Middle Income Richard’s Third Millennium Almanack, No. 9

MIDDLE INCOME RICHARD’S
Third Millennium Almanack
===============================
An e-zine published every now and again
via the Internet, which should, in the coming
thousand years, save a few wads of paper
and spare a whole bunch of trees.
———————————————
Number 9, Superbowl Monday or
Tuesday, 2002, (or close)
In the 2nd year of the 21st century
© 2002 Rich Limacher
———————————————

Okay, so it’s a couple days late. Deal with it.

———————————————

Richard’s Law of Check-Out Lanes,
Convenience Gas Pumps, Drive-Up
Windows, Drive-Thru Tellers, and
Ballpark Parking Lot Exits:

“The other line moves faster.”

———————————————

Editorial material, immaterial, ads, subtracts,
and everything else to:
TheTroubadour@prodigy.net

——————————–
This e-zine is all about:
*our* future.
——————————–

Chair of Contents:

r
e
g
u
l
a
rare-wisdom-and-fluff Happy
f e New
e v e r y t h i n g – e l s e Year!
a d feetures:
t b p on scrolli
u a e n
r c e o
e k k n
p s page numbers are no longer necessary
————————————————————
(because everything is all on one page)
————————————————————

Here’s something else that needs inventing:
A new word in the English Language:

“piplani”

–pih-PLAHN-ee [fr. an infamous modern-day English-speaking
character, rumoured to be real but somehow never seen,
photographed, jailed, tried or convicted], v.t., 1. to
knowingly cheat, defraud, short-serve, circumvent,
bamboozle, serve up baloney to, or con someone, generally in
authority, OUT of something, generally which is legally
or ethically expected of the one perpetrating the fraud. 2.
to derive some sort of self-aggrandizing pleasure from
attempting, and especially from getting away with, such a
con. 3. to perform a cheat in some way upon some thing,
such as taking a short-cut to shorten the course in a racing
competition (e.g., “Rosie Ruiz piplanied the Boston
Marathon.”) Also, “piplanize” (PIH-plahn-ize) and
“piplanizing.” Alternative forms, n, masc.,
“piplanization,” the act of having been piplanized, and
“piplanatory,” the feeble excuses offered to explain such
piplanizing; also, adj., “piplanative,” the pleading-like
activity associated with such piplanatory piplanization,
and, adv., “piplanly” (pih-PLAHN-ly) the mealy-mouth way in
which such piplanatory piplanizations are piplaned.
Colloq., “piplanity” (pih-PLAN-et-tee) n., neut., the type
of language typically invoked by such a con artist that may
or may not take the name of the “floored” in vain.

[Editor’s note for some future edition of the Oxford English
Dictionary: The first use of this now-common word has been
elsewhere backdated to March, 2001. I cannot recall the
sentence, but think it’s kind of sad that none was ever
handed down.]

———————-
Richard’s Stern Warning to anyone receiving anything
containing “P.P.”:
Just wipe, flush, and fuhgeddaboudit.
———————-

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

From The “This Just Investigated” Department:

Yes, what Mid-Inc Dick reported last time is true. There is
at least one farsighted company out there (Millennium Cell
Inc.) which has actually succeeded in getting a car to run
on soap.

Yep! (Not nope!)

Or, close.

ABC News apparently first reported on this “thing” last
year. Well, OK, only a few short weeks ago in December.
They now have this and related stories (about fuel cells and
such) posted on their website. You can see this link below.
But for the moment, here is what their reporter Paul Eng
said about this brand-new technology:

“For years, visionaries have proposed that the world switch
from using hydrocarbons–fossil fuels such as diesel oil,
gasoline and coal–to pure hydrogen. It is the most
abundant element on earth and when ‘burned,’ produces only
non-polluting water and heat.

“Unfortunately, hydrogen can also explode very easily,
making it difficult to use in cars. Storage tanks for
hydrogen-powered cars would have to be sturdy and heavy
enough to prevent Hindenberg-like explosions during
collisions.

“But Millennium Cell Inc., a privately held company in
Eatontown, N.J., has developed a unique solution to mitigate
the dangers of hydrogen fuel.

“The company’s Hydrogen on Demand fuel technology is based
on a compound of sodium borohydride. The chemical–derived
from borax, an ingredient found in most laundry
detergents–is dissolved in water to produce a stable and
non-flammable liquid.

