Paperweight
When the stones arise from their long ages
And red eyed photographs,
faded evidence of transience,
Some lives only trace,
shuffled in the envelopes
Of memory, weighted by the stones of childhood,
And settled upon by dust on days of dust;
You will recall we have spoken before.
If you read this poem, if this ink remains
and if the picture still bears a face
Friday, January 30, 2004
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Scientific theories are based on evidence and observation. Science excludes from consideration that which cannot be measured, observed or known. Every scientific theory is subject to revision. Even the best theory is only good until a new set of facts proves it inadequate, and then it must be supplanted by another theory.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
weed killer
for the children of the light
'Twixt the hurting and the hurt, falls the great
Divide. The child in the chalk circle
There is poison in everything. You say
The weed at the heart of the world
Spreads a shadow over all of us.
And you pluck me out, Your eyes both burning.
Am I not as sweet as the fruit you seek?
This chemical atomizes evil.
My Father's brand. For Light application.
I call out the Unpronounceable Name.
We each hasten our own Apocalypse.
Loving every minute of our dying.
There is no reason not to say this;
Both ears listen for the sound of justice.
ive posted this before
for the children of the light
'Twixt the hurting and the hurt, falls the great
Divide. The child in the chalk circle
There is poison in everything. You say
The weed at the heart of the world
Spreads a shadow over all of us.
And you pluck me out, Your eyes both burning.
Am I not as sweet as the fruit you seek?
This chemical atomizes evil.
My Father's brand. For Light application.
I call out the Unpronounceable Name.
We each hasten our own Apocalypse.
Loving every minute of our dying.
There is no reason not to say this;
Both ears listen for the sound of justice.
ive posted this before
Clinton's Gift to Internet Age - Only 2 E-Mails
The archives of the Bill Clinton presidential library will contain 39,999,998 e-mails by the former president's staff and two by the man himself.
The archives of the Bill Clinton presidential library will contain 39,999,998 e-mails by the former president's staff and two by the man himself.
Monday, January 26, 2004
http://www.moveon.org/cbs/ad/
You might want to send a little note to CBS, encourage them to air the ad they censored from the Super Bowl, Or just tell them what you think of their programing. Hey, It's like politcally motivated spam!
You might want to send a little note to CBS, encourage them to air the ad they censored from the Super Bowl, Or just tell them what you think of their programing. Hey, It's like politcally motivated spam!
Saturday, January 24, 2004
Monkeys Invade Indian Embassy in Nepal
Updated: Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2004 - 9:18 AM
We should give those monkeys a call
Updated: Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2004 - 9:18 AM
We should give those monkeys a call
Marijuana smoke would be a much more effective crowd control agent than tear gas. How much civil unrest might we be able to avoid if our police fired canisters of pot smoke at disorderly mobs? What police officer would fare worse with a giant Blunt in place of pepper spray? Think of how good that would be for police/community relations all over America.
---from Matthew Sheahan at Get Underground.
Seems like that's been done.
at it again
Haitian protesters call for the ouster of President Aristide in Fort Lauderdale
When Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide was ousted in a 1991 coup d'etat, South Florida's Haitians hit the streets, calling on the U.S. government to return the former priest to power
"The same way [President] Clinton took [Aristide] back, we believe [President] Bush should step in and do what's necessary."
The president has spoken out calling for cessation of the riots.
He still has two years of a five year term since he was reelected in 2000.
We might presume that Aristde's election was no more valid than President Bush's but i don't think we should riot over it.
Things in the U.S. turned ugly shortly after his appointment by the Supreme Court. Riots were oganized during the recount process in order to prevent the election of Al Gore, who might have made a good president.
So, should we intervene? So far the nonsense (and killing) in Iraq has overshadowed most of what is happening in Central America and the Carribean. Afganistan seems forgotten as well.
I tend to worry more about chaos close to home.
