There was a time when ChristmasWas
A psyche-bending crush
Of disappointment memories and tears.
But recent times (I'm sober now!)
Are full of giggling joy
And gleeful resurrection of the years.
Somewhere along the struggling way
I've found a path that lifts
The eyes and heart
To knowledge of a Choice.
We all can choose to wither here--
To Cringe and close our eyes.
But memories CAN move us to rejoice.
Those older other days were sad
And losses strew the way ago.
But every tear and every loss has earned
This day, this promised day.
So, look around to measure things.
What would you take in trade for what you've learned?
It all was all that one could do,
If breed and tempting greed are set.
The Life of all of us is gone astray.
But we are here and here is Now
And Happiness, for which some sweat,
Is ours---free joy too--–if we Seize This Day.
By Bill Allen at "nearly age 80" Dec. 17, 2004
Friday, December 17, 2004
Friday, November 19, 2004
Mosque: Pray? Read? Or Plot and Rat-a-Tat-Tat???
The government school education being what it is—blind and dedicated to mediocrity–most Americans who really believe they understand the situation regarding extremist terrorism believe that "Mosques" are moral equivalent to "Churches" or "Cathedrals" or "Chapels" or "Synagogues" or "Temples".
Well, they are not!
This subject came to mind when the ignorant "journalists", who have probably never seen the inside of ANY kind of House of Worship got all excited and critical about the Coalition forces (including Iraqi troops), "storming" a Sunni Islamic mosque in Baghdad.
Well, they DID storm the mosque, after the pro-forma obligatory prayers on Friday.
They did so after being asked by the Iraqi Government to do so.
They found enough armament and ammunition to overthrow Castro. They had to actually KILL some people using the armament against them.
I have been in several mosques, on travels and even in Texas and Florida. They do some praying there, but that is not the sole raison d'etre of the mosque.
Let me quote from the Encarta encyclopedia:
In religion-dominated Islamic societies, mosques serve social and political needs as well as religious ones. The mosque became a forum for many public functions, serving as a law court, school, assembly hall, and even as a parade ground. Adjoining chambers often house libraries, hospitals, or treasuries.
As Islam spread outside Arabia, mosque design gradually incorporated elements adapted from the architecture of conquered territories. Basilica-type mosques, such as the Great Mosque in Damascus (8th century), were based on Early Christian church design, which in turn was derived from pagan basilicas
You are welcome —as Ring Lardner used to quote Alibi Ike: "You could look it up!!!"
The Britannica goes into even more detail:
Beginning with Muhammad's own house, mosques came to be used for many public functions--military, political, social, and educational. Schools and libraries were often attached to medieval mosques (e.g., al-Azhar mosque in Cairo). The mosque also functioned as a court of justice until the introduction of secular law into many Islamic countries in modern times.
So, when the girliemen in the media wail about the nasty old Marines invading the "sanctified solitude" of a mosque be aware that they’re not like John and Charley Wesley’s Methodist Churches, nor are they akin to Maimonides’ Temple Synagogue, not even remotely in the mould of Saint Peter’s Basilica or a Buddhist Shrine.
They are often schools for slaughter and armories of evil, sad to say...Even in New Jersey, where the one-eyed mullah architect of the FIRST World Trade Center bomb attack, Yussef kept his murderous explosives.
Well, they are not!
This subject came to mind when the ignorant "journalists", who have probably never seen the inside of ANY kind of House of Worship got all excited and critical about the Coalition forces (including Iraqi troops), "storming" a Sunni Islamic mosque in Baghdad.
Well, they DID storm the mosque, after the pro-forma obligatory prayers on Friday.
They did so after being asked by the Iraqi Government to do so.
They found enough armament and ammunition to overthrow Castro. They had to actually KILL some people using the armament against them.
I have been in several mosques, on travels and even in Texas and Florida. They do some praying there, but that is not the sole raison d'etre of the mosque.
Let me quote from the Encarta encyclopedia:
In religion-dominated Islamic societies, mosques serve social and political needs as well as religious ones. The mosque became a forum for many public functions, serving as a law court, school, assembly hall, and even as a parade ground. Adjoining chambers often house libraries, hospitals, or treasuries.
As Islam spread outside Arabia, mosque design gradually incorporated elements adapted from the architecture of conquered territories. Basilica-type mosques, such as the Great Mosque in Damascus (8th century), were based on Early Christian church design, which in turn was derived from pagan basilicas
You are welcome —as Ring Lardner used to quote Alibi Ike: "You could look it up!!!"
The Britannica goes into even more detail:
Beginning with Muhammad's own house, mosques came to be used for many public functions--military, political, social, and educational. Schools and libraries were often attached to medieval mosques (e.g., al-Azhar mosque in Cairo). The mosque also functioned as a court of justice until the introduction of secular law into many Islamic countries in modern times.
So, when the girliemen in the media wail about the nasty old Marines invading the "sanctified solitude" of a mosque be aware that they’re not like John and Charley Wesley’s Methodist Churches, nor are they akin to Maimonides’ Temple Synagogue, not even remotely in the mould of Saint Peter’s Basilica or a Buddhist Shrine.
They are often schools for slaughter and armories of evil, sad to say...Even in New Jersey, where the one-eyed mullah architect of the FIRST World Trade Center bomb attack, Yussef kept his murderous explosives.
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Lotta Shakin' Goin' On...
A whole lot has happened since the last posting here.
Dubya got more than 50 million votes and won, 32 states to 19. (District of Columbia is a "state" in this case).
Arafat has been buried. He has been morally dead since he emigrated from Tunisia, became a "Palestinian" and adopted a career as the most prominent Jew-slaughterer since Stalin and Hitler.
Scott Peterson was found guilty of double murder, in Redwood City, California, and the Mark Geragos standup comedy routine gets" the hook", as they used to day in "Vodvil".
Tony Blair came to Washington and he and Dubya announced their Mid East Doctrine.
What do all these things have as "connection"????
They bode good, not ill.
Remember, for instance, as millions did, that the Democratic Party’s candidate voted AGAINST the federal law passed by Congress called the "Laci and Connor Law" that made the murder of an unborn child murder, punishable by death.
That was, after all, part of the VALUES issue.
Arafat, through Hamas, Hizbolla, Jihad Islami, and the financial backers of Al qaeda (The Base), opposed the Republican candidate, supported vocally and financially the Democratic candidate in the U.S. election.
Chiraq, an Arafat ally, and co-conspirator, now Europe’s leading Jew hater, who closes his eyes at the burning and despoilment of synagogues in France, gets his comeuppance soon.
Now, the "Palestinians" have an open avenue to their free "state", founded on the Bush-Blair Doctrine and the removal of Jewish setters from Gaza and the West Bank by Israel.
Law and order are alive and well in the U. S. Of A. The Peterson jury said so.
It is like someone opened all the windows in a stuffy house or apartment, and carried out the forgotten garbage to the Dumpster.
And Glasswaxed all the windows.
And plugged in some Air wicks.
While all this was getting ready to happen, my Marine Lance Corporal grandson, John, his Dad and I met, dined with, and prayed with Colonel Oliver North, at the Marietta, (GA) Galleria..
An Omen! Now I know.
So! For a while, I am going to dance furiously to my composition of optimism and hope. Join me???
Dubya got more than 50 million votes and won, 32 states to 19. (District of Columbia is a "state" in this case).
Arafat has been buried. He has been morally dead since he emigrated from Tunisia, became a "Palestinian" and adopted a career as the most prominent Jew-slaughterer since Stalin and Hitler.
Scott Peterson was found guilty of double murder, in Redwood City, California, and the Mark Geragos standup comedy routine gets" the hook", as they used to day in "Vodvil".
Tony Blair came to Washington and he and Dubya announced their Mid East Doctrine.
What do all these things have as "connection"????
They bode good, not ill.
Remember, for instance, as millions did, that the Democratic Party’s candidate voted AGAINST the federal law passed by Congress called the "Laci and Connor Law" that made the murder of an unborn child murder, punishable by death.
That was, after all, part of the VALUES issue.
Arafat, through Hamas, Hizbolla, Jihad Islami, and the financial backers of Al qaeda (The Base), opposed the Republican candidate, supported vocally and financially the Democratic candidate in the U.S. election.
Chiraq, an Arafat ally, and co-conspirator, now Europe’s leading Jew hater, who closes his eyes at the burning and despoilment of synagogues in France, gets his comeuppance soon.
Now, the "Palestinians" have an open avenue to their free "state", founded on the Bush-Blair Doctrine and the removal of Jewish setters from Gaza and the West Bank by Israel.