“When the liquid is combined with Millennium Cell’s patented
catalyst, an instant chemical reaction produces liquid borax
and pure hydrogen gas. The hydrogen can then be immediately
burned in an engine or used in a fuel cell which converts
the gas directly into electricity and water.”

Here’s the link:

http://abcnews.go.com/sections/scitech/CuttingEdge/cuttingedge011214.html

The “plus” side seems wonderful: Abundant source of
seemingly endless fuel, and no pollutants as byproducts.

The “minus” side seems to be contained in that magic
“catalyst.” It depends on a real rare earth metal called
“ruthenium.”

“The Story of Ruth,” eh? Seems to Mid-Inc Rich that she set
her old Israelite friends back a few coins, too. But, I’m
inclined to believe, she must have been–like today’s
Ruthenium–worth every penny.

So, bottom line. What does the USA have in abundance which
those OPEC countries do not?

Soap and water.

And we all smell better than they do, too.

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Probably said by our Founding Father sometime after July
4th: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Jefferson, if my declaration has made
you suffer.”

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( Q_Q )

Dizi Wirld

by

C. C. Writers
© 2002

It was a far, far different world from what he’d remembered
when Walt Disney finally woke up.

For one thing, it wasn’t the United States of America any
more. Now it was called “Westirn Empyr.” The lab was
quite a bit different from the one he was frozen in, too,
but even he was pleased to learn that the basic theme of his
theme park remained relatively unchanged. It still took in
money and gave out chills and thrills. In fact, he was
told, its popular new name was “Dizi Wirld.”

The scientists who watched Mr. Disney open his eyes for the
first time in over four hundred years were quite pleased
with themselves for resurrecting the flesh, and Disney
himself thought he might just be in heaven. Or, the other
place. They didn’t speak his language. They were attired
quite differently and, when his self emerged from his
cryogenic tomb, he discovered himself to be naked. No one
even blinked.

Nevertheless there was still a language problem, but the lab
techs were able to communicate through an instant
translating device, activated by the touch of the arm, which
equalized the vowel void as easily for Disney as if he
himself had studied the English of Chaucer all his life,
which of course he hadn’t.

Through such instant translating, the scientists explained
to him that he was not now necessarily “alive.” Rather,
they said, it was as if his perfect clone was protoprojected
like a multidimensional hologram, all of which was
artificially empowered. He himself likened it to being an
old flashlight with a new battery.

“Gud!” a scientist said. “Bit yu ned tu bi rekonektid evri
12 ars.”

If Mr. Disney did not get this recharging, the scientist
continued, he would simply continue to be dead–and, without
his liquid nitrogen, decomposed.

Eventually, Disney mustered the courage to venture outside
the lab and look around the “park” which at one time was
actually his. The entire complex was under what appeared
to be a glass dome. And although he reasoned it was
daylight, Disney looked up but could not see any sky.

Outside the park and beyond the dome, things were worse
than he expected. He didn’t see anything that looked like a
street or a road or a parking lot. The woods were gone.
Mostly he saw only fog, but along with the fog was a
profound stench. If he’d have had a handkerchief, he would
have covered his nose.

Instantly and without warning, another body materialized
beside him. It appeared to be a woman totally wrapped in
tinfoil. She reached out, touched his arm, and was
immediately able to converse. She told him her
identification and offered to take him “on a tor.”

He was horrified by the visions he experienced while on this
ride. It occurred to him that not even the best geniuses
he’d had on his payroll could ever have predicted THIS.

Here he was riding in a vehicle he couldn’t see.
Accompanied by a tincreature he could not stomach. Looking
out at a world that he himself believed could not exist.
His ride was filled, for sure, with chills and thrills.

When it was done–after what seemed like daze–he once
again found himself standing outside the gates, or rather
the main portal to the dome, formerly known as the entrance
to his very own park. He was completely unclothed, which,
except for all the tinfoil he saw, seemed to be perfectly
normal for the stiffling heat of this particular day and
age. He also knew he’d be needing to get back
inside–soon–because he imagined being overdue at the lab
for his recharging.

But of course, when they asked at the gate for his ticket,
he didn’t have one.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

The best part of art is not what it says, but what it
suggests.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Today’s Useful Internet Site:

http://www.damtp.cam.ac.uk/user/hawking60/

Log on and say “happy birthday” to Stephen Hawking!