Haitian protesters call for the ouster of President Aristide in Fort Lauderdale
When Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide was ousted in a 1991 coup d'etat, South Florida's Haitians hit the streets, calling on the U.S. government to return the former priest to power
"The same way [President] Clinton took [Aristide] back, we believe [President] Bush should step in and do what's necessary."
The president has spoken out calling for cessation of the riots.
He still has two years of a five year term since he was reelected in 2000.
We might presume that Aristde's election was no more valid than President Bush's but i don't think we should riot over it.
Things in the U.S. turned ugly shortly after his appointment by the Supreme Court. Riots were oganized during the recount process in order to prevent the election of Al Gore, who might have made a good president.
So, should we intervene? So far the nonsense (and killing) in Iraq has overshadowed most of what is happening in Central America and the Carribean. Afganistan seems forgotten as well.
I tend to worry more about chaos close to home.
Friday, January 23, 2004
smoking pun
Sorry but i have to tell you how i quit. I turned forty two years ago and thought that quitting would be a nice present to give myself. my birthday falls on September sixth. Five days later i was sitting in the back room smoking, when my mom called me out to turn on the TV. "something awful happened," she said, still on the phone. But that was not enough. i still had one after working in the studio that night, and before... The thing that got me was that Jerry Seinfeld made a tasteless joke. He was on some show with Billy Crystal and they were starting up this comedy concert to raise money for the firemen's families, and the talk show guy asked about his reaction to the attack. Seinfeld said, "Oh, I couldn't believe it, I thought it was one of those anti-smoking ads and I was thinking boy These People are Serious!"
Sorry but i have to tell you how i quit. I turned forty two years ago and thought that quitting would be a nice present to give myself. my birthday falls on September sixth. Five days later i was sitting in the back room smoking, when my mom called me out to turn on the TV. "something awful happened," she said, still on the phone. But that was not enough. i still had one after working in the studio that night, and before... The thing that got me was that Jerry Seinfeld made a tasteless joke. He was on some show with Billy Crystal and they were starting up this comedy concert to raise money for the firemen's families, and the talk show guy asked about his reaction to the attack. Seinfeld said, "Oh, I couldn't believe it, I thought it was one of those anti-smoking ads and I was thinking boy These People are Serious!"
Thursday, January 22, 2004
Here is a paper, by David Huffaker, on story telling as part of learning and childhood development with a focus on Internet technology. I only skimmed it but it makes good sense, Ive seen examples of most of the things he talks about. I found it on Smart Mobs
always merry and bright
A friend of mine just learned that she had breast cancer. Or she just told me. I should have known. She started drinking again. Casting her hard won sobriety away in exchange for the camaraderie of warm lite beer in a parked car. She wanted to become a jeweler. But the real jewel is her self; the generosity of her smile, her quick fingers making hibiscus flowers out of gold and silver, the way she loves to feed people, or paints the beaches of Florida on boring wooden furniture.
I worked with her one new years eve. We painted faces for St Petersburg's "First Night festival (which for some reason they hold on the Last night of the year.) I've never painted faces before and she has her own set of unique designs. Unicorns and flowers. Same stuff she's done for tourists since the seventies. We got a little drunk while she showed me the tricks and let me practice on her face. Then there was the onslaught of children, lined up with their parents. Thank God they mostly wanted "fireworks," a few strokes of color and a dash of glitter. I did "Go Bucs" on a few eleven year olds. We worked back to back sharing the same table of paint, mixing paint in our left hand and brushing with the right.
an endless stream of children.
We never talked about her son Tommy, I don't know what became of him. We know he's still alive because they haven't retired his social security number. She just cleaned out the house where he grew up, now boarded up and decayed in a bad part of town. Some one bought it. They will tear it down, and rebuild when the property value goes up. There was a Winnie the Pooh pillow case, and a couple of broken plastic toys. She left them there. A meaningless clutter for some new owner, but a burden of pain and loss for my friend.
We kissed that night first kiss I've had in many years. Her husband was an abusive nasty drunk that night. He called her many names, but not her name. We went outside and sat in the freezing car, kept each other warm and kissed. Innocent genuine love. Then our human bodies awoke, unthawed and so embarrassed that we rushed over to my friends house. He was so depressed that he slept through new years eve. We chattered like children while he grumbled like a bear and tried not to be amused and then I took her home. The next day, she went over to his house with a big pot of blackeye peas.
Tonight I hope we will cast some silver. She has some gold too. A commission that was meant to be a Christmas present. We were working on it right up until Christmas eve when they closed the studio.
I want everything to turn out well for her.
I worked with her one new years eve. We painted faces for St Petersburg's "First Night festival (which for some reason they hold on the Last night of the year.) I've never painted faces before and she has her own set of unique designs. Unicorns and flowers. Same stuff she's done for tourists since the seventies. We got a little drunk while she showed me the tricks and let me practice on her face. Then there was the onslaught of children, lined up with their parents. Thank God they mostly wanted "fireworks," a few strokes of color and a dash of glitter. I did "Go Bucs" on a few eleven year olds. We worked back to back sharing the same table of paint, mixing paint in our left hand and brushing with the right.
an endless stream of children.
We never talked about her son Tommy, I don't know what became of him. We know he's still alive because they haven't retired his social security number. She just cleaned out the house where he grew up, now boarded up and decayed in a bad part of town. Some one bought it. They will tear it down, and rebuild when the property value goes up. There was a Winnie the Pooh pillow case, and a couple of broken plastic toys. She left them there. A meaningless clutter for some new owner, but a burden of pain and loss for my friend.
We kissed that night first kiss I've had in many years. Her husband was an abusive nasty drunk that night. He called her many names, but not her name. We went outside and sat in the freezing car, kept each other warm and kissed. Innocent genuine love. Then our human bodies awoke, unthawed and so embarrassed that we rushed over to my friends house. He was so depressed that he slept through new years eve. We chattered like children while he grumbled like a bear and tried not to be amused and then I took her home. The next day, she went over to his house with a big pot of blackeye peas.
Tonight I hope we will cast some silver. She has some gold too. A commission that was meant to be a Christmas present. We were working on it right up until Christmas eve when they closed the studio.
I want everything to turn out well for her.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Colin Mackay
and my weaker half cried to you, Svetlana
shield me, shield me
between your serene breasts
with the calm of your woman's strength,
with the calm of your river
and your village, its ancient hearth
when day explodes around us
in all the plains of the sun.
------------
In the burnt-out cafe
stray pigs from a nearby farm feed
on Ivan the chef and his two pretty waitresses.
Somewhere
the thud of mortars
somewhere the splatter of shots,
the screaming of an incoming shell,
but beyond the blackened hole
where the window used to be
under the still-functioning Coca-Cola sign
the pigs feed on.
------------
the office will be having its coffee break
about now and the Number 27 bus
will be halfway up Dundas Street
and no one will believe that
any of these things are happening
in the same world as the office
and the 27 bus.
--from Cold Night Lullaby
ISBN 0-906772-86-9
Literacy?s flaws are many and obvious: Reading can be boring, suggest ideas about how to destroy things, and give voice to people who shouldn?t have one.. .
Next thing you know, people will start writing!
Happiness
John had
Great Big
Waterproof
Boots on;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Hat;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Mackintosh --
And that
(Said John)
Is
That.
--A.A. Milne
John had
Great Big
Waterproof
Boots on;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Hat;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Mackintosh --
And that
(Said John)
Is
That.
--A.A. Milne
"Out, Out"
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside them in her apron
To tell them 'Supper'. At the word, the saw,
As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap--
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
The boy's first outcry was a rueful laugh.
As he swung toward them holding up the hand
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all--
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart--
He saw all spoiled. 'Don't let him cut my hand off
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!'
So. But the hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then -- the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listened at his heart.
