Greetings! Welcome to The Compleat Nutter. What? Dude, you spelled complete wrong. No! Say I. Compleat is an archaic spelling of, well complete, I guess, meaning, here goes: compleat adj.
1. Of or characterized by a highly developed or wide-ranging skill or proficiency:
2. Being an outstanding example of a kind; quintessential: [Variant of complete]

(Quoted from the Ask.com dictionary. Here’s what they say about complete:
1. Having all necessary or normal parts, components, or steps; entire: a complete meal.
2. Botany. Having all principal parts, namely, the sepals, petals, stamens, and pistil or pistils. Used of a flower.
3. Having come to an end; concluded.
4. Absolute; total.
5. a. Skilled; accomplished: a complete musician.
b. Thorough; consummate: a complete coward.)

So, thank you Ask.com. Here I enter the blogoshpere so that I can post my own musings, opinions, harangues, and rants out there for the world not to read, and the first thing I go and put up is someone else’s work. Just like me, at least I gave the citation.

Where was I? Oh, yeah, compleat- those who know me are aware of an intrinsic fascination I have with archaic (and arcane) processes, and having read, basically, instruction manuals, from the Middle Ages and renaissance which begin The Compleat… (Whatevyr) meaning the author is stating that he has just covered everything there is to know on that particular subject here and now. (I particularly like the ones on making wine and beer.) So that’s me. I got it right here, right now in nattering nabob rant form, neatly compacted in less than a 42 volume set, expressly for the Twitter generation.

Nutter. If you are any kind of Anglo-phile, be it for their rock music, Sci-fi telly, Harry Potter, or Brit Coms, you are probably familiar with the usage of “nutter.” Oh, heck, let’s go back to Ask.com. Today is the first time I’ve ever used the site, and now it’s my authority.

Nutter: The word 'nutter' is an informal word to describe a nut and is primarily used in Britain. The word 'nut' is not describing here (a nut) that you eat but it is being used as a derogatory term which describes a person who is strange and crazy. It is slightly offensive to call someone a nutter.

Ok, that’s me for sure. My eccentricities know know bounds. So boundless knowledge… ack, that’s getting into weirdly wordy wackadooness.

So alright, I am the Compleat Nutter, and this is my blog. You probably aren’t going to read it, but that’s ok. I have decided, like Stephen King, that if I don’t get the ranting and raving out (it’s stories for him) that my head will explode like a penguin on the telly. Frankly, that’s a mess I don’t think my wife wants to clean up after, so I will natter away, ghost of Mr. Safire.

I will also take time in this introductory rant to explain that since I have joined the Facebook masses, I have discovered that I really like it. The little status update feature is really cool. I avoided FB for months, and then when I finally caved, I was like, “Wow, why didn’t I sign up for this months ago?” Unfortunately for me, we are only given 420 characters per update, and sometimes (often) I need more space to “get it worked through my system.” So, I am moving my longer winded harangues to the blog, and if anyone wants to come and read them so they can say “yup, he’s nuts alright…” they can. If you don’t, bleahk on you. This is important stuff, after all. (Insert stupid winking smiley face with tongue sticking out emoticon here. Or not.)

“What will The Compleat Nutter be about?” you ask, bristling with unconcealable anticipation. Well, if you haven’t already figured it out, you’re kind of daft. What you will often find here, in addition to my rantings about everything from politics, religion, corporate malfeasance, and loonies in general, are reviews. I have taken a very high opinion of my opinion of things lately, and think they are better and more sophisticated than everyone else’s. So now when I discover (six months after you already knew about it, I’m certain, since I am kind of slow on the uptake) something really cool, like a wine, restaurant, movie, book, album or whatevyr, I will post it up here, because I like to share.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly bring you (drum roll) the first strange and weirdly fascinating insight into the mind of… THE COMPLEAT NUTTER.

Today I want to talk about the cuteness of small animals. We have two cats as pets and they are just totally adorable sometimes. Sometimes you just need to scoop them up and squish them and squish them and give them noogies until they are purring loud right in your ear. I saw a black lab puppy that was starting his training as a seeing eye dog yesterday. I thought, “Wow, that’s pretty cool, I have a great deal of respect for people that are willing to train service animals, but that puppy is SOOOO cute!” I just wanted to get out of the truck and meet him and let him give me puppy kisses (even though he was probably just licking his own butt) and throw sticks for him to chase and all that. I know you can’t do that sort of stuff with service animals, they need to maintain a stricter discipline, which I totally don’t have. But, he was sooo cute!

I am often bewildered at how our society has taken to their pets. Yes, people kept animals as pets before the Baby Boomer generation, but it is only since then that we have made them members of our family. I understand that this has been said before, by both animal and human psychologists, but I think it may have something to do with our alienation from the greater humanity out in the world, and that these small animals represent a life that we can’t understand, but really wish we could. But even in the mystery of their small lives, all their base simplicities and complex processes, we have a fascination, find a kindred spirit, with them. I often find myself envying them for the smallness of their world, and I am grateful to them when they give me the time of day. I anthropomorphize my pets as much or more than anyone does, projecting thoughts and even sentences onto them. I find myself in disagreement with the school of animal psychology that says animals don’t have actual personalities and emotions. Careful observation of their behavior makes me believe otherwise. They like me. They Love me, even. What kind of heartless bastard would I be if I didn’t offer it back? I don’t want to be that kind of heartless bastard, and I distrust those who are. Don’t be a heartless bastard. Give your dog a hug and some good belly rubbing. Squishy up your cat and give him some scritching under the chin. They’ll love you up for it, and who doesn’t need a little more of that.