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Usually, the most significant discoveries about this
material world are made when you’re standing alone and
not attired with any material.

# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #

Today’s Helpful Household Hint from “Uncle Eco”:

It’s time to take down the Christmas decorations.

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)

Yesterday’s Feedback:
——————————–

[start] * * * * * * E-letters to the Editor * * * * * * *

[Editor’s note: Guess what. For the first time since this
“thing” began, there weren’t any. Apparently you all are
happy with this, or bored with it. Or, of course, you’re
not reading it to begin with. Instead, this time, we have a
copy of a letter written by the author of the letter
himself–amazing, no?–and sent to a politician in the State
of Tennessee. It has already been electronically published
all over the known universe. Middle Income Richard’s
intention here is to publish it all over the UNknown
universe. All in the hope, of course, that it does some
good.]

——————————–

[Your own address goes here, if you’d like to print out and
send this yourself. You’re welcome to do this and it would
be appreciated.]

January 21, 2002

The Honorable John Mark Windle
Tennessee House Representative
District 41 – Fentress, Morgan, & Overton Counties
201 War Memorial Building
Nashville, TN 37243-0141

Dear Representative Windle:

It seems so ironic that, on this national holiday
celebration of the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., your
state, the one in which he was murdered, pays him the most
backhanded homage of all.

You have closed the very park that contains the wilderness
that helped you catch his assassin! And now that both men
are dead, I’m going to suggest to you that, in the end, the
despicable Mr. James Earl Ray has finally gotten his
revenge.

Instead of allowing Frozen Head State Natural Area to
continue in its God-ordained condition (not just to catch
murderers but to allow everyone else to be able to recreate
and enjoy themselves there), your state government has
slammed the park’s gate shut and, as rumor has it, is now
looking to sell that acreage to the highest bidder in order
to bail your treasury out of bankruptcy.

Mr. Ray must be laughing in his grave.

But I’ve got to think Dr. King is weeping in his.

You legislators do such a disservice to the ideals of
freedom for which Dr. King fought, that I’m afraid you folks
are going to sell the adjoining state prison, too, perhaps
as a tourist attraction; and then you might as well turn the
forest into a shopping mall and put one or two of its trees
in a museum. How about preserving the spot where Mr. Ray
was captured? Maybe you could sell all those public lands
to the Grand Ole Opry. They might sing and dance on the
spot. Or, maybe they’ll need the property for more parking.

If you get the idea that I am not pleased, you are
absolutely correct. I and many other national and
international athletes are profoundly distressed over these
recent closings of Frozen Head and some 13 or 14 other
Tennessee state parks. According to that park’s own website
http://www.state.tn.us/environment/parks/frzhead/
these closings are going to continue indefinitely.

Frozen Head closed makes no sense whatsoever. This
particular park is world famous. As its website used to
say, this was the site of the undisputed toughest trail
footrace in the entire world. It was called the Barkley
Marathons. In its nearly 20-year history only three runners
had ever made it to the finish line. Does the Tennessee
General Assembly even know this?

If Frozen Head remains closed, it means that athletes from
around the world will have no further reason to visit
Tennessee. And that would be a shame.

As I alluded to before, the wonderful wilderness of this
park lies next to the Brushy Mountain State Correctional
Facility, which was the one-time residence of the infamous
Mr. Ray. You’ll recall he once escaped from that prison but
was later found hopelessly lost and wretched somewhere in
those very woods. I can tell you first hand that the
“jungle” there is so tough to navigate-even for world-class
athletes-that cowardly assassins have absolutely no chance
at all for escape.

If I’m a citizen of your state who votes in your district, I
want Frozen Head to stay just like it is. I don’t want it
replaced by a shopping mall or a parking lot. If your
government has its way and eliminates those woods and sells
that land to the highest bidder, then from now on your
escaped murderers aren’t stopped from finding my house,
breaking into my bedroom, and murdering me.

As I understand from no less a publication than the New York
Times, these parks were all closed because your government
can no longer afford them because you have no state income
tax.

If that’s true, then please: Pass the tax. This is the
21st century.

Citizens of my state have been paying state income taxes-and
keeping all our parks open-since the middle of the last
century.

Please find a way to keep your own parks open. Spring is
coming and there are thousands of us runners, hikers,
backpackers, campers, tourists, and SPENDERS just itching
for another vacation in the “Volunteer” State of Tennessee.

Most sincerely,

Richard J. Limacher
e-mail: TheTroubadour@prodigy.net

——————————–

[Editor’s note: Hon. John Mark Windle is also reachable via
e-mail at:

rep.john.windle@legislature.state.tn.us ]

——————————–

[Editor’s further note: See previous issues of “Middle
Income Richard’s” for the sad predicament of Tennessee’s
budgetary crisis and that government’s lamentable decision
to close some 14 of its state parks–to, we’re told, “save
money.” My only question to you is: What would YOU do if
the parks in YOUR state were suddenly closed?]

( O_O )

——————————–

[Editor’s late-breaking note: Oh, I did receive this just
recently, contributed innocently enough by my North
Carolina colleague Tim Huddleston. “Spam”? Probably. But
it’s pretty good spam nevertheless–something Middle Inc
Rich appreciates and approves of. Also too, something Bro
Tim probably never imagined would fly back in his face.
Hah! Enjoy!]

* * * * *

Mahatma Gandhi walked barefoot most of the time, which
produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also
ate very little, which made him rather frail. And with his
odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made
him…what?
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
(Oh, man, this is so bad, it’s good)
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
V
A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)

[end] * * * * * * E-letters to the Editor * * * * * * *

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

No Longer Wishful Thinking,
Here Are *2* “Middle Income Richard’s”
Actually Paid-For Advertisements:

[start] * * * * * * Paid Advertisements * * * * * * *

*************************************************

* * * * * SILVERTON, COLORADO * * * * *

* * *

“The closest you’ll come to the great Old West
While you’re still wearing our modern dress”

[For those of you who’ve been receiving this e-zine,
you already know that Silverton is home to one of
the most exhilarating annual outdoor athletic events
in the entire world today: The Hardrock 100-Mile
Endurance Run, which has been showcased on
cable television, in Sports Illustrated and Outside
magazines, and even with a video by National
Geographic. (See, for example, pp. 4-5 of its
August 2001 issue for a photo of the terrain this
event traverses.)

For those receiving this e-zine for the first time,
we hope to introduce you to one of the most scenic
and delightful travel destinations you could ever
hope to visit in the United States of America.]

Features in and around this genuine Old West
mountain town, include:

* The world famous “Alpine Loop” covering some
of the San Juan Range of the Rocky Mountains
(which is jeepable, bikeable, and hikeable)

* The remains of countless silver mines (hence
the town’s name) and one working tour of a
real Gold Mine

* One of the few, if any, still operating steam
locomotive railroads on which you can still
book passage through the mountains between
Durango and Silverton

* Marvelous art galleries and gift shops lining,
yes, still unpaved streets, some of which even
have hitching posts and wood plank porches
in front of them

* And last but not least: No McDonald’s!

To discover all the art and news surrounding the
preservation of this uniquely Western town, you
can subscribe either to the printed
*Silverton Mountain Journal*
(for $30 a year)
Or to the on-line
*Journal Xpress e-newswire*
(for $15 a year)
Or BOTH
(for $40 total a year)

Don’t miss out on this rare reportage of
Old West town and mountain country, one
of the truly beautiful and few remaining
unspoiled spots on the Earth.

Call (970) 387-5779 or e-mail
jpt@frontier.net for more info.

Or Write
Silverton Mountain Journal
P.O. Box 116
Silverton, CO 81433
U.S.A.

Jonathan P. Thompson
Proprietor

(Nowadays you’d call me the “Publisher”)

*************************************************

And now for all you racing enthusiasts
[non-motorized, that is, and non-wheeled neither]
here is something completely different
[or, at least not well known in *this* particular
e-publication]. It’s the…

2nd Annual
GREATER TORONTO ULTRA RACE
50 Kilometers and 100 Kilometers
—————————————————-
8:00 a.m., April 20, 2002
A Saturday in sunny and balmy Toronto,
Ontario, Canada, North America,
Western Hemisphere, Earth.
.
This course is very, very fast
[remember: this is a footrace, so speed here is
relative; that is, related to your own feet and how fast
you can move them] and ORA Class C certified.
[Not “certifiable,” just *certified.* OK?]
Cutoff suggested at 14 hours for BOTH races
[no, this doesn’t mean the severing of bodyparts;
it means you gotta be done running before
the clock strikes “14” else you turn into a pumpkin]
…but nobody gets pulled no matter what.
[Not even if the Wicked Witch turns them into taffy.]

