkerchiefs and bandannas tied over their faces, pretending to be real desperadoes while just looking really stupid and ridiculous, doing things they'll very likely grown up to be ashamed of one day. And what would I tell them?

I woke up this morning with the usual aches and pains of old age; my lower back was aching, and the lower half of my right leg felt cold and numb, like it was maybe trying to die on me, but not succeeding very well. I had indigestion because I'd fallen asleep again with the wireless headphones on, still blaring away on some really mind-numbingly stupid commercial, the subliminal traces of which were still fading as consciousness returned. And I had to go to the bathroom rather urgently....

In there, in the Thundermug Lounge, ruminating on the mysteries of life, some 
cogent observations came; it's said that dying's easy - it's the living that's hard.
Not exactly. Both can be rather difficult and confusing and mysterious. Dying's only easy for those who haven't had a lot of practice at it, and aren't yet that close to its inevitable, inexorable, relentless arrival. Those of us who are far enough along the road of life to be able to clearly see that big checkered sign down there ahead reading 'Dead End' have a much more intense appreciation for that which is behind us and that which may also be ahead.

Most of us don't really appreciate something that we've mostly been taking for granted until we become keenly aware that some day soon, we're going to be losing it, and there isn't any way to stop that whole process, because, as some wit said, 'Life is a terminal illness'.

So no matter how strong your feelings, no matter what your politics, no matter which religion you prefer not to attend but claim to belong to, no matter who you think you are, don't be too anxious to jump into something that might easily shorten your stay amongst us very significantly. Living, after all, being infinitely preferable to most of the alternatives.

And lastly, in the wider Universe, in that infinite space/time Continuum that we know so very little about, it's a fairly sure thing that our most momentous and earth-shaking problems here are not just insignificant there, but our whole world is so infinitismally inconspicuous it's practically non-existent. So please ask yourselves: "What the hell are we fighting about?"