Law and order are alive and well in the U. S. Of A. The Peterson jury said so.
It is like someone opened all the windows in a stuffy house or apartment, and carried out the forgotten garbage to the Dumpster.
And Glasswaxed all the windows.
And plugged in some Air wicks.
While all this was getting ready to happen, my Marine Lance Corporal grandson, John, his Dad and I met, dined with, and prayed with Colonel Oliver North, at the Marietta, (GA) Galleria..
An Omen! Now I know.
So! For a while, I am going to dance furiously to my composition of optimism and hope. Join me???
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
They Just Don't Get It!!! It's the "Smell"
I have decided that "they" just do not "get" it.
By "they" , I mean the broadcast television "news" people and the so-called "mainstream media" : Time and Newsweek mags, the New York Times, Wash Post,
Reuters, and even the Associated Press.
These noisome irritants and their managers are lost in space. They are also trapped in conspiracy, which is always trumped by honesty and truth.
"They" were, you know, completely responsible for the poorly named "exit polls" that they leaked during the noontime of Tuesday's election, in an effort to dishearten Bush supporters, and color the early election reporting.
They also hoped to control the "call" of states by the television pundits. And, sadly, they ALMOST succeeded. Gunshy newcomers waited 'way unreasonably long before "calling" South Carolina and Virginia for Bush---because of the bogus "exit polling".
Now, here is the dirty little secret. When they discover that a person surveyed in a poll is a "Christian" or a "Mormon", they throw out the sample.
Zogby meticulously isolates all "Born Again Christians" in his surveys. I can swear to that in court.
So, what the exit polls did NOT count Tuesday motning were Believers. I think they must discard devout Jews, also.
Brcause the Believers were the margin of victory for the President.
I think the pollsters can spot them in a voting line by the way they smell.
I mean, you can look at a print or photo LIKENESS of Michael Moore side by side with one of Laura Buish, and know which one smells better!!!!
Huh? Huh? Am I wrong?!!!!!
By "they" , I mean the broadcast television "news" people and the so-called "mainstream media" : Time and Newsweek mags, the New York Times, Wash Post,
Reuters, and even the Associated Press.
These noisome irritants and their managers are lost in space. They are also trapped in conspiracy, which is always trumped by honesty and truth.
"They" were, you know, completely responsible for the poorly named "exit polls" that they leaked during the noontime of Tuesday's election, in an effort to dishearten Bush supporters, and color the early election reporting.
They also hoped to control the "call" of states by the television pundits. And, sadly, they ALMOST succeeded. Gunshy newcomers waited 'way unreasonably long before "calling" South Carolina and Virginia for Bush---because of the bogus "exit polling".
Now, here is the dirty little secret. When they discover that a person surveyed in a poll is a "Christian" or a "Mormon", they throw out the sample.
Zogby meticulously isolates all "Born Again Christians" in his surveys. I can swear to that in court.
So, what the exit polls did NOT count Tuesday motning were Believers. I think they must discard devout Jews, also.
Brcause the Believers were the margin of victory for the President.
I think the pollsters can spot them in a voting line by the way they smell.
I mean, you can look at a print or photo LIKENESS of Michael Moore side by side with one of Laura Buish, and know which one smells better!!!!
Huh? Huh? Am I wrong?!!!!!
Friday, October 22, 2004
He Was Bareheaded That Day....
They almost called off the Inauguration.
It was an ice and snow`burdened day.
No one was warm or comfortable.
And those of us who were truly THERE, who were truly ALIVE,
cried, prophetiocally---at the beginning, at the center, and at the perorative ending of the inaugural address.
The man who gave the address, tan and handsome to the point of being transcendent, was bareheaded.
Listen to John Fitzgerald Kennedy on January 20, 1961:
Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice President Nixon, President Truman, reverend clergy, fellow citizens, we observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom—symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning—signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe—the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage—and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge—and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do—for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom—and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required—not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge—to convert our good words into good deeds—in a new alliance for progress—to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support—to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective—to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak—and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
12
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course—both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew—remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms—and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah—to "undo the heavy burdens ... and to let the oppressed go free."
And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first 1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"—a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility—I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it—and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
(My name is Bill Allen, and I approve this message!!!!)
He Was Bareheaded That Day....
They almost called off the Inauguration.
It was an ice and snow`burdened day.
No one was warm or comfortable.
And those of us who were truly THERE, who were truly ALIVE,
cried, prophetiocally---at the beginning, at the center, and at the perorative ending of the inaugural address.
The man who gave the address, tan and handsome to the point of being transcendent, was bareheaded.
Listen to John Fitzgerald Kennedy on January 20, 1961:
Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice President Nixon, President Truman, reverend clergy, fellow citizens, we observe today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom—symbolizing an end, as well as a beginning—signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.
The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe—the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state, but from the hand of God.
We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans—born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage—and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.
Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.
This much we pledge—and more.
To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do—for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.
To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom—and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.
To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required—not because the Communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.
To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge—to convert our good words into good deeds—in a new alliance for progress—to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.
To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support—to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective—to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak—and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.
Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.
We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.
12
But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course—both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.
So let us begin anew—remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.
Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.
Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms—and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.
Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths, and encourage the arts and commerce.
Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah—to "undo the heavy burdens ... and to let the oppressed go free."
And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.
All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first 1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.
In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.
Now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"—a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease, and war itself.
In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility—I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it—and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.
And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.
My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.
Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
(My name is Bill Allen, and I approve this message!!!!)
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
For a Dotter in Great Pain--The Inside Job
I have many beautiful "Dotters". This is edited from a private letter ro one:
Dearest Dotter,
I think we need to talk...At least I do. To you.
If Betts or Ribonno sel Oylem were here, this is what they would say, in unison:
"You are not your running sores nor are you your afflictions and fears. You are NOT your avoidupois, nor your spiritual myopia. You are not even just "the hand you have been dealt to play", so to speak!!!
"You are a child of GOD and your Inside Soul is perfect as long as YOU do not conspire with outsiders to erode or destoy it!!!"
If "they" knew how to undo it they would. Remember, to the Health Care professionals, EVERYTHING is a dam death threat. Their whole war is with physical decay. They really do not care much about "pain" or "fear" nowadays...and they will rarely address them, because they are ill equipped to do so.
Most of their emollients (like corticosteroids) are addictions, and they know NOTHING (and do not want to know ANYTHIN G) about addiction desease.
I can only tell you from personal experience, as one who is a victim of the disease of addiction, as one who is almost totally blind and as one who is almost totally deaf, and as one who has survived (so far) two kinds of cancer...I can tell you that survival is mostly an INDIDE job...and....
What you LOOK like, what you SOUND like, what you "FEEL" like are all sort of prism-struck by-products of what you ARE--God's Precious Child.
Survival is an inside job, and what you weigh, what you look like, what you "see" and what you "hear" is really all excrescense, as far as your SELF, your "God-In-Woman" is concerned.
Get some Emily Dickinson poetry, some of the Little Flowers of Saint Francis, some of the Baghavad Gita, some of Dr. Wayme Dyer. Immerse your inner self in it.
You are eating away at yourself and devouring yourself, just like those microbes they make scary news stories and movies about.
I was about 37 years old when they tolm me that I'd never walk again, that I'd nevr ride a horse again, et cetera, ad nauseum. That was a long time before Cancer, blindness, deafness, or recovery from addiction disease.
I had a very close, very wonderful friend, my mother's age, a woman whom I thought really close to our family of five. But, as I was paralyzed, she looked me over one day and neevr spoke to me again. I could see it in her eyes. I had never been "dropped" before. I was devastated!...For about a week.
My Blessed Angel Betts made everything except her --and the boys---unimportant. All I wanted was Betts again, and the fun of my sons and to love and play with the ferocity we had always loved and played. That was my first great lesson in life and I was niot yet 40.
We do not exist in others' eyes, or minds, or thoughts.
Existence is an INSIDE job. And, we do it alone or we fail.
Pills and elixrs and medicines may come and go.
But survival requires that we ENDURE, an reserve the right to laugh at our selves, our pain, our egotism, and our surrenders.
I may stumble blindly, hobble and
lurch.
But, in my soul, I still dance, and no one but me can hear my music.
Because it is an inside job.
Dearest Dotter,
I think we need to talk...At least I do. To you.
If Betts or Ribonno sel Oylem were here, this is what they would say, in unison:
"You are not your running sores nor are you your afflictions and fears. You are NOT your avoidupois, nor your spiritual myopia. You are not even just "the hand you have been dealt to play", so to speak!!!
"You are a child of GOD and your Inside Soul is perfect as long as YOU do not conspire with outsiders to erode or destoy it!!!"
If "they" knew how to undo it they would. Remember, to the Health Care professionals, EVERYTHING is a dam death threat. Their whole war is with physical decay. They really do not care much about "pain" or "fear" nowadays...and they will rarely address them, because they are ill equipped to do so.
Most of their emollients (like corticosteroids) are addictions, and they know NOTHING (and do not want to know ANYTHIN G) about addiction desease.
I can only tell you from personal experience, as one who is a victim of the disease of addiction, as one who is almost totally blind and as one who is almost totally deaf, and as one who has survived (so far) two kinds of cancer...I can tell you that survival is mostly an INDIDE job...and....
What you LOOK like, what you SOUND like, what you "FEEL" like are all sort of prism-struck by-products of what you ARE--God's Precious Child.
Survival is an inside job, and what you weigh, what you look like, what you "see" and what you "hear" is really all excrescense, as far as your SELF, your "God-In-Woman" is concerned.
Get some Emily Dickinson poetry, some of the Little Flowers of Saint Francis, some of the Baghavad Gita, some of Dr. Wayme Dyer. Immerse your inner self in it.
You are eating away at yourself and devouring yourself, just like those microbes they make scary news stories and movies about.
I was about 37 years old when they tolm me that I'd never walk again, that I'd nevr ride a horse again, et cetera, ad nauseum. That was a long time before Cancer, blindness, deafness, or recovery from addiction disease.
I had a very close, very wonderful friend, my mother's age, a woman whom I thought really close to our family of five. But, as I was paralyzed, she looked me over one day and neevr spoke to me again. I could see it in her eyes. I had never been "dropped" before. I was devastated!...For about a week.
My Blessed Angel Betts made everything except her --and the boys---unimportant. All I wanted was Betts again, and the fun of my sons and to love and play with the ferocity we had always loved and played. That was my first great lesson in life and I was niot yet 40.
We do not exist in others' eyes, or minds, or thoughts.
Existence is an INSIDE job. And, we do it alone or we fail.
Pills and elixrs and medicines may come and go.
But survival requires that we ENDURE, an reserve the right to laugh at our selves, our pain, our egotism, and our surrenders.
I may stumble blindly, hobble and
lurch.
But, in my soul, I still dance, and no one but me can hear my music.
Because it is an inside job.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
There's A Book....
Swastikas burned into people's lawns in Madison Wisconsin because they have Republican signs in their yard...
Teacher booted in New Jersey because she had a photo of the current president of the United States tacked on a corkboard with the other 42 and the Declaration of Independence and The U.S. Constitution...
A girlie-man senator shrilling that anyone who voes for a Republican administration is "out of his mind...insane..."
A dsgruntled prent telling a teacher she should not even murmur the name of the president "because he has 'illed people' ..."
A rich-witch white woman--Frst Lady wannabe-- calling herself an African-American and calling those who disagree with her "scumbags" and "idiots" and telling the press and media to "shove it"...
The whole print and audio/video media conspiring to keep barely alive the fantasy that Saddam Gussein gave no support to Global terrorism....Despit the fact that Hamad and Hizbolla suicide bombers got $25,000 apiece DIRECTLY from Saddam before and after September 11, 2001....
All these things are ....uh....Weird?....Impossible to imagine in the U.S. of A ??...How about that ole softie expression, SURREAL???!!!!
Well, I hate to tell you, but the election of 1800 was worse.
I just read about it again in three biograohies. One of John Adams, one of Thomas Jefferson ("American Sphynx") and one of Alexander Hamilton.
But, there is a whole new book--a sang und sich, so to speak---
named "The Election of 1800".
If you want to read about the nastiest contest of them all, have a look-see at this tome. It is an eye opener. I'll jst close this with an opion that Jim Carville, Paul Begala, Nancy Prlosi and The Killer of Chappaquiddick have nothing on T. Jefferson and Co., in their pursuit of the presidency.
As a matter of fact, these modern guys are limpwristed girlie men indeed, in comparison.
Teacher booted in New Jersey because she had a photo of the current president of the United States tacked on a corkboard with the other 42 and the Declaration of Independence and The U.S. Constitution...
A girlie-man senator shrilling that anyone who voes for a Republican administration is "out of his mind...insane..."
A dsgruntled prent telling a teacher she should not even murmur the name of the president "because he has 'illed people' ..."
A rich-witch white woman--Frst Lady wannabe-- calling herself an African-American and calling those who disagree with her "scumbags" and "idiots" and telling the press and media to "shove it"...
The whole print and audio/video media conspiring to keep barely alive the fantasy that Saddam Gussein gave no support to Global terrorism....Despit the fact that Hamad and Hizbolla suicide bombers got $25,000 apiece DIRECTLY from Saddam before and after September 11, 2001....
All these things are ....uh....Weird?....Impossible to imagine in the U.S. of A ??...How about that ole softie expression, SURREAL???!!!!
Well, I hate to tell you, but the election of 1800 was worse.
I just read about it again in three biograohies. One of John Adams, one of Thomas Jefferson ("American Sphynx") and one of Alexander Hamilton.
But, there is a whole new book--a sang und sich, so to speak---
named "The Election of 1800".
If you want to read about the nastiest contest of them all, have a look-see at this tome. It is an eye opener. I'll jst close this with an opion that Jim Carville, Paul Begala, Nancy Prlosi and The Killer of Chappaquiddick have nothing on T. Jefferson and Co., in their pursuit of the presidency.
As a matter of fact, these modern guys are limpwristed girlie men indeed, in comparison.
There's A Book....
Swastikas burned into people's lawns in Madison Wisconsin because they have Republican signs in their yard...
Teacher booted in New Jersey because she had a photo of the current president of the United States tacked on a corkboard with the other 42 and the Declaration of Independence and The U.S. Constitution...
A girlie-man senator shrilling that anyone who voes for a Republican administration is "out of his mind...insane..."
A dsgruntled prent telling a teacher she should not even murmur the name of the president "because he has 'illed people' ..."
A rich-witch white woman--Frst Lady wannabe-- calling herself an African-American and calling those who disagree with her "scumbags" and "idiots" and telling the press and media to "shove it"...
The whole print and audio/video media conspiring to keep barely alive the fantasy that Saddam Gussein gave no support to Global terrorism....Despit the fact that Hamad and Hizbolla suicide bombers got $25,000 apiece DIRECTLY from Saddam before and after September 11, 2001....
All these things are ....uh....Weird?....Impossible to imagine in the U.S. of A ??...How about that ole softie expression, SURREAL???!!!!
Well, I hate to tell you, but the election of 1800 was worse.
I just read about it again in three biograohies. One of John Adams, one of Thomas Jefferson ("American Sphynx") and one of Alexander Hamilton.
But, there is a whole new book--a sang und sich, so to speak---
named "The Election of 1800".
If you want to read about the nastiest contest of them all, have a look-see at this tome. It is an eye opener. I'll jst close this with an opion that Jim Carville, Paul Begala, Nancy Prlosi and The Killer of Chappaquiddick have nothing on T. Jefferson and Co., in their pursuit of the presidency.
As a matter of fact, these modern guys are limpwristed girlie men indeed, in comparison.
Teacher booted in New Jersey because she had a photo of the current president of the United States tacked on a corkboard with the other 42 and the Declaration of Independence and The U.S. Constitution...
A girlie-man senator shrilling that anyone who voes for a Republican administration is "out of his mind...insane..."
A dsgruntled prent telling a teacher she should not even murmur the name of the president "because he has 'illed people' ..."
A rich-witch white woman--Frst Lady wannabe-- calling herself an African-American and calling those who disagree with her "scumbags" and "idiots" and telling the press and media to "shove it"...
The whole print and audio/video media conspiring to keep barely alive the fantasy that Saddam Gussein gave no support to Global terrorism....Despit the fact that Hamad and Hizbolla suicide bombers got $25,000 apiece DIRECTLY from Saddam before and after September 11, 2001....
All these things are ....uh....Weird?....Impossible to imagine in the U.S. of A ??...How about that ole softie expression, SURREAL???!!!!
Well, I hate to tell you, but the election of 1800 was worse.
I just read about it again in three biograohies. One of John Adams, one of Thomas Jefferson ("American Sphynx") and one of Alexander Hamilton.