Little -- less -- nothing! -- and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
- Robert Frost
The buzz-saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behind the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside them in her apron
To tell them 'Supper'. At the word, the saw,
As if to prove saws knew what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap--
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
The boy's first outcry was a rueful laugh.
As he swung toward them holding up the hand
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all--
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart--
He saw all spoiled. 'Don't let him cut my hand off
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!'
So. But the hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then -- the watcher at his pulse took fright.
No one believed. They listened at his heart.
Little -- less -- nothing! -- and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
- Robert Frost
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Tears in Sleep
Louise Bogan
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day,
And I, in the cage of sleep, on a stranger's breast,
Shed tears, like a task not to be put away---
In the false light, false grief in my happy bed,
A labor of tears, set against joy's undoing.
I would not wake at your word, I had tears to say.
I clung to the bars of the dream and they were said,
And pain's derisive hand had given me rest
From the night giving off flames, and the dark renewing
Louise Bogan
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All night the cocks crew, under a moon like day,
And I, in the cage of sleep, on a stranger's breast,
Shed tears, like a task not to be put away---
In the false light, false grief in my happy bed,
A labor of tears, set against joy's undoing.
I would not wake at your word, I had tears to say.
I clung to the bars of the dream and they were said,
And pain's derisive hand had given me rest
From the night giving off flames, and the dark renewing
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Back in October, I suggested that i would enter three or four Items in the Art Centers Holiday show. A painting some silver bracelets... Actually only one bracelet made it in. I'm still working on a choker and a cast metal pendant. Earlier in the summer Anna Sauer suggested that i put some of my other work in since she had inquiries about things shown in the Anita London case. I reduced the prices in July to make them more saleable. 103 dollars each. The bracelet that was submited for the members show was priced at 385 Just before Christmas I was informed that two pieces had sold. from the original consignment. I was told that checks would be issued in mid January. Today I recieved acheck for 56.65 as payment for one piece shown in the holiday exhibition. The commission is supposed to be 65/35 did they deduct sales tax? change the commision? charge what they thought it was worth.? What a ripoff! Ive spent more than that in studio fees and membership dues alone. not to mention gas money.
Now the Center has a beautiful glass show to coincide with the Chihuly exhibit at the Fine Art Museum, and an ongoing series of master workshops called Hot Glass
Now the Center has a beautiful glass show to coincide with the Chihuly exhibit at the Fine Art Museum, and an ongoing series of master workshops called Hot Glass
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Historical Background of Scalar EM Weapons
by Lt. Col. T.E. Bearden (retd.), 1990
Copyright
Colonel Bearden is a nuclear engineer, wargames analyst, and military tactician with over 26 years experience in air defense systems, tactics and operations, technical intelligence, antiradiation missile countermeasures, nuclear weapons employment, computerized wargames and military systems requirements.
by Lt. Col. T.E. Bearden (retd.), 1990
Copyright
Colonel Bearden is a nuclear engineer, wargames analyst, and military tactician with over 26 years experience in air defense systems, tactics and operations, technical intelligence, antiradiation missile countermeasures, nuclear weapons employment, computerized wargames and military systems requirements.
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
It's weird out there in the world. never knowing if somone might just hate you for who you are. cross the street because they saw you coming. my uncle warned me that this blog might get me in trouble. That people might hunt me down, hurt me or use thge information against me. i haven't got much to loose. except my religion.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
Saturday, January 10, 2004
Friday, January 09, 2004
The few people I know who "quickly opened their hearts," were Adopted abused or fostered.
Buddha says we all are. Suffering is not separate from enlightenment, perfection or cruelty.
But i'm none of those things.
I thank you for recalling the Image that Eleanor Steeber made of the two sweaty kids with a stick and a ball in her back yard. She tried to teach us both to sing. but Mom wanted results.
I will never take the blame as your abuser. I loved you as a person and struuck out at you in childish ways I had good teachers.
The conditions of our childhood...
Cannot be laid to rest with kind words about seeking 'good Love,' nor is there a magic ring or a broken sword we can find to fix it all.
Mom manipulated Dad for years.
Jose Acuna used you, slandered me and stole Furniture ( i was a witness, I was blamed) Deidre suffocated an infant. Masha was tricked into relinquishing me.
I can learn from all of this and i can grow.
Love is a hard thing because we all die.
But you omitted a name from Father's obituary,
If you think anything nice you say makes you Like Plath;
take then, your knowledge and wisdom and slouch on to Bethlehem.
If you do not want to answer legal questions tell me the to whom i might write.
I don't have a year book.
--
Thursday, January 08, 2004
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
I think that L and J are having a good time. they rented at the Seabreeze in Gulfport A Bed and Breakfast that I recomend if you visit the area. on the other hand dont eat at the Back Fin Blue Cafe (2913 Beach Blvd. South
Gulfport, FL 33707) rude waiters, bugs in the drinks. they treat locals like dirt and think money has a new york accent. wealthy southerners dont count. "We're \out of the shrimp, maybe you'd be more comfortable with something in you price range, like meat loaf." I will never eat there again. When I was Waiter I took care of people. I understand the food is good though. I' recomend .El Cap. for quality value and history it cant be beat
Gulfport, FL 33707) rude waiters, bugs in the drinks. they treat locals like dirt and think money has a new york accent. wealthy southerners dont count. "We're \out of the shrimp, maybe you'd be more comfortable with something in you price range, like meat loaf." I will never eat there again. When I was Waiter I took care of people. I understand the food is good though. I' recomend .El Cap. for quality value and history it cant be beat
Friday, January 02, 2004
Today we await the arrival of Lelani. Old friend of Both my mother and uncle. I have made no special preparation. I have never travelled far from my home. I grew up an adopted child. Reunited with my natural mother after in '84, two weeks after the birth/death of my son, I have been in shock ever since. My adopted parents rejected me soon after and forbade me to vist with accusations that i'd tried to kill them. My sister followed soon after. After several years of her telling about her new baby and new boy friends she began to accuse me of molesting her and I realized that anything i ever told her went straight to my parents. Finally i stopped calling her after she failled to thank Me for baby gifts that my mom and I bought in Guatemala (beautiful country--beautiful people.)
Finally in 2002 Alice took my father out of the hospital in Tennesse and flew him to Oregon, where he died a day later.
I still obsess over these things.
Lelani and my Uncle were lovers once. But a sudden pregnancy by a woman named Phyllis forced him into an awkward marriage, which ended while he was overseas in Afganistan. Phyllis put the child up for adoption--- and he was raised by her parents as a sibling.
I was raised by a different familly, but I share many characteristics with My Biological relatives. Perry shares few. I see him as a cousin but I see him rarely.
Lelani and James have many sorrows in their lives. But I admire the connection they have. Masha also is there, holding together the threads of their past.
She and her brother have been working on the Afgan Diaries. I hope Lelani will help while she is here.
I found a record Denny would likeEva Cassidy
he grew up in P.G. and shares some of the same love for simplicity and nature.
I wish you all a happy new year.
Finally in 2002 Alice took my father out of the hospital in Tennesse and flew him to Oregon, where he died a day later.
I still obsess over these things.
Lelani and my Uncle were lovers once. But a sudden pregnancy by a woman named Phyllis forced him into an awkward marriage, which ended while he was overseas in Afganistan. Phyllis put the child up for adoption--- and he was raised by her parents as a sibling.
I was raised by a different familly, but I share many characteristics with My Biological relatives. Perry shares few. I see him as a cousin but I see him rarely.
Lelani and James have many sorrows in their lives. But I admire the connection they have. Masha also is there, holding together the threads of their past.
She and her brother have been working on the Afgan Diaries. I hope Lelani will help while she is here.
I found a record Denny would likeEva Cassidy
he grew up in P.G. and shares some of the same love for simplicity and nature.
I wish you all a happy new year.
Thursday, January 01, 2004
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