The course is 5 kilometers out and then back along
a little-used asphalt bike path following the beautiful
Humber River with 4 small bridge crossings. Repeat
5 or 10 times as required. [No, not crossing the bridge.
Running the 5 kilometers!] Also, there are NO road
crossings.

The Entry Fee is unbelievably cheap for Americans
due to the economic policy of our Canadian
Government [which allows as to how all Americans
enter cheap].

🙂

Oh, this also happens to be the very first
Ontario Ultra Series event of the year.
[The second one hasn’t bothered to advertise in this e-rag.]
[But maybe someday, eh?]

Contact race director John A. Remington
for any information that hasn’t already been made
crystal clear herewith. Send John an e-mail at
johnremington@hotmail.com. You can also
log onto http://ous.kw.net for more race and Ontario Ultra
Series info. [Mention where you saw this ad and receive…
well, maybe just the sweet satisfaction that naturally
fulfills following the hacking out of e-mail
without too many mistakes.]

[end] * * * * * * Paid Advertisements * * * * * * *

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

( Q_Q )

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Help Wanted: Desperately seeking someone, anyone, who
speaks Arabic and/or Farsi or Dari. No Aston Martin
w/ejection seat required or necessary. Will train.
Turbans, deep cover, Palm Pilots with language dictionary
software provided. Apply in person. Do NOT mail anything.
Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters, Langley, Virginia.

[This non-paid advertisement provided as an intelligence
community service. Middle Income Richard intends to
continue providing this service from now on, or until
intelligence is detected in the community.]

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Today’s Comment on Good Ecology:

How to get rid of your hazardous waste: Put your garbage in
a suitcase, write your neighbor’s name on the luggage tag,
and take it to the airport.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Before there were hurricanes,
nature was forced to rely on politicians.

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)

Vertical Cartoon:

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|________| __|_| |_|__
===========================

“Now, for my next act, I turn him into a daisy.”

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)

So, okay. By show of hands, WHO understood ANY of those TV
commercials during Sunday’s Super Bowl game?

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Everyday’s Repetitious Media Message:

* * * * *

[By the way, I would truly and sincerely like to thank all
those who actually have snail-mailed a buck or two in care
of my P.O. Box. You know who you are, and I thank you with
all my heart. I appreciate your encouragement to keep this
thing going.]

* * * * *

It’s no secret that one of our most memorable ancestors, Ben
Franklin, got his first real “break” in the media by giving
up trying to pander to the tastes of the more traditional
publishers of his time–and just inventing that “break” on
his own. He published a simple one-page periodical called
“Poor Richard’s Almanack” and sold it along the streets and
rivers of the colonies for a penny apiece. And it thrived
as a business for the next twenty-five years. So now, some
two-hundred and sixty-nine years later, you get “Middle
Income Richard’s 3rd Millennium Almanack” selling along the
buy-ways and Java-streams of the Internet for a buck a copy.

At least, that’s the plan.

For the moment, of course, this is free. That is, unless
you suddenly develop pangs of conscience, and for that you
might find immediate relief by snail-mailing a Yankee
greenback to Ben’s most dubious distant cousin: C. C.
Writers at P.O. Box 963, Matteson, Illinois 60443 USA.
Thanks. And keep thinking “green” (i.e., saving the
environment by promoting paperless publishing)!!!

gggggggggggggggggreengggggggggggggggggggg

[start] * * * * * * Free Promos * * * * * * *

Be sure to check out Running Delights at

http://www.ontherun.com/rundlts.htm

…for all (or most) of your running/walking/sporting
personal and/or gift-giving needs. They’re great folks to
do business with.

Here’s one more friendly professional promotion:

If it’s custom furniture you’d like in your home or
workplace, you couldn’t do better than asking ERDMAN
WOODWORKING of Silverton, Colorado, to build it exactly to
your specifications. Write to Eric at

cerdman@frontier.net

And tell him “The Troubadour” sent you.
(Besides, I owe him a favor.)
.

[end] * * * * * * Free Promos * * * * * * *

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Early to arise and early to demise makes a man history
sooner.

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Tomorrow’s Little Stock Tip:

Buy Borax.

ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

[“Middle Income Richard’s” will return
at some as yet unimaginable
future unspecified time]