But, there is a whole new book--a sang und sich, so to speak---
named "The Election of 1800".
If you want to read about the nastiest contest of them all, have a look-see at this tome. It is an eye opener. I'll jst close this with an opion that Jim Carville, Paul Begala, Nancy Prlosi and The Killer of Chappaquiddick have nothing on T. Jefferson and Co., in their pursuit of the presidency.
As a matter of fact, these modern guys are limpwristed girlie men indeed, in comparison.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
What does "al-Quaeda" Mean??
Just dabbling around in some arabic, I connected some dots.
Check me. How close is this?
If I am not mistaken, a woman named Claire Townsend first wrote in english about a richly funded terrorist network assembled with a great deal of care by rebel sons of wealthy men in Saudi Arabia---not necessarily from the 400 "Royal Family" members.
Young (at Townsend's early revelation) and ganglyesque Osana bin Laden was the organizer and methodological parent of what he called "al Qaeda". He was "Ubana" then, thus "UBL".
Al Quaeda translates as, simply, The Base.
The Base. The foundation. The first stone on which the inverted pyramid is built.
Now I want to suggest that all the "journalists" who seem to believe that al Quaeda is HERE in one collect and that Hizbolla is THERE and that Hamas is OVER THERE and the Jihad Islami is SOMEWHERE ELSE and the Chechenya Terrorists are in CHECHENYA...Well, I say that there are none so blind as those who WILL NOT see!
Just as the chicken little brains persist in separating the War on Terror from the War in Iraq, the minimalist journalists who have no stomach for the macro picture persist in limiting Hamas to Syria and the West Bank, the Jihad Islami to Jenin, Hizbolla to Lebanon and so on ad nauseum.
These names, Hamas, Hizbolla, Jihad Islami--and even Arafat's al-Acqua Brigades---are simply names that have been formerly used, ostensibly, to beg for almns, for "charity" entities that have hoodwinked governments and the international press for decades.
But they's all the SAME people!!!
It's really strange, because I can remember in 1948 when a similar "charity" group called "Irgun" was vilified in the United States because it funnelled money to Jewish freedom fighters in what was then the Protectorate of Palestine.
As a youg newspaperman, I contributed money to Irgun. Me and Billy Rose. If you don't know him, don't ask. You probably never heard of Bernard Baruch, either.
Anyway, bin Laden did not name his network "The Base" without purpose.
Like the cockroaches they ape, the terrorists never do anything witout purpose.
They run from bright light, too.
Check me. How close is this?
If I am not mistaken, a woman named Claire Townsend first wrote in english about a richly funded terrorist network assembled with a great deal of care by rebel sons of wealthy men in Saudi Arabia---not necessarily from the 400 "Royal Family" members.
Young (at Townsend's early revelation) and ganglyesque Osana bin Laden was the organizer and methodological parent of what he called "al Qaeda". He was "Ubana" then, thus "UBL".
Al Quaeda translates as, simply, The Base.
The Base. The foundation. The first stone on which the inverted pyramid is built.
Now I want to suggest that all the "journalists" who seem to believe that al Quaeda is HERE in one collect and that Hizbolla is THERE and that Hamas is OVER THERE and the Jihad Islami is SOMEWHERE ELSE and the Chechenya Terrorists are in CHECHENYA...Well, I say that there are none so blind as those who WILL NOT see!
Just as the chicken little brains persist in separating the War on Terror from the War in Iraq, the minimalist journalists who have no stomach for the macro picture persist in limiting Hamas to Syria and the West Bank, the Jihad Islami to Jenin, Hizbolla to Lebanon and so on ad nauseum.
These names, Hamas, Hizbolla, Jihad Islami--and even Arafat's al-Acqua Brigades---are simply names that have been formerly used, ostensibly, to beg for almns, for "charity" entities that have hoodwinked governments and the international press for decades.
But they's all the SAME people!!!
It's really strange, because I can remember in 1948 when a similar "charity" group called "Irgun" was vilified in the United States because it funnelled money to Jewish freedom fighters in what was then the Protectorate of Palestine.
As a youg newspaperman, I contributed money to Irgun. Me and Billy Rose. If you don't know him, don't ask. You probably never heard of Bernard Baruch, either.
Anyway, bin Laden did not name his network "The Base" without purpose.
Like the cockroaches they ape, the terrorists never do anything witout purpose.
They run from bright light, too.
Monday, September 20, 2004
H U B R I S
Of course, as a former newspaperman, I MUST comment on the abysmal C B***S*** Memogate .
The first flash that came to mind after I got over my paroxysms of gleeful laughter was the many-hued projection, on my brainpan of the word "hubris"!!!
For the rest of this posting, I'll just quote the THESAURUS, that wonderful ncient animal that has survived to bring nuance to the age of Rock and Roll:
Entries found for hubris.
Entry: arrogance
Function: noun
Definition:
ego
Synonyms: airs, aloofness, audacity, bluster, braggadocio, brass, cheek, chutzpah, conceit, conceitedness, contemptuousness, crust, disdain, disdainfulness, ego, egotism, gall, haughtiness, hauteur, high-handedness, hubris, imperiousness, insolence, loftiness, nerve, ostentation, overbearance, pomposity, pompousness, presumption, pretension, pretentiousness, pride, priggishness, scornfulness, self-importance, self-love, smugness, superciliousness, swagger, vanity
Antonyms:
humility, modesty
Source:
Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.0.5)Copyright © 2004 by Lexico Publishing Group, LLC. All rights reserved.
The first flash that came to mind after I got over my paroxysms of gleeful laughter was the many-hued projection, on my brainpan of the word "hubris"!!!
For the rest of this posting, I'll just quote the THESAURUS, that wonderful ncient animal that has survived to bring nuance to the age of Rock and Roll:
Entries found for hubris.
Entry: arrogance
Function: noun
Definition:
ego
Synonyms: airs, aloofness, audacity, bluster, braggadocio, brass, cheek, chutzpah, conceit, conceitedness, contemptuousness, crust, disdain, disdainfulness, ego, egotism, gall, haughtiness, hauteur, high-handedness, hubris, imperiousness, insolence, loftiness, nerve, ostentation, overbearance, pomposity, pompousness, presumption, pretension, pretentiousness, pride, priggishness, scornfulness, self-importance, self-love, smugness, superciliousness, swagger, vanity
Antonyms:
humility, modesty
Source:
Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus, First Edition (v 1.0.5)Copyright © 2004 by Lexico Publishing Group, LLC. All rights reserved.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Thoreau Had It Right !
After all, Thoreau was right.
My strawberry blonde dynamo, Betty Taylor took me home to Hiawassee in the mountains where she and my surviving sons had a reunion to attend.
It was not amiss that the reunion of hundreds of high school students from the decade between 1960 and 1970 would choose 9 / 11 to gather.
Hiawassee is probably the safest place on earth–in a valley graced by 6,000 acre Lake Chatuge, and guarded by mountain gaps all around.
When we lived there during the Cuban Missile Crisis, we all just planned to blow up the gaps and hunker down if the Russians invaded.
I bought three cases of .22 long hollowpoint cartridges so we could live off of squirrels, varmints and songbirds if necessary.
But my youngest son, Victor shot them all up target-practicing while I watched JFK on television. Vic became a dead shot at age 11.....And we would have been hungry and out of luck if Kruschev hadn’t backed down.
I was reminded of this as my two surviving sons, Betty and I visited my oldest, very bestest friend in the mountains—indeed, in the whole world–Vaughan McConnell.
Keith and I found him and Betty and Mike came along soon after from the reunion.
He has always been known as "Hoover", except by his late wife Gerry, who never called him anything but "Vaughan".
Hoover is 87-going-on-27.
He is a cabinetmaker, restorer of violins, mandolins, banjos and builder of grandfather clocks. He can do marquetry and parquetry and inlay as flawlessly as any Italian master.
He also built the Dream Home, "Lairdcliffe" that Betts and I and our sons occupied for more than 20 years between Hiawassee and Young Harris.
And, Hoover is still working in his shop, where he has the very latest model woodworking equipment as well as a wondrous treasure trove of antique wood shaping tools.
"Y’ know, Bill," Hoover began the long rambling conversation, "I fell and hurt my shoulder real bad up on your favorite Ramey Mountain cove..."
"Hell", I laughed, "that was in 1965, and you broke the lantern! Does it still hurt?"
"Listen to me!", Hoover said, "I mean just las’ week!"
"You jus’ tryin’ to hurt a pore ol’ bline man’s feelins, " I barked. "Next thing, you’ll tell me you still drive!!!"
"Nearly every day", Hoover laughed.
"Look, Bill", he said after we had argued everything from where we saw the panther on Tray mountain to the genesis of Mayan and Easter Island sculptures and structures, "only thing I look at on television is Braves baseball. I have this cove all to myself, my garden, my little pure branch singing along, my pure gravity water supply from up on the mountain there–no chlorine, fluorine or additives, just an occasional spring lizard in the pipe.
"And I’ve got my work...and this screen porch and I don’t smoke and I don’t eat all that much, and I got so much to think about...And nothing to get mad about as long as I just look at baseball.
"What would anybody want more than that? There are still things to make....If I want to.... And some days I want to."
I sat there, and he sounded like he did in 1956. Exactly. He was sitting almost in exactly the same place, moving his mouth and ice blue eyes earnestly, honestly, without guile or mischief.
I was transported back to the 'coons we had treed, rocks we had hauled, the concrete we had poured, the buildings he had built to fill the very soul of my family, and the music we had shared, and all the stringed instruments he had fixed and made, the clocks and furniture repairs, for which he believed it would be unforgivingly base to accept pay.
It was almost a physical shock to realize that this man, my own Hoover McConnell, was probably the only man that I had ever known who would not....could not...lie or dissemble.
And it is a function of the place where he lives and the way he has lived his life since he came home from Australia, Buna, New Georgia, married Gerry and built his universe in McConnell Cove on the shoulder of the Ramey.
I wish I had never left there. It was a visit to paradise to be at Hoover’s again.
My strawberry blonde dynamo, Betty Taylor took me home to Hiawassee in the mountains where she and my surviving sons had a reunion to attend.
It was not amiss that the reunion of hundreds of high school students from the decade between 1960 and 1970 would choose 9 / 11 to gather.
Hiawassee is probably the safest place on earth–in a valley graced by 6,000 acre Lake Chatuge, and guarded by mountain gaps all around.
When we lived there during the Cuban Missile Crisis, we all just planned to blow up the gaps and hunker down if the Russians invaded.
I bought three cases of .22 long hollowpoint cartridges so we could live off of squirrels, varmints and songbirds if necessary.
But my youngest son, Victor shot them all up target-practicing while I watched JFK on television. Vic became a dead shot at age 11.....And we would have been hungry and out of luck if Kruschev hadn’t backed down.
I was reminded of this as my two surviving sons, Betty and I visited my oldest, very bestest friend in the mountains—indeed, in the whole world–Vaughan McConnell.
Keith and I found him and Betty and Mike came along soon after from the reunion.
He has always been known as "Hoover", except by his late wife Gerry, who never called him anything but "Vaughan".
Hoover is 87-going-on-27.
He is a cabinetmaker, restorer of violins, mandolins, banjos and builder of grandfather clocks. He can do marquetry and parquetry and inlay as flawlessly as any Italian master.
He also built the Dream Home, "Lairdcliffe" that Betts and I and our sons occupied for more than 20 years between Hiawassee and Young Harris.
And, Hoover is still working in his shop, where he has the very latest model woodworking equipment as well as a wondrous treasure trove of antique wood shaping tools.
"Y’ know, Bill," Hoover began the long rambling conversation, "I fell and hurt my shoulder real bad up on your favorite Ramey Mountain cove..."
"Hell", I laughed, "that was in 1965, and you broke the lantern! Does it still hurt?"
"Listen to me!", Hoover said, "I mean just las’ week!"
"You jus’ tryin’ to hurt a pore ol’ bline man’s feelins, " I barked. "Next thing, you’ll tell me you still drive!!!"
"Nearly every day", Hoover laughed.
"Look, Bill", he said after we had argued everything from where we saw the panther on Tray mountain to the genesis of Mayan and Easter Island sculptures and structures, "only thing I look at on television is Braves baseball. I have this cove all to myself, my garden, my little pure branch singing along, my pure gravity water supply from up on the mountain there–no chlorine, fluorine or additives, just an occasional spring lizard in the pipe.
"And I’ve got my work...and this screen porch and I don’t smoke and I don’t eat all that much, and I got so much to think about...And nothing to get mad about as long as I just look at baseball.
"What would anybody want more than that? There are still things to make....If I want to.... And some days I want to."
I sat there, and he sounded like he did in 1956. Exactly. He was sitting almost in exactly the same place, moving his mouth and ice blue eyes earnestly, honestly, without guile or mischief.
I was transported back to the 'coons we had treed, rocks we had hauled, the concrete we had poured, the buildings he had built to fill the very soul of my family, and the music we had shared, and all the stringed instruments he had fixed and made, the clocks and furniture repairs, for which he believed it would be unforgivingly base to accept pay.
It was almost a physical shock to realize that this man, my own Hoover McConnell, was probably the only man that I had ever known who would not....could not...lie or dissemble.
And it is a function of the place where he lives and the way he has lived his life since he came home from Australia, Buna, New Georgia, married Gerry and built his universe in McConnell Cove on the shoulder of the Ramey.
I wish I had never left there. It was a visit to paradise to be at Hoover’s again.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Call Them All What They Are....
I have been thinking about Sirhan Bishara Sirhan every day since the savage terrorists slaughtered the little Russian children in their school.
The Associated Press, The New York Times, the Washington Post, Time and Newsweek magazines and the three "broadcast" networks, plus CNN all–I mean ALL–referred to these bloody terrorists who made a Russian school an abattoir, " just hostage-takers".
I began to canvass my memory, searching for the date of the beginning of the war we are in.
For me, it was June 5, 1968. That’s when this little Jew-hater walked up to Bobby Kennedy in a Los Angeles hotel kitchen hallway and slaughtered the man who was the apparent Democratic successor to Lyndon B. Johnson.
But no one has ever called this Jerusalem-born Jordanian terrorist a terrorist, either. He was sentenced to die in California gas chamber, not many remember, only to be saved by the Warren Supreme Court’s ban on the death penalty.
Sirhan is still alive, but so far as I can find out, has been given a pass by the media on the ritual anniversary interviews the press so loves.
And since Bobby Kennedy was such a darling of the media establishment, I have never understood why.
Since that assassination, how many terrorist crimes have we experienced? I remember when Carlos the Jackal assassinated whomever he pleased whenever. Le Grande Charles (de Gaulle)
was the one target he never snuffed out, though he haunted the Champs d’Elyssee every Bastille Day.
My angel princess Betts and I saw Georges Pompidou ride from L’Etoile to the Arc de Tiomphe in 1969—the first year the French could see their president openly without bulletproof, tinted glass since the beginning of the Gaullist Republic.
Terrorists. They used to plague the "old Europe" to keep Her in strict antiSemitic line.
Now, they have angered and awakened the people of the United States, the United Kingdom (and one of the UK’s Commonwealth-Nations, Australia.
Then, last weekend, they have slaughtered babies and the Russian people are blazing mad. President Putin walks and talks angry, and uses the word "terrorists" to describe the killers, not the limp-wristed phrase "hostage-takers".
Is this provocation for Russia to join the United States as an ally in the war on terror? Will TASS news agency in Moscow call them Muslim extremists? Will Russia circulate images of the al Quaeda child slayers?
Since we did little when they pushed Klinghoffer off the ocean liner just because he was Jewish, we have had many people killed in terrorist attacks: Marines in Beirut, Sailors in Yemen, hundreds in air hijack and bomb plots.
But did they have to destroy two buildings and kill 3,000 people to get our attention?
Or was it that they picked on the wrong US president?
If Castro hadn’t paid Oswald to kill JFK, would JFK have declared a war on terrorists when Sirhan Sirhan killed Bobby?
You gotta love that train of thought.!...I’m surprised none of the "media" has come up with this seemingly goofy, but undeniably awestruck theme. The media is, after all, the center, the nexus of the "why???" and "If only" school of History.
The Associated Press, The New York Times, the Washington Post, Time and Newsweek magazines and the three "broadcast" networks, plus CNN all–I mean ALL–referred to these bloody terrorists who made a Russian school an abattoir, " just hostage-takers".
I began to canvass my memory, searching for the date of the beginning of the war we are in.
For me, it was June 5, 1968. That’s when this little Jew-hater walked up to Bobby Kennedy in a Los Angeles hotel kitchen hallway and slaughtered the man who was the apparent Democratic successor to Lyndon B. Johnson.
But no one has ever called this Jerusalem-born Jordanian terrorist a terrorist, either. He was sentenced to die in California gas chamber, not many remember, only to be saved by the Warren Supreme Court’s ban on the death penalty.
