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Sunday, August 20, 2017

total eclipse

total eclipse

fiction
edward w pritchard

A site of great pilgrimage the Serpent Mound in Peebles Ohio is a great place to view the total eclipse of the sun or the moon at anytime. An Effigy shrine built basket by basket with soil, sod and stones by stooped shouldered women, and children Adena Indians on the pre-historic site of a millions of year old sacred meteor strike which split the earth to the womb in times before humans could speak or walk upright; the serpent mound provides a small elevation to the viewing subject that enhances the visual viewing of a total solar eclipse of the sun.


Protective viewing glasses will be provided by local Ohio park rangers On august 21 for viewing of total eclipse of the sun.



Tuesday, August 8, 2017

routes and paths

routes and paths

fiction
edward w pritchard

Everyone is taking a different route or paths but eventually they all end up in the same place. I didn't know where I was going until recently but it doesn't make it any easier to get there.

There's no map or program and no recently developed technology by google will be of any help. If you ask questions or directions along the way it just confuses things. Even someone who is absolutely double dog sