While following a meandering path through Twitter, I was perusing the profile page of author and M.D.F.R. (Master of Distraction From Reality) Terry Pratchett where I came across a teeny bit of self-promotion from one Ray Friesen.
I enjoy checking out the work of artists who have skills that outskill mine and in the process of cypersnooping, I discovered that Mr Friesen is another demented writer of children’s books (albeit “weirdo children”).
I considered pledging some cash, but then I remembered I don’t have any. Hopefully Mr Friesen’s dream will come true in spite of me.
In my most noted tweet thus far, I recently posted an image designed to compliment Emo Philips’ wonderful joke about wanting a bicycle. The majority of people who gave it a “favorite” nod or blessed it with a retweet, obviously understood the absurdist heart of the joke, which is a clever commentary on the wishful thinking of the wish-granting powers of prayer and the relative truism, “It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.”
However, there were two who weren’t satisfied with choosing the favorite or retweet button — they actually commented. Two men whose hair was ruffled by the punchline as it flew over their heads, unable to grasp the nuance of a straightforward God-bashing joke.
I had no idea that PTSD could be induced by the mere mention of bicycle theft, but for these two bike-loss victims, it seems to have triggered troubling memories. To these poor souls, the joke is somehow making light of or justifying stealing. Rather than working hard to earn the money for ones own bike, one simply does not go and steal someone else’s. It’s bad form. God might forgive you, but the bike’s owner surely will not.
It’s a little irritating and I only mention it because they drizzled on my Emo parade.
I understand the concept of a Things To Do Before I Die list, but why call it a Bucket List? Do people think of a wish, write it on a scrap of paper and then drop it in a bucket for safe keeping? Buckets are for water and for cleaning and for slop, not for storing one’s keenest hopes and dreams.
So why not refer to it as one’s Life List or Dream Dossier?
Oh. I get it. It’s the list of things one would like to do before one “kicks the bucket”… Which makes me wonder: Was it so common for people to die while milking cows, therefore kicking over the bucket, that it became an idiom?
We live in a strange and inexplicable world.