Which Reminds Me

Yes, it does make you wonder, why are these people so incredibly paranoid about my possibly hearing something about them and then maybe repeating it unthinkingly, parrot-like to everyone on the planet. I know we all want to control our own publicity machine, but somehow these basic human rights are denied to me. Only they get whatever they want and I get nothing.

Which Reminds Me

Why all of this chatter about Amalekites? The Amalekites were utterly destroyed in ancient Bible times, so there is nothing more to say about them. They disappeared from history and no trace of them remains that we know of. Gamesters looking for Amalekites to kill, be aware that we are not them. There is also the superstitious idea of butchers somehow being Amalekites. Coincidentally, one of my great-grandfathers was a butcher by trade. Even so, there is no Amalekite tradition here. Where is your DNA evidence of Amalekite heritage? You only wish you could find Amalekites somewhere on the planet to fulfill your gamester game plan, but we cannot help you with that. Dig around some more and maybe you will find your own Edomite or Moabite or Girgashire or Perizzite or Hivite issues. Who knows what might be revealed by DNA historical research.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, it is true that I have no cannery work experience in my portfolio/resume. A can opener is a necessary fixture of any modern American kitchen, I grant you that much. However, I have consistently refused these various attempts to recruit me into a labor union. Labor unions have gone too far in terms of trying to govern every detail of our personal lives. Working conditions for the most part are very good in today's American industries, at least far better than if you go to certain places overseas where the wages are cheap and there are no legal restraints on child labor, no holidays, no vacations, etc. Here in the U.S. I feel no compelling necessity to enlist in any labor union at this time.

Of course, there are some jobs that require labor union membership. Fortunately for me, I have not chosen any career that required labor union membership.

It is true that my grandparents, who died in the 1970s, may have worked at canneries at some time or another during their lifetimes and thus might have also had some experience with labor unions. My mother told me about her cannery experience and how they had to slow her down from working too hard because then everybody has to work too hard to catch up with her.

Maybe someday I will get around to finally reading that dreary book, "The Grapes of Wrath," of which I never got past the first few pages in Oklahoma. You are so stupid you probably thought that John Steinbeck was a historian. No, he was a fiction writer and said probably just as much about his own twisted version of reality as about the reality itself, although I really can't say much about that. I never read that book.

We really don't care to be reminded that Cannery Row, a very nice shopping center and tourist attraction, originally had a very different purpose. I really wouldn't know anything about that. I am not old enough to remember that. Obviously. You won't get very much information out of me. I only know what I read in books.

I only know what I hear in songs, such as Woody Guthrie's famous, "This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land." He also wrote something about a machine that kills fascists, which I recently found on Youtube, but, yes, I really am not a huge fan of that type of folk music, although there are some good songs there, if you can stand to sift through all of the not-so-good songs. Life is short. So many songs, so little time.

Which Reminds Me

I confess only that I am not entirely deaf to the voices around me, and thus if my behavior can be adjusted slightly by the receipt of new information, how is that wrong? How does that make me a spy? Only later do we learn that actually Kathy was the spy.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, you would think that all of these people would come crawling on hands and knees begging forgiveness for all of their slanderous lies attacking me, and yet who knows if that would ever happen. In the meantime, I must be Christlike. I must turn the other cheek and walk the extra mile. Even so, that said, you bully-brats certainly have no place to try to represent me. You simply understand nothing, obviously. Needless to say.

And even if I did someday decide to hire a lawyer to represent me, all I can say for sure is: NOT YOU! Needless to say. 

Which Reminds Me

What a weird question. I do not recall discussing the contents of my report card with anyone on the dorm floor, sometimes the mind just goes blank with all of these self-derogatory comments not meant for public consumption. You could always ask someone, maybe the Hurd sisters, Cynthia and Rhonda, why they were snooping around and going through my personal papers. At the time I was rooming with Jan Green, who has nothing so very interesting to say about anything. I really don't care if I never see those people again. What a mess!

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I can easily see that you have mistaken me for one of those vicious nasty Swedish Nordic witches whose weapons are a mystery to me. If those Nordic Nasties are going to be running the AG in future, then perhaps I will need to find some other pew on which to park myself on Sunday mornings. Eventually. Needless to say.