Jonathots Daily Blog
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Jonathots Daily Blog
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It is so much easier to deal with humans if you treat them as if they were people instead of elevating them to the status of little gods or demeaning them as raging demons.
If it’s presented to mankind as too spiritual or too intellectual, it is doomed. People are not particularly spiritual and only use their more brain-oriented side when it’s absolutely necessary.
Let me explain it this way. If you’re going to tell any person about something, there are three immediate questions that come to his or her mind:
Please do not think I’m marginalizing the masses. I’m just saying that Joe Schmoe and Jane Doe are visual.
Here come the questions.
“Where are they? “
“Well, uh, uh, ah…well, not in any particular place…”
“What are they like?”
“They’re like…well, like a horse, with a horn in the middle of its head…”
“Do you have a picture?”
“By picture, do you mean photograph, or would you accept a third grader’s drawing?”
You see what I mean?
Pizza, for instance.
“Where is it?”
“They make it at pizza places.”
“Ok—what is it like?”
“It’s got dough, sauce, cheese, and any topping you’d like.”
“Cool. Do you have a picture?”
“Yes. I actually do. We ordered a pizza last night, and it looked so delicious we took a picture of it and posted it on Instagram, trying to make our neighbors jealous.”
Now, if you’ve followed the premise so far, understand that if the answers to all three questions are reasonable, then what you have shared will be considered a reality.
But let’s say that two of the questions asked are answered well but one is not. In that case, most folks will consider it possible but not certain.
One question answered? Then unlikely.
Zero? We dub it stupid.
May I highlight this process with an example?
Santa Claus.
“Where is he?”
“Well…I know this is a little hard to believe but he’s at the North Pole.”
“So what is he like?”
“He’s fat, jolly and likes to give toys to all the girls and boys. He seems to rhyme all the time.”
“Okay. Do you have a picture?”
“Oh, yes. There are pictures, drawings, sketches—all over the place.”
Now you understand why Santa Claus still hangs around. To some people, he may be unlikely; to others, a great possibility—but he’s never stupid.
It’s the old principle of vaudeville:
So whenever you’re trying to sell your ideas, please keep the three questions in mind—even if you’re talking about God. Because here comes the first question.
“Where is he?”
“Ah…umm…he’s somewhere in heaven.”
“Well, that’s not much help. What’s he like?”
“Some say mean. Others say violent. A whole bunch of people think he’s loving to most but pissed at others. And I think there’s even a religion that believes there’s a thousand gods.”
And the final question:
“Do you have a picture?”
“No, I don’t. Nobody does.”
This is why all of us sprout some doubt about the reality of God, and in moments of weakness, may think he’s unlikely, or even that the whole idea is stupid.
An asshole is the person who demands that people believe things they don’t understand.
A humble person knows that he or she is also human, is fully aware of the three questions, and does his or her best to break new revelations down to simpler realizations.
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Big Jon gave immediate heed to the call. He shimmied his way over to the box, lifted the lid, pulled out a piece and started to eat it, crust first.
Then came Scary Gary. When he arrived, the host also welcomed him with the generous offering of pizza. Scary Gary inched his way over and started lifting box lids, asking, “What kind did you get?”
The host, just a wee bit perturbed, replied, “Cheese, pepperoni, sausage and vegematic.”
Scary Gary grabbed a piece of cheese and waltzed into the room.
Then came Fussy Freddie. The host, still cheery, but a bit wary, said, “Come on in! We got pizza for everyone.”
Fussy Freddie paused, then walked very slowly over to the pizza boxes, and without lifting a single lid, demanded, “What flavors?”
The host cautiously replied, “Cheese, pepperoni, sausage and vegematic.”
First, Fussy Freddie did not find ‘vegematic’ humorous. He cited, “May I give you a suggestion? When you hold a party like this you might want to ask your guests what pizza toppings they prefer, so as to honor more tastes than simply your own.”
Fussy Freddie decided to pass on the pizza. He didn’t stay very long—mainly because everybody was afraid to talk to him, knowing that his subject matter was bitching about the party.
