Impalpable-bly impalpable by Old/New Ambiguous or Obvious? Standards…..

”You can’t touch this”.

A worldwide legend of rap, and MC Hammer wrapped it.

Out loud.

With a jig and a dance and a romp and a stomp.

Rapped🙂.

Wrapped.☺️

That’s a wrap.😃.

Catchy tune.

Awesome steps

Catchy phrase.

Timeless. Make a point. Make a sale. Make a point.

A lot of them.

Points. Sales.

Make a sale. Make a point…Hammer did make one …or two gagillion.

When it “came out”.

The people loved it. A lot.

Words. The words spread like wildfire.

Royalties are prob’ still flowing in.

Had folks dancing in the streets.

And wishing and hoping……

”I toured around the world

From London to the Bay

It’s Hammer! Go, Hammer! MC Hammer! Yo, Hammer!

And the rest can go and play

”U Can’t Touch This”” (lyrics)

Let’s break it down.

Shall we?

What if you have an itch you cannot scratch?

Cannot reach?

Don’t know how to reach?

Don’t know how to articulate what you need, what you want.

Break it down?

Rather than enveloping it….

Sometimes it is darn hard to say the quiet part out loud.

Difficult to “put your finger” on…..

All talk and no action?

Causing confusion, of intentions, motivations, circumstances and maneuvering of outcomes in the hopes of favor of one over another. Me over You. You over Me. Him, He, Her, She..

Overlapping even.

Gulp.

Deaf?

Huh?

Turn up the volume!

Turn up the speaker!

Turn up the speakers!

Not necessarily.

Raising one’s voice means: I am not heard, being heard. At the same time, raising awareness can be a double edged sword of

Huh?

Say what?

It is hard to discover the exact reason why a situation is the way it is, especially when something is wrong. What to do. What to do.

Simply cannot “put one’s finger” on it. (Not counting the gagillion s of times we “touch” our keypads in the hope of connectivity.

We are experiencing an armageddon of a fall out so great—of so many circumstances, it is hard to pin it down. The reasons of discontent, disillusion, dis service. Advantage seekers lurk ‘round every corner.

U Can’t Touch This.

Caught red-handed.

Red handed.

Scot-free

Chucking

Upchucking.

Pass the Buck.

Accomplice-ing.

Caught in the act.

Hand in the cookie jar.

Fly tipper.

Big tipper.

In the red-light district?

Borough.

Down the dark alley.

Adverse.

Inverse.

Reverse.

Reverse Discrimination.

Old Discrimination.

New Discrimination.

Talk Discrimination.

Speech discrimination.

Compelling to. To force a person or animal to leave a place where they are living. May be even hiding. Boot, bump, chuck. Out.

U Can’t Touch This.

AHA.

A moment. A moment in time. Are you with them or are you with us? Convicted Conviction or keeping at arm’s length for the ambiguous ambiguity of shrewdness, scaremongering or scapegoating. The here and the there of the why and the where.

Keeping at arm’s length, a non-verbal communication tool in the tool box used to boast:

U Can’t Touch This.

You are lower.

And. I am higher.

Than you.

Now and always.

On the pole.

Totem or other.

The other pole.

Take a poll.

The pole position.

Not fair.

Not good.

At least MC.

Hammer shouted.

And put the stake in and

Pounded it down.

Pounded out the point.

Loud and clear.

We could be friends.

If we got to a point, where we did not think or feel we were required to drive our point,

Home.

The shortest distance between two points, is a straight line.

Correct? Mathematically, logically speaking. Of course.

Let’s break it down.

(Real estate agents take note:)

The House by the Side of the Road

Sam Walter Foss

There are hermit souls that live withdrawn

In the peace of their self-content;

There are souls,, like stars, that swell apart,

In a fellow less firmament;

There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths

Where highways never ran;

But let me live by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road,

Where the race of men go by—

The men who are good and the men who are bad,

As good and as bad as I.

I would not sit in the scorner’s seat,

Or hurl the cynic’s ban;

Let me live in a house on the side of the roaf

And be a friend to man.

I see from my house by the side of the road,

By the side of the highway of life,

The men who press with the ardor of hope,

The men who are faint with the strife.

But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears—

Both parts of an infinite plan;

Let me live in my house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

Let me live in my house by the side of the road

Where the race of men go by—

They are good, they are bad, they are weak,

they are strong.

Wise, foolish—so am I.

Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat

Or hurl the cynic’s ban?—

Let me live in my house by the side of the road

And be a friend to man.

You CAN touch this.

But we have to know how.

Blasting off information is just that.

Blasting off information.

The receiver has to either take it and run with it, drop the ball, or not play at all.

For some it IS a choice. Talent is as talent does. Would you know it if you saw it? Or is it just an old and tired game of cat and mouse, mouse and cat. Who chases who. Who outruns who. Who “wins”.

They call it track, tracking for a reason. A supposed advantage of being “in the know”. Running around is circles is not exactly a straight line between two points.

Make a sale.

Make a point.

”Who’s the “new” neighbor moving in to inhabit the dwelling across the street, or next door. Cup of sugar at the ready? To share a tit for tat, a story or two. What lies down in the crawl space of the new neighbor’s dwelling….😳

Isolation. Man cave. She shed. Sanity, reason and sense being driven out of the sane psyches and into the chaos of public opinion clouding the streets, highways and by ways and forcing a hunkering down, a shelter in place because fear drives the point again and again, over and over.

Fear is not a new concept. It is ages old. Our fallen conditions cause us to sometimes fear more circumstances than others and then we are left holding the new bag or the old bag😳.

Huh?