Sirhan is still alive, but so far as I can find out, has been given a pass by the media on the ritual anniversary interviews the press so loves.
And since Bobby Kennedy was such a darling of the media establishment, I have never understood why.
Since that assassination, how many terrorist crimes have we experienced? I remember when Carlos the Jackal assassinated whomever he pleased whenever. Le Grande Charles (de Gaulle)
was the one target he never snuffed out, though he haunted the Champs d’Elyssee every Bastille Day.
My angel princess Betts and I saw Georges Pompidou ride from L’Etoile to the Arc de Tiomphe in 1969—the first year the French could see their president openly without bulletproof, tinted glass since the beginning of the Gaullist Republic.
Terrorists. They used to plague the "old Europe" to keep Her in strict antiSemitic line.
Now, they have angered and awakened the people of the United States, the United Kingdom (and one of the UK’s Commonwealth-Nations, Australia.
Then, last weekend, they have slaughtered babies and the Russian people are blazing mad. President Putin walks and talks angry, and uses the word "terrorists" to describe the killers, not the limp-wristed phrase "hostage-takers".
Is this provocation for Russia to join the United States as an ally in the war on terror? Will TASS news agency in Moscow call them Muslim extremists? Will Russia circulate images of the al Quaeda child slayers?
Since we did little when they pushed Klinghoffer off the ocean liner just because he was Jewish, we have had many people killed in terrorist attacks: Marines in Beirut, Sailors in Yemen, hundreds in air hijack and bomb plots.
But did they have to destroy two buildings and kill 3,000 people to get our attention?
Or was it that they picked on the wrong US president?
If Castro hadn’t paid Oswald to kill JFK, would JFK have declared a war on terrorists when Sirhan Sirhan killed Bobby?
You gotta love that train of thought.!...I’m surprised none of the "media" has come up with this seemingly goofy, but undeniably awestruck theme. The media is, after all, the center, the nexus of the "why???" and "If only" school of History.
Monday, August 30, 2004
Good Reverberations....
One of my former students dropped me a nice note last week, including what the student characterized as "axioms" I laid down in a seminar one night in Florida.
I read them over, and decided it would probably be more politique to describe them as opinions !
As a matter of fact, I can add to them with fuel from the 20-odd years that have passed since this student took his notes.
I'd still embrace every word, and so I'll "put them in a Blog" as the student asked me to. Here they are:
"To be teachable is to be spiritual, and to be spiritual is to be teachable."
"Protecting humans from making mistakes or hurting themselves will produce an overabundance of fools."
"Any so-called Learning Institution which values its teachers more than its students is worthless."
"Most good teachers press for error by their minions. Error is the true source of wisdom."
"Advancing a student because of his physiognomy or breeding is criminal activity."
"Most "failures"in schools are by teachers...not students."
"No one has ever honestly seen and described a political election correctly from within the D.C. Beltway, or from a television anchorchair.
But somewhere, in Missouri, Georgia, Wisconsin, Texas or Colorado, there is a person who just KNOWS in his or her gut—and KNOWS right!
I have met this citizen-voter."
(This last opinion has been dented, but not destroyed by Michael Barone of U.S. News and World Report AND Larry Sabato of the University of Virginia)
I read them over, and decided it would probably be more politique to describe them as opinions !
As a matter of fact, I can add to them with fuel from the 20-odd years that have passed since this student took his notes.
I'd still embrace every word, and so I'll "put them in a Blog" as the student asked me to. Here they are:
"To be teachable is to be spiritual, and to be spiritual is to be teachable."
"Protecting humans from making mistakes or hurting themselves will produce an overabundance of fools."
"Any so-called Learning Institution which values its teachers more than its students is worthless."
"Most good teachers press for error by their minions. Error is the true source of wisdom."
"Advancing a student because of his physiognomy or breeding is criminal activity."
"Most "failures"in schools are by teachers...not students."
"No one has ever honestly seen and described a political election correctly from within the D.C. Beltway, or from a television anchorchair.
But somewhere, in Missouri, Georgia, Wisconsin, Texas or Colorado, there is a person who just KNOWS in his or her gut—and KNOWS right!
I have met this citizen-voter."
(This last opinion has been dented, but not destroyed by Michael Barone of U.S. News and World Report AND Larry Sabato of the University of Virginia)
Sunday, August 22, 2004
The Octogenarian's Bliss
There is a great deal to be learned about Life and the Nature of Reality from observing one's great-grandchildren.
My O Best Beloved First granddaughter, Kate and her husband, my treasured Adam, brought the three, Sabrina, Dom and Kyra to visit last week.
Sabrina, the oldest, is a dark eyed beauty who loves animals, and has the perfect gentle nature of a saint-in-progress. She stirs my heart and informs my soul of the immutability of goodness. I am glad I am her "greatpop" because she could never elicit a corrective word from me. She not so much speaks to me as she confides! This is very special.
Dominick is sometimes solemn, sometimes giggly. He is unaware of his handsome beauty, but he recognizes his essence and value, especially when he is crawling all over and wrestling with Adam, his father.
Kyra is exceedingly instructive in a ferocity of fearlessness that propels her through the landscape like a landlocked waterbug. Her most pensive moments are spent in seductive smooches with Adam, and occasionally me, and always, Kate, her Mom.
Kyra was also transfixed as a nymph statue when she had an Ultralite spinning rod bent double, landing her first rainbow trout, reeling and pumping expertly in the manner of young Ernest Hemingway on the Big Two-Hearted River.
I had forgotten what wonderful tutors children can be when they are not yelled at, when they do not need to be yelled at, when they feel free to crawl over and hug their parents–even in the blinking neon and cacophony of a dark, mazy arcade.
It is true that there is more "common occupancy" by great-grandchildren and their precedents these days. But I just hope my contemporaries realize that we do not necessarily do ALL of the TEACHING in the generational mix.
This paltry offering of words is grateful acknowledgment of my lessons, and my love for Katie and Adam as well.
My O Best Beloved First granddaughter, Kate and her husband, my treasured Adam, brought the three, Sabrina, Dom and Kyra to visit last week.
Sabrina, the oldest, is a dark eyed beauty who loves animals, and has the perfect gentle nature of a saint-in-progress. She stirs my heart and informs my soul of the immutability of goodness. I am glad I am her "greatpop" because she could never elicit a corrective word from me. She not so much speaks to me as she confides! This is very special.
Dominick is sometimes solemn, sometimes giggly. He is unaware of his handsome beauty, but he recognizes his essence and value, especially when he is crawling all over and wrestling with Adam, his father.
Kyra is exceedingly instructive in a ferocity of fearlessness that propels her through the landscape like a landlocked waterbug. Her most pensive moments are spent in seductive smooches with Adam, and occasionally me, and always, Kate, her Mom.
Kyra was also transfixed as a nymph statue when she had an Ultralite spinning rod bent double, landing her first rainbow trout, reeling and pumping expertly in the manner of young Ernest Hemingway on the Big Two-Hearted River.
I had forgotten what wonderful tutors children can be when they are not yelled at, when they do not need to be yelled at, when they feel free to crawl over and hug their parents–even in the blinking neon and cacophony of a dark, mazy arcade.
It is true that there is more "common occupancy" by great-grandchildren and their precedents these days. But I just hope my contemporaries realize that we do not necessarily do ALL of the TEACHING in the generational mix.
This paltry offering of words is grateful acknowledgment of my lessons, and my love for Katie and Adam as well.
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Let's Hear It For "Sensitive"
Just a brief notice, my friends and others.
I am writing my Marine Lance Corporal grandson, John Allen, at 29-Palms, California and my good friend and fellow Pilgrim, Gunnery Sergeant Rich Tibbets in Maryland that I want them to be extremely "sensitive" the next time some muddy-bearded, redeyed fanatic points a grenade launcher at them.
I am going to make it very clear that they, or their commanding officer should seek the counsel of the nearest French, German, Russian or UN representative before they defend themselves.
And when either Rich's or John's father is squished to toothpaste or burned to ash-obliteration, in their high-rise offices, I shall counsel them, myself---to be "sensitive" in retaliation.
None of these people I talk to about waging a more "sensitive" War seem to know who Chamberlain, Dolfuss, Petain and Vidkun Quisling were.
I'm 80 years old, and of course, I know.
They were the "sensitive" warriors who contributed to the creation and systematic camouflage of Treblinka, Auschwitz, Dachau and the Holocaust despoilation of six million Jews.
Only Jews and 80-year-olds remember these "sensitive" men......
