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I, Mayor-by-Birthright-for-Life, Alexandra Jones, claim Kepler 62-e for Goof City. CALLED IT! It has a special atmosphere in which people who are taking themselves too seriously automatically evaporate, to return when they can again laugh at themselves and the world and admit there is nothing more important than peace and harmony among the citizens of our planet.

62-e will be Keplerious and Keplerlicious! It is a land of happy children: Michael and Ricardo, Eduardo, Johnkin, Dexter and Axel and the whole goofy Kepler gang.

Source: MrRbyj and the gang

We’re going to get this one right, people. We won’t take anything for granted. Our No. 1 priority will be to honor and sustain the earth’s live-giving resources, not exploit and destroy them. There will be no highways, overpasses, garages, parking lots, oil wars, cloverleafs, gas stations, because there will be no cars. We will share space with all inhabitants, Keplerian, human and animal, and not trespass upon them or usurp their innate right to live as free women, men, and animals. Respect and gratitude will be the order of the day. There will be no war, and no word for war, because as soon as that shit starts, you evaporate! It’s impossible for conflict to manifest. I can’t really say where you go when you cease to be goofy–you might call it Worryland, the Anxiety Annex, hell, the “real world,” or the Other Side.

By the way, why did the chicken kill itself?
To get to the other side.

But we goofs know that Goof City is the real real world. The rest is a bunch of posturing bullshit, red tape, power plays, smog checks, factory explosions, shootings and bombings. People on this planet we call Earth, for the most part, do not know how to cohabit productively for the advancement of humankind. The so-called leaders lead you down the garden path, and it is not the Garden of Eden. It is the intersection of what’s in it for me and screw you.

But Kepler 62-e will be overrun by sustainable gardens with lush and abundant offerings for all who pass–peaches the size of melons, cucumbers like baguettes, waterfalls of honey. The economy will be based on happiness and good will–the desire of all to provide for all. People will follow their natural bent as to how to best contribute to the Keplerian community. Bakers, gardeners, seamstresses, artists will awaken to a day of pursuing their bliss. Essential services will be provided by those whose joy resides in the smooth operation of systems–engineers and clean freaks and jacks-of-all-trades.

Utopia? Rather, just enough goofiness to hold things together. And people are going to want to stay goofy, because it’s a long trip back to Earth–a light year is nearly 6 trillion miles, and 62-e is 1,200 light years away. That’s 7.2e15 miles–a number so big I don’t even know if it’s a number.

Would it get boring? Doesn’t one eventually get tired of just goofing around? Easy peasy. Evaporate! Or stay behind, your choice. Today is 4/20, and earthlings are gathering at Hippie Hill in a cloud of mellow camaraderie. If I could address them all, I would cede the floor to Michael Rennie.

Source: Parsec777

But he’s not here so I clear my throat and ask the crowd:

People of Earth…where are my reading glasses?

What are we doing here? Everyone asks that some point. Not just here, the entire extant human race somehow shoehorned into Golden Gate Park . But on this planet, and in this universe. And who am I? Well, I’m nobody. And anybody. And everybody. I am you and you are I. I am a citizen of the planet earth. We all have that in common, whatever race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, provenance, heritage. That is undeniable. At the root of our existence, we are born equal, as human beings.

As we grow, we and those around us differentiate ourselves from others. That’s when the trouble starts. When we start messing with each other because of all the other things we are. When people stop talking and seeing each other as human beings but as representatives of some group we’ve been taught to hate, or been segregated from. People instinctively gather together–for companionship, to make work easier, to combine resources, to be with others of their kind. Uh, can you pass that pipe up here?

People usually do gather in groups of their own kind, often just because they’re nearby. People who are born in one region of the world with its own climate, topography and resources find each other, develop languages, customs and belief systems. When we encounter differences, within our group or in others, we may experience fear and over-react in how we regard or treat those we don’t understand. And this is all happening on one rotating, orbiting chunk of rock we all share. The more of us there are, the less there is to go around. Remember, your garbage disposal eats better than 2/3rds of your fellow earthlings. Challenging, to say the least. And we are on the verge…yes, we are, of losing it all. To greed. But it’s not too late, I say it’s not too late…for you and me and Michael and Ricardo and Eduardo and Johnkin and Dexter and Axel to join hands and build a new world of cooperation and well-being.

So, come on, people, now, smile on each other, everybody get together, try to love one another right now. Right now! Right now! And don’t forget to recycle.

See you in 7.2e15 miles!

KEPLER IS SO GOOD! Keplerlicious!

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This Day in Goofery

December 8
1894: Birth of James Thurber

“It is better to have loafed and lost, than never to have loafed at all.”