Now, let me explain. Over the years I have written about every subject under the sun and now seem to be heading into a new galaxy. But one thing I have stopped doing with my scribblings is presenting too many opinions, or for that matter, trying to be overly informative.
They line up everything they like and then give a name to it.
Whether this is political, religious or secular, their preferences become their faith.
So all I can do is help myself—and everyone I come in contact with—by stating what seems to be permissible for Earth interaction.
You can feel free to pick—in other words, there’s pizza there. Take a piece.
At a certain amount of risk, you can be picky. You can make it obvious that you have a preference of one thing over another.
Even though we extol the power of our demands as a way of expressing our uniqueness, the human race as a whole considers it bratty to be prickly.
Pick? Yes.
Picky? Be careful.
Prickly? Goodnight, my love, goodnight.
It doesn’t matter what it’s about.
When you hear music, do you pick it up and enjoy it, no matter what style it is? Or do you criticize one style and tell people what you prefer? Or, worst of all, do you insist there’s only one kind of music—the tunes you revere.
Pick a candidate. I guess you can be picky. But don’t be prickly. Don’t insist the person you want to vote for is the Second Coming of Charisma.
Pick a god. If you’re going to be picky about it, nobody is going to listen to you anyway. And if you get prickly and demand that EVERYONE bow to your God, be prepared to have a large defense budget and find the initiative and end up killing people.
And the greatest notion I can give you on love is, pick someone you know who will probably continue to be thrilled to be with you. Don’t get so picky that you end up hunting out of your jungle and your appeal level. And please, don’t be prickly—unless you want to write a book on the joys of being alone.
One keeps the door open to humanity, one makes humanity suspicious and the final one just pisses the hell out of everybody.
Jonathots Daily Blog
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I was there, live and in person, when “golly” surrendered, without a shot, to “OMG.” Oh, My God.
Likewise, when “Geez” transformed into “Jesus H. Christ.”
Darn it, after that, “heck” didn’t have a chance. “Damn” and “hell” reigned supreme for quite a season.
Then people stopped referring to the “butt of a joke” and screamed at you to “get off your ass.”
Time passed.
It seemed like “give a shit” would hang around, but the times, they are a’changin’.
Here comes “what the fuck.”
“Fuck” is like an old friend who got lost in the wilderness but came back into the house, was ready to sleep on the sofa and willing to throw in a few bucks for pizza.
It stuck closer than a brother.
It became a noun, an adjective, a verb, an interjection—and I do believe I have even heard it used, from time to time, as an adverb: (“…he said fuckily…”)
This disturbs many people, who yearn for the time when language was carefully watched by censoring forces who desired that anything untoward would not cross the ears of young children, or even mature adults.
We most certainly know that Rhett Butler would never say, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn,” if he was able to let Scarlett know that he didn’t “give a fuck.”
It is not the profanity of f-u-c-k that makes it particularly nasty. Although overused, it is not the foulness of the word that creates a problem. It’s just that on the journey from “golly” to “fuck” we got angrier.
We’re not using the language to be clever or cute. We’re using the word because we’re more pissed off than we used to be.
We even tease with a friendly “fuck” to remind people that just beneath the surface is a bubbling oil, ready to spill out and burn anyone in sight if they dare cross our path.
It would be absolutely fine if we could “fuck this, fuck that” and “fuck the other” if it was accompanied by a smile instead of gritting teeth.
It may be necessary to back off the language just to give us the chance to regain some civility. Because you can tell me I’m dumb all day long and I may not like it, but if you tell me to go fuck myself, we’re at war.
So let us not be childish.
First, let’s not be Puritans, pretending that language can be controlled and taken back to an 1853 purity.
But also, let’s not be so idiotic as to assume that the rampant use of more and more “fucks” in our society does not mean that we’ve lost control and no longer have the ability to deal rationally with each other, without tempers flaring.
This is not because it’s particularly profane, but because it is a precursor to violent behavior.
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Jonathots Daily Blog
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B. He likes to watch Russians dressing
C. His hair is real. Other things…not so much.
D. The Trump Tower is actually a building.
E. Donald Trump is the President of the United States.
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art by smarrttie panntts
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A voice writing in the wilderness
Jonathots Daily Blog 
