Bugblaster has tagged me, in a rather cryptic way, and for motives unknown. I will take it that he is assisting me to achieve the coveted goal of winning virtual popularity. Of course, since he tagged me in the time of my least access to the Internet, I just found out about it yesterday, and am woefully late in responding.
Furthermore, as I have collected what I am supposed to do rather by induction than by explanation, and as we all know that induction is necessarily fallacious, the end results may diverge rather wildly from what Bugblaster intended.
From his title I gather that one is supposed to state 100 random things. Now apart from objecting to this on theological grounds, that everything should be done decently and in order, I object to this also on literary grounds. So there is one thing.
I am glad to notice that Bugblaster has limited this number to seven, and has also followed a pre-established pattern. Clearly, he shares my objections. However, I will not slavishly follow him: variations within a pattern produce the rhythm of the years. So that is a second thing.
I had liefer talk about my nieces than my siblings. That is a third thing.
I have hung by my fingertips from the parapet on both sides of the top of our three story house (at separate times, naturally), with air under my feet all the way to the ground. This establishes my athletic credentials, and is a fourth thing.
When it comes to farming my experience is not extensive. I once was entrusted with turning over a plot of ground in order for the laying of some grass. Being disinclined to this endeavour, I decided it would be easier if the ground were wet. But as so often happens, a tragic miscalculation prevented the completion of the project. I got the ground so wet that it was two days before anything could be done with it, and by that time my gardening privileges had been revoked. That is a fifth thing.
Numbers: they go on in infinite sequence, and have odd harmonies among themselves. Hugh Martin was quite a mathematician, in addition to being quite a good theologian. That is a sixth thing.
Two mormons who came to my door left clutching some CDs of Ian Paisley preaching. They never came back. I anticipate making an acerbic statement about mormons pretty soon on my blog. That is a seventh thing.
With regard to desks, it is one of my ambitions to get a desk where I can wheel my beautifully comfortable chair up with the arms under the desk, without compromising on the ideal elevation of my chair: so far, this has never happened. That is an eighth thing, and having exceeded Bugblaster in quantity of things, should balance out the fact that I am not going to tag anyone. The buck stops here, as my dad was fond of quoting Harry Truman saying (which constitutes a ninth thing).
Educationally my greatest achievement has been discovering that the homeschool program I was using would have me finishing 12th grade with far more than the required amount of credits to take an ACT: therefore I only acquired the necessary number of credits (which meant skipping most of 12th grade), and dropped the whole farce. Of course, it was actually my mother who discovered this, so it is misleading to list this among my achievements. This is a tenth thing.
4 replies on “You’re It”
You clearly need a chair with adjustable height armrests. I have one at work, and it’s very nice.
Oh, but that would lower it out of my ideal range. I clearly need a taller desk.
And you drove me to my 1928 Webster’s to look up “liefer”, which ought to count for at least half a thing more.
Vic, that counts for one-and-a-half because you gave a precise date.