Perhaps the first time I stopped to reflect upon myself, or question myself, was in grade school, when I saw James Thurber’s cartoon of a woman with severe black accents all around her house, and a man asking her: “What do you want to be inscrutable for, Marcia?” It occurred to me that presenting an inscrutable facade to the world was not the same as being inscrutable–and I wondered if I myself was presenting that inscrutable facade with nothing behind it. And how much more trouble it was to craft an image of yourself than to just be yourself.
Source: with a great head of hair, too

Sure, people are full of secrets and mysteries, but why create a wall of them? That is when I discovered it is far more pleasurable to laugh at oneself than to take oneself too seriously. And that, citizens, is when I turned to goofery, and I haven’t looked back. In honor of that great American goof, James Thurber, and in this time of cosmic change that is predicted for our planet and ourselves, we salute the last flower…with the wistful hope that it is also the first flower…to put a crack in our walls.

Source: Shadowz480

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This Day in Goofery
December 1

1997: Representatives from more than 150 countries conduct a global warming summit in Kyoto, Japan, and forge an agreement to control the emission of greenhouse gases

Also on this day
1998: Exxon and Mobil agree to merge, forging the world’s largest emitter* of greenhouse gases

*not necessarily borne out by research but excusable as goofing by hyperbole

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Raggedy Heart

June 28, 2012 by

This Day in Goofery

June 28
1917: Birth of the Raggedy Ann doll

Many legends surround the beginnings of Raggedy Ann, but there is one I take to heart. A candy heart. Raggedy Ann of the storybooks was known to possess a candy heart, acting as “the invincible, spiritual source of Raggedy Ann’s sweet outlook and kindly ways.” But legend has it that some of the first dolls produced by their inventor John Gruelle, contained actual candy hearts printed with “I Love You” sewn into their chests. None have been found, but the mythos of the candy heart provides a lovely role model for human interaction. Some have ripped open their doll’s chests looking for a candy heart, but we can’t go around ripping people’s chests open. We just have to believe that everyone we meet is guided by a candy heart reading “I Love You.” There are worse tenets to live by.

Source: Patricia Hall

Source: YumSugar

Candy hearts have been around forever. In 1847, a fellow named Oliver Chase invented a lozenge-cutting machine and later a sugar-pulverizing machine that eventually revolutionized the candy industry. He was one of the founders of NECCO® which in 1866, gave birth to “Sweethearts®” candy hearts, after his brother Daniel fashioned a machine that presses food dye letters into candy. The phrases come and go, some of them being dated, such as “Dig Me” and “You are gay!” NECCO® stands for New England Confectionary Company, and they make up to 100,000 pounds of candy hearts a day, (as they say, “more than enough for everyone in the world to have one.” So there’s no excuse for not having one!

Source: Scary Raggedy

Yes, you can custom-order the hearts–minimum order 1.7 million (a standard production run). You can also order 10 lbs., a mere 4,200 hearts, from Magic Wand Weddings. Except that at the time of this writing, their “machine is down.” No forecast on when it’s back in service. Sorry to disappoint. I had it in mind to order some GOOF CITY hearts to pass out to sorry-looking folks on the street, instead of telling them, “You dropped something! Your smile!” That dream will come true, in the fullness of time. So if they don’t have candy hearts when I meet up with them, they soon will.

Source: lilSugar

Also on June 28
1951: Birth of Val “Cruella” Blake

1951 distinguished itself by hosting the birth of my sister, Val “Cruella” Blake. “Cruella” is of course my goofy nickname for her. She used to say things to me like: “Once upon a time, there was a face at the window.” “Your opinion’s like no opinion to me.” “Get out of my sight,” and “Don’t bother me, runt.” Typical older sister stuff. I would annoy her by borrowing her hair dryer and overheating it, not cleaning the shower drain (on purpose), and by being four years younger than she.

Source: No Coke. Pepsi.

But now that we’re adults, I have only one thing to say about her.

Source: We love you, Raggedy. I love you, Val.

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This Day in Goofery
The Mayor’s been on vacation. Not from goofing, from the Internet. She will catch up with the daily goof just as fast as her lazy ass permits.

May 12
1812: Birth of Edward Lear

A Goof City holiday! Any compendium of goofiness must pay tribute to Sir Edward Lear (he wasn’t a sir in England, but is here in Goof City). Our goofosophy relies on goofery and nonsense to mitigate the mayhem and suffering of life as we know it, which may also be ameliorated by dancing by the light of the moon, the moon…

Source: ozjthomas
Oh lovely pussy, oh pussy my love
what a beautiful pussy you are, you are, you are…
what a beautiful pussy you are

And here is my own homage to Sir Lear.

In the contest between the owl and the cat
As to which of the two is wiser
Well, I can certainly tell you that
If you’re looking for an advisor

There is no contest
It’s a total tie
Their secret is
They live, then they die

'Stop making sense!'
-the man in the big suit

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