I am writing my Marine Lance Corporal grandson, John Allen, at 29-Palms, California and my good friend and fellow Pilgrim, Gunnery Sergeant Rich Tibbets in Maryland that I want them to be extremely "sensitive" the next time some muddy-bearded, redeyed fanatic points a grenade launcher at them.
I am going to make it very clear that they, or their commanding officer should seek the counsel of the nearest French, German, Russian or UN representative before they defend themselves.
And when either Rich's or John's father is squished to toothpaste or burned to ash-obliteration, in their high-rise offices, I shall counsel them, myself---to be "sensitive" in retaliation.
None of these people I talk to about waging a more "sensitive" War seem to know who Chamberlain, Dolfuss, Petain and Vidkun Quisling were.
I'm 80 years old, and of course, I know.
They were the "sensitive" warriors who contributed to the creation and systematic camouflage of Treblinka, Auschwitz, Dachau and the Holocaust despoilation of six million Jews.
Only Jews and 80-year-olds remember these "sensitive" men......
Saturday, August 07, 2004
One-Handed Friend
I have been thinking about Harry Truman lately.
He told a press conference once that he was looking for a new aide / advisor---"A one-handed economist..."
Merriman Smith, the best reporter living at that time, asked: "What do you mean, Mister President..a one-handed economist???!!"
"Well," smiled the Man from Missouri, "all these fellows I have around me now are always saying: 'on one hand, soandsoandso and on the OTHER hand, blahblahblah...' I want a ONE handed economist!!!!"
I have, as a best friend, a physician named Maureen Kathleen McLaughlin-Grant M.D.
She is a one-handed confidant of more than 25 years--since she was a Registered Nurse.
She is one-handed when it comes to decisions and problem-solving. We do not indulge in "curbside" or "casual" medicine.
But she has one handed judgnemt, and I often think how Blessed her patients are if her personal forthrightness and non-ambiguity spill over into her professional service / practice.
As I am sure they do. Breath of fresh air...
We really need more one-handed doctors...and preachers...and TV commentators...and senators...and CIA chiefs. A one-handed BUREAUCRAT is impossible even as fantasy.
Here is my list of "One-Handed" greats:
George Washington, Nathan Hale, John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Abe Lincoln, Andrew Carnegioe, Mister Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Judge Learned Hand, Thomas Edison, Theodore Roosevelt, C.S. Lewis, Bishop Fulton Sheen, Billy Graham, Senator "Scoop" Jackson, George Santayana, Reinhold Niebhur, Raymond Chandler, Walker Percy, General George Patton, Whittaker Chambers, Arthur Koestler, JRR Tolkein, Malcolm Muggeridge, Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, William F. Buckley and...Harry S. Truman.
Look around. Who will the great-grandchildren remember?
He told a press conference once that he was looking for a new aide / advisor---"A one-handed economist..."
Merriman Smith, the best reporter living at that time, asked: "What do you mean, Mister President..a one-handed economist???!!"
"Well," smiled the Man from Missouri, "all these fellows I have around me now are always saying: 'on one hand, soandsoandso and on the OTHER hand, blahblahblah...' I want a ONE handed economist!!!!"
I have, as a best friend, a physician named Maureen Kathleen McLaughlin-Grant M.D.
She is a one-handed confidant of more than 25 years--since she was a Registered Nurse.
She is one-handed when it comes to decisions and problem-solving. We do not indulge in "curbside" or "casual" medicine.
But she has one handed judgnemt, and I often think how Blessed her patients are if her personal forthrightness and non-ambiguity spill over into her professional service / practice.
As I am sure they do. Breath of fresh air...
We really need more one-handed doctors...and preachers...and TV commentators...and senators...and CIA chiefs. A one-handed BUREAUCRAT is impossible even as fantasy.
Here is my list of "One-Handed" greats:
George Washington, Nathan Hale, John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Abe Lincoln, Andrew Carnegioe, Mister Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, Judge Learned Hand, Thomas Edison, Theodore Roosevelt, C.S. Lewis, Bishop Fulton Sheen, Billy Graham, Senator "Scoop" Jackson, George Santayana, Reinhold Niebhur, Raymond Chandler, Walker Percy, General George Patton, Whittaker Chambers, Arthur Koestler, JRR Tolkein, Malcolm Muggeridge, Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Reagan, William F. Buckley and...Harry S. Truman.
Look around. Who will the great-grandchildren remember?
Monday, August 02, 2004
No Botox For The Soul.....
Summing up the week, a CNN -USA Today Gallup Poll od likely voters released Sunday shows President Gush got a four percentage point (4%) "bounce" from the Dem Convention this week in Boston.
Excwpt for Barack Obama, the new U.S. Senator from Illinois, the Dems were strange (Terry Kerry), dull (Clinton), tired (Edwards) and nuts (Tawana Brawley Sharpton).
Great name for a law firm: Strange, Tired, Dull and Knutts.
John Skerry's speech was embarrassing and creepy, like fingernails on a blackboard.
A truly great writer and thinker on the Liberal side, Sam Smith, of the Progressive Review hiy the bulseye, nailed the dance and summed the week up succinctly thusly:
Excwpt for Barack Obama, the new U.S. Senator from Illinois, the Dems were strange (Terry Kerry), dull (Clinton), tired (Edwards) and nuts (Tawana Brawley Sharpton).
Great name for a law firm: Strange, Tired, Dull and Knutts.
John Skerry's speech was embarrassing and creepy, like fingernails on a blackboard.
A truly great writer and thinker on the Liberal side, Sam Smith, of the Progressive Review hiy the bulseye, nailed the dance and summed the week up succinctly thusly:
"There is no Botox for the Soul....."
August will be HOT!
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Query to a Best Friend "Liberal"
Dear John,
Did you volunteer for the duty with Stars and Stripes, or were you drafted?
I ask this because you have always projected a positive, tho critical attitude toward your service.
It is a point of intellectual honesty and logic, I approach.
Some Americans hate the present armed conflict and the administration that mounted it because, they say, in print, on the air and in flim / tape that it is criminal for the United States to "kill 900 American kids" and that these "kids' " families and all Americans should be outraged.
This is couched in language that brings up, at worst images of press-gangs and privateers savaging the populace by wresting children from the protective and loving arms of their parents and teachers---and at best, leaves the impression that the United States still conscripts unwilling youth for the armed services.
Actually, Senator Scoop Jackson (D) and Gordon Allott (R) teamed up with a couple of their astute advisers, Richard Perle and Dr. George Will, to draft the legislatiuon that ended the draft and created an all-volunteer armed force for the United States.
These are mostly young men when they first train, yes. But, they are no longer mostly black, or mostly latino, but a pretty homogeneous cross section of the populace.
They are professionals. They sign contracts to train and learn how to kill people and break things and sink and blow up stuff.
Without regard to their admittedly low pay and poor family living conditions in SOME cases, they are hired to do what they are doing.
In fact, in most cases, theri parents sign them into the armed services. And they get perks, skills, education guaranteed, and so on.
As the grandfather of a Marine pfc at Camp Pendleton, headed for Falujah in September, I keep up with them and hear from them weekly.
By "them", I mean a Master gunny and a T-4 at Quantico who have done more than their year in Iraq.They were among some people I was lucky enough to salvage, and in some cases, restore their families.
So, all I'm asking, is...Isn;t it either illogical or intellectually dishonest to decry the deaths of the 900 as cruel and unnecessary?
They were doing the job they and their failies signed up for. I understand that. Grandson John, Godson Eddie and Sheri's Husband Richard and all their living relatives understand that.
It devalues them, and devalues all of us to make invidious characterization of their service, which is, after all, a professional contract held inviolate by them.
It devalues them, and devalues all of us to make invidious characterization of their service, which is, after all, a professional contract held inviolate by them.
Thanks for listening. I trust your level head to straighten me out if I am off base.
Love,
Bill
Monday, July 26, 2004
HISTORY IS>>>>Whaaaaaat????!!
Strictly from the perspective of a man in his eighth decade, there are three historical incidents that have shaped the national "discourse" in the United States since 1952, when General Eisenhower was elected president.
Before that, the Great Depression, FDR and World War II (implicit in which was the advent of the Nuclear Bomb / Age).
But, JFK’s commitment of the American Military to Viet Nam, his subsequent assassination by a communist dupe / Castro sympathizer and the first resignation of a president of the United States (Nixon) have been most influential in changing the way Americans see themselves and the world.
I maintain that we are still, whether the pundits and pols like it or not, instinctively isolationist, and extremely vulnerable to whatever propagandist or drmagog can manipulate this deep, George Washington-based national suspicion.
This isolationism is ironically overlaid by a desire by Americans for the rest of the world to admire us.
"Look! But don’t Touch!"
Two Great Americans, Henry Ford in this century, and Thomas Jefferson, in America’s first century said–and believed—"History is Bunk!!!"
Jefferson wrote that the slavish conf conformity to laws and constitutions more than 20 years old, should be wiped clean—that former generations had no moral "hold" on "this" one (or any subsequent one.
I muse on this, and invite the thoughtful to join me in the musing, because we have arrived at the time when even Jefferson’s idea of generational revolution has been compacted by guileful propaganda and astute demagogy (that LOOKS better than demagoguery!!) into any chosen election cycle.
Everything that was considered GOOD between 1192 and 2000 is now denigrated and shunned by those who promoted the same schemes before.
Removing Milosevic and bombing Serbs was great "nationbuilding".
Removing Hussein and bombing Iraquis is criminal.
Reforming welfare was truly a miracle.
Reforming trial lawyer welfare is abominable.
I’ll just let you find the other examples. There are many.
But the point is that we are going off the cliff and down the rabbit’s hole unless a sudden fit of Sanity takes hold.
Take for instance the fact that airport security is under a rule that it is illegal to "profile" young, Arab or Muslim or "middle-eastern-looking" men to be strip searched.
Congressman John Dingell with a screw and plate in his leg—YES! Get him NEKKID!
General Joe Foss, carrying a "curious object" (The Medal of Honor for most air combat kills in history). Strip him nekkid!!!
But HANDS OFF our brothers Ahmed, Feisal, Hassan, Yassim, Khalid, Sheik, or Sudana!!!
Snatch that ole deaf lady in the wheelchair!
Please, O God of My Understanding, take me back to my brierpatch and deliver me from ZooZooland......
Before that, the Great Depression, FDR and World War II (implicit in which was the advent of the Nuclear Bomb / Age).
But, JFK’s commitment of the American Military to Viet Nam, his subsequent assassination by a communist dupe / Castro sympathizer and the first resignation of a president of the United States (Nixon) have been most influential in changing the way Americans see themselves and the world.
I maintain that we are still, whether the pundits and pols like it or not, instinctively isolationist, and extremely vulnerable to whatever propagandist or drmagog can manipulate this deep, George Washington-based national suspicion.
This isolationism is ironically overlaid by a desire by Americans for the rest of the world to admire us.
"Look! But don’t Touch!"
Two Great Americans, Henry Ford in this century, and Thomas Jefferson, in America’s first century said–and believed—"History is Bunk!!!"
Jefferson wrote that the slavish conf conformity to laws and constitutions more than 20 years old, should be wiped clean—that former generations had no moral "hold" on "this" one (or any subsequent one.
I muse on this, and invite the thoughtful to join me in the musing, because we have arrived at the time when even Jefferson’s idea of generational revolution has been compacted by guileful propaganda and astute demagogy (that LOOKS better than demagoguery!!) into any chosen election cycle.
Everything that was considered GOOD between 1192 and 2000 is now denigrated and shunned by those who promoted the same schemes before.
Removing Milosevic and bombing Serbs was great "nationbuilding".
Removing Hussein and bombing Iraquis is criminal.
Reforming welfare was truly a miracle.
Reforming trial lawyer welfare is abominable.
I’ll just let you find the other examples. There are many.
But the point is that we are going off the cliff and down the rabbit’s hole unless a sudden fit of Sanity takes hold.
Take for instance the fact that airport security is under a rule that it is illegal to "profile" young, Arab or Muslim or "middle-eastern-looking" men to be strip searched.
Congressman John Dingell with a screw and plate in his leg—YES! Get him NEKKID!
General Joe Foss, carrying a "curious object" (The Medal of Honor for most air combat kills in history). Strip him nekkid!!!
But HANDS OFF our brothers Ahmed, Feisal, Hassan, Yassim, Khalid, Sheik, or Sudana!!!
Snatch that ole deaf lady in the wheelchair!
Please, O God of My Understanding, take me back to my brierpatch and deliver me from ZooZooland......
Friday, July 23, 2004
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Not As Long Asd I Breathe..
John Criswell, my longsuffering firstflight Friend messaged me that my Favotite Prairie Dweller had "passed away". He was Ken MacLean, of Gainsborough, Saskatchewan, formerly of Poverty Plains near Broomhill, Manitoba.
He was old, like me. I'd know him for fifty years. He came to Jekyll Island and visited me. I saw him for a month every summer for 30 years, watching bird dog field trials.
He'll never be "dead" as long as I breathe.
He was my first, and always my best Canadian friend.I met him on a blustery day when the bluestem was parallel with the greasy prairie road.
Within an hour, he was teaching me Scot songs and we were trying to outquote one another from wee Robby Burns.He had no enemy.
He overbecame himself with Love and Generosity and Loyalty and grace of character.
No better horseman ever lived and few knew pointing dogs as he did.
He saw Ches Harris, and probably as well as Jake Bishop; Farrior Pere and son; All the Gates men, Red Weddle, the Lunsford and Smith generations.
He knew.
I can hear his sweet tenor voice drifting in the pelting hailstorm as we hid the nags under a haystack from the heavens' grapeshot--teaching me the words to "Tangle o'er th' Isles:
"If ye iver falter or ye weaken in yer step, then ye niver smelt th' Tangle o'er th' Isles..."
I wish I knew who wrote this Farewell. I heard / saw the great Harold Gould recite it in a motion picture about Old Dying Folks who loved one another and ran away to the Head of the Yellowstone to die:
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there!
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunrise on ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you are waking to the morning's hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the star-filled silver night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry....
I am not there.
I did not "die"!
He was old, like me. I'd know him for fifty years. He came to Jekyll Island and visited me. I saw him for a month every summer for 30 years, watching bird dog field trials.
He'll never be "dead" as long as I breathe.
He was my first, and always my best Canadian friend.I met him on a blustery day when the bluestem was parallel with the greasy prairie road.
Within an hour, he was teaching me Scot songs and we were trying to outquote one another from wee Robby Burns.He had no enemy.
He overbecame himself with Love and Generosity and Loyalty and grace of character.
No better horseman ever lived and few knew pointing dogs as he did.
He saw Ches Harris, and probably as well as Jake Bishop; Farrior Pere and son; All the Gates men, Red Weddle, the Lunsford and Smith generations.
He knew.
I can hear his sweet tenor voice drifting in the pelting hailstorm as we hid the nags under a haystack from the heavens' grapeshot--teaching me the words to "Tangle o'er th' Isles:
"If ye iver falter or ye weaken in yer step, then ye niver smelt th' Tangle o'er th' Isles..."
I wish I knew who wrote this Farewell. I heard / saw the great Harold Gould recite it in a motion picture about Old Dying Folks who loved one another and ran away to the Head of the Yellowstone to die:
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there!
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunrise on ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you are waking to the morning's hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the star-filled silver night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry....
I am not there.
I did not "die"!
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Blind Man's Blog
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Always intended to keep a jornal, but I might have, as my Brit friends say, "left it a bit late, eh?"
At any rate, its July 20, 2004, and what I plan to do is push my choices in literature, music, and personal development for victims of the government schools who do noy know what the letters L O G I C spell or mean, or just who Aristotle was.
Or who George Santayana was.
Since I have been belaboring many old friends with emails generated by persons other than myself,, yhe BLOG template will give me a chance to reach them at THEIR convenience.
It is really nice to think about only those who really WISH to attend the words so doing.
At the worst, I won't be damned and deleted as SPAM any more. At the best possible event, some youngster my be properly enthralled with things not offered in his/her sphere heretofore.
And that is the end of the first post at Cato's Depot.
Always intended to keep a jornal, but I might have, as my Brit friends say, "left it a bit late, eh?"
At any rate, its July 20, 2004, and what I plan to do is push my choices in literature, music, and personal development for victims of the government schools who do noy know what the letters L O G I C spell or mean, or just who Aristotle was.
Or who George Santayana was.
Since I have been belaboring many old friends with emails generated by persons other than myself,, yhe BLOG template will give me a chance to reach them at THEIR convenience.
It is really nice to think about only those who really WISH to attend the words so doing.
At the worst, I won't be damned and deleted as SPAM any more. At the best possible event, some youngster my be properly enthralled with things not offered in his/her sphere heretofore.
And that is the end of the first post at Cato's Depot.
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