Ooh.... Ahh....

Tut-tut, don't go anywhere, gang, I'm just practicing yoga, Hatha Yoga, if you please, made famous by the great Jed Hathaway of "Beverly Hillbillies" fame. (Sorry about the pun, Diary, but even Shakespeare had a penchant for such turns of phrase. Let's not forget his sonnet to Anne Hathaway, in which the poetic yuckster declares that his lovely Anne "hath a way" to please him -- and we're all like: "'Hath a way,' Shakespeare? Oh, please!")

Ooh.... Ahh....

But seriously, I recommend this stuff (yoga, I mean), and I'm not even crossing my fingers behind my back as I say so. It's really incredibly simple -- so don't be fooled by the gazillion-and-one unnecessarily expensive books, videos, and lectures you can pay for on the subject. All's youse got to do is breathe in and out, in a kind of respiratory loop, not stopping yet not forcing breath. The way I figure it, it could take you 10 minutes to get in the respiratory groove and then about an hour to attain some relatively ideal state-o'-consciousness. Dig?

Ooh.... Ahh....

You think I'm joking, don't you? (Barbara Billingsley said it best in the movie "Airplane!": "Chump don't want the help, chump don't get the help. Jive turkeys ain't got no sense nohow." Of course, I'm not saying that you are a jive turkey if you don't try hatha yoga, but to paraphrase Josef K. in Kafka's Trial: "I offer that description for your consideration.")

Ooh.... Ahh....

My life upon it, this really works!

Ooh.... Ahh....





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There was an old Yogi from Nome
Who never said nothing but "Om!"
When his friends asked him why,
He pointed to a nearby text on mind-body dualism
and scribbled a note reading, "See page 87, the second paragraph."
That pedantic old Yogi from Nome