Wraxtiorre

I don't want a mirror image to make an iron-on decal, I actually want to reverse the order of the letters, but do it letter-for-letter, including spaces and punctuation. I tried recording a simple macro, but all it did was to move the text to the end of the page in the same sequence. For example,

"?efiL fo gninaem eht si tahW" instead of "What if the meaning of Life?"

I asked a question about Light traveling at the speed of light several years ago, but it cannot be correct.

"Now, we all know that Einstein said that Time slows down progressively for a traveler who is accelerating towards the speed of light. He also says that--theoretically-- time stops for a traveler who is traveling AT the speed of light, and--also theoretically--time travels in reverse for a traveler who is traveling faster than the speed of light. Unfortunately for Sci-Fi fans, he also said that no traveler can ever "cross the lightspeed barrier." Now, get this!

I always knew that Light travels at the speed of Light, and that time does not move for an object that is moving at the speed of light, but I also knew that it was impossible for any object to travel at exactly the speed of light (unless it was a photon, of course). But the light that we see--the REAL light that exists around us everywhere--actually does travel at the speed of light and therefore is always everywhere all at once because it does not take time to get there! If you have ever watched a Marching Band from Upper mezzanine across a stadium, you have seen the "time" it takes for sound to travel at the speed of sound. But how can one imagine that Light itself does not travel in that same sense--it essentially is already there, shining on whatever is in its path for infinity!

But it would hinge on the notion that time stops for objects (or light) traveling AT the speed of light. Does it? If not, why not?

I asked a question about Light traveling at the speed of light several years ago, but it cannot be correct.

"Now, we all know that Einstein said that Time slows down progressively for a traveler who is accelerating towards the speed of light. He also says that--theoretically-- time stops for a traveler who is traveling AT the speed of light, and--also theoretically--time travels in reverse for a traveler who is traveling faster than the speed of light. Unfortunately for Sci-Fi fans, he also said that no traveler can ever "cross the lightspeed barrier." Now, get this!

I always knew that Light travels at the speed of Light, and that time does not move for an object that is moving at the speed of light, but I also knew that it was impossible for any object to travel at exactly the speed of light (unless it was a photon, of course). But the light that we see--the REAL light that exists around us everywhere--actually does travel at the speed of light and therefore is always everywhere all at once because it does not take time to get there! If you have ever watched a Marching Band from Upper mezzanine across a stadium, you have seen the "time" it takes for sound to travel at the speed of sound. But how can one imagine that Light itself does not travel in that same sense--it essentially is already there, shining on whatever is in its path for infinity!

But it would hinge on the notion that time stops for objects (or light) traveling AT the speed of light. Does it?

In my article-series, most readers have claimed that I unsuccessfully debunked the Escaped Lunatic's Conspiracy Theory rants, and that he still sounds crazy. Clearly, the point of my text is a discussion of mass media, but most people who read it have been unable to accept the debunking in part four--or maybe they're just too freaked to notice it. Follow the link below. What is your reaction?

http://wraxtiorre.blogspot.com/p/against-conspirac...

Is the fishmeat too flaky? Does it fall aprt?

"Oboy! is it time for my famous Desk Test?" The Cartoon Dog pulled at the desk by the wall, dragging it out to the center of the room.

"Nope, they're not going to fall for that anymore." The Stoic Cat, standing square-shouldered, held his paw out against the desk, blocking its continued movement across the floor. "Not since we've proven that the desk itself is a figment of your imagination, and the pain in your hand is merely an extension of that imaginary context."

The Cartoon Dog dropped its paws and stared stupidly into space. "Aw, gee. That kinda takes the fun outta life." He stumbled towards the door. "Wait, I have an idea!" The Cartoon Dog raced over to the Stoic Cat, grabbing its arm.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

The Cartoon Dog hesitated for a moment, and then answered. "Look, if I smack my hand on the desk, then you would say that the desk is a figment of my imagination and not yours, and that the pain in my hand is real only to me because the desk is only real to me, and my interaction with this desk is only real to me, which is why only I feel the pain of having smacked the desk with my hand."

The Stoic Cat shrugged, "Yes, so?"

The Cartoon Dog grinned, "Well, if I smack your hand on the desk, and if you feel the pain in your hand, then it will prove that this desk is not a figment of my imagination, since your interaction with this desk results in you having the pain. I cannot imagine you having any pain."

The Stoic Cat exhaled dismissively and stared upward in exasperation. "You have a dizzying intellect. Go ahead," he continued. "Dazzle me with your brilliance! Baffle me with your--your--oh, whatever you call that stuff in your skull!"

The Cartoon Dog held the Stoic Cat's paw high over its head and began to explain. "Now, if my smacking your hand on this desk causes you intense pain, please let me know immediately." He hoisted the Cat's paw up a little, preparing to bring it downward rapidly.

The Stoic Cat suddenly looked downward. "Hey, wait. This would still prove nothing, wouldn't it?"

The Cartoon Dog paused. "What? Whaddaya mean, prove nothing?"

"Well," The Stoic Cat explained, "If this desk were a figment of my imagination and not of your imagination, then it is quite likely that you are a figment of my imagination as well, and therefore, your claim of having experienced pain was only my imagination pretending to portray realism."

The Cartoon Dog scratched its chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, I never thought of that." He glanced around nervously, pondering the conundrum that had just transfixed his mind.

The Stoic Cat concluded, "And you are a Cartoon anyway."

The Cartoon Dog grimaced and snarled quietly, "You keep saying that like it should offend me. I know how to answer this! He grabbed the Cat's paw, reached it up high over his head, and shouted, "I'll smack your paw on this desk, and then I'll strike you dead. If the desk is still here, then it cannot be a figment of your imagination."

He brought the Cat's paw down on the desk rapidly.

My wife's computer has caught a Trojan Horse that is actively trying to upload her information. It won't let her launch any .exe files, claiming that they are already infected, and it keeps redirecting her MSIE tabs to Viagra-selling website and pornsites. One hack name that she has seen is "bankerfox.a," but none of her virus programs are seeing it. She has AVG 8.45 installed, and is also using SpyBot, Adware, SpyBlaster, and MalWare. But this trial version of "Antivir Solutions Pro"--which it keeps insisting that she purchase (naturally)--tried to download itself onto her computer. Has anybody been able to deal with viruses which block all exe files, and if so, how?

The Cartoon Dog stood vacantly in the center of the stage, staring listlessly out into the amphitheatre. "They're not listening to me." He shrugged diffidently and slapped his paws on his haunches.

The Stoic Cat entered from Stage Left, shaking his head dismissively. "Have you tried setting your hair on fire?"

The Cartoon Dog turned around. "They don't pay any attention to me. It's like I'm not even here."

The Stoic Cat folded its arms and looked down sadly. "Take a look around. The theatre is empty. Aside from the fact that you are a non-existent cartoon character, the 'they' are the ones not here."

The Cartoon Dog wiped tears from its eyes and searched the rafters for a moment. "What do you do, to get their attention?"

The Stoic Cat walked across the stage, behind the curtains at Stage Right. "Come on back to the Philosophy Department with me. Let's smack your head on a desk to prove that the desk exists. The headache might help you feel better."

Morpheus internal, it's all okay to be,

Without doing, just vague ambiguous BEING!

This cloudless head, hazy non-sunrise, just looking

At the gray sky. Trepidation footsteps wander

To and fro, unsought seeking unlikely journeys.

When drove my Morpheus away, I asked aloud,

"Why waited I? What fear? Why still here?" Unanswered.

Situation unspecific, but that's okay.

Distrustful, ill-earned mulct! What price for clarity?

Pressed wrong buttons? All undone cannot be forgiven.

Insecure I spoke, but did insincere I feel?

Cattle-approached gates found to be locked up and wait.

Well-deserved fate uncursed, acceptable now.

And in respect I sit, respectful distance sit.

Grateful of friendship I cannot afford to lose.

Once-defying sheep that deemed the winning streak break,

I follow wild caprice and contradictory,

Doom not destroy unprovokable without love;

Silvery lakes of camaraderie rest me.

Repentance for Morpheus ignored. Ah, my friend!

Moses' disapproval and Kon'ca's morphine eyes

Cannot see balance though my lunatic mishap,

Nor can I. It seems inappropriate to be--

Without knowing--just BEING! Finally I know:

Unbefriended lost! And now, Away I must go.

This poem has been published in my anthology, Mangled Doves.

http://www.amazon.com/Mangled-Doves-Todd-Mikosh/dp...

She told me tales, allegoric of this truth disclosed:

A year ago, a years-on friend who suddenly proposed!

A fear to know, she laughed at pining love left unopposed.

Too near to go, the spurning act built fences all enclosed.

A warning then, that I should not let my love be exposed.

I have a need -- "Will you marry me?"

Of tales I know distrust.

Love is free --

But strings and chains we bust.

I need to ask -- "Will words speak for me?"

I spoke the twain, made mocking promises to wear the yoke;

and now for her, the sacred vow has turned to silly joke.

She spoke the twain, unlaughing as she spurned me with a poke;

And now for me, the sacred cow has burned to wily smoke.

The walls of ice, the bleach-white cinder blocks are all now broke!

I have a need -- "Will you marry me?"

My words have gone to dust.

Words are free --

I write because I must.

I need to ask -- "Can words speak for me?"

This poem is published twice--once by the National Library of Poetry, and again in my anthology, Mangled Doves.

http://www.amazon.com/Mangled-Doves-Todd-Mikosh/dp...

Interpolate anything you like into the missing portions of this question, but just ask yourself: Is it possible?

Could I really be this much of a moron?

. . . Historian? Or is he more easily forgotten as a Poet?

Em pleh! Em pleh! Edutitpeni fo loopssec citohcysp a emoceb sah boj ym dna snoitcuder ecrofkrow fo massacre siht ni tliug s'rovivrus evah I

Em pleh! Em pleh!

While discussing the possibility of teaching Virtue, Socrates declares that it is impossible to act akratically. Yet, he cannot accept his own argument in the face of a populace who acts against their own best interest with alarming comfort. Did he refuse to think that sometimes we act without intent, whether virtuous or not? I guess what I am getting at is this: When defining akrasia as weakness of the will, is a presumed premise that strength of will inherently acting towards the "common" good, or the consensus of virtue?

Rousseau said that "Man is Free everywhere, but is Everywhere in chains."

Are we still the pawns of our administration, here in our Democracy? Are we the unwitting nails in the construction of the capitalist elitism that so plagues our existence despite our cheering it on? Are smokers nothing more than the bullets that the anti-smoking campaigns fire at the Smoking industry? Are we the puppets for the marionette masters of our fates?

Weren't we destined for better than this?

<Y!A wanted to put this question in "Theater and Acting">

Em Pleh! Em Pleh!

I feel like a Duck outta water, or a Fish onna pier, or a paddle in motorblades!

sedalbrotom ni elddap a ro, reip anno hsif a ro, retaw attuo kcud a ekil leef I

Pleh! Em Pleh!

But what wars did it help to win?

It's only a set of instructions about how to protect your town in war-torn medieval Italy. I mean, such things were necessary in that day and age!

Plato taught us the Theory of Forms in the Divided Line and the Myth of the Cave. He was well known for his ability to think abstractly and use literary devices. But what was Aristotle's Theory about the Nature of Reality? I have always called Aristotle the great categorizer, and I know that his philosophy was much more concrete than Plato's, but did he disagree with Plato on the Nature of Reality?

The Stoic Cat says, "Quick, muzzle that Cartoon Dog and put him on a leash! This is NO time for his Famous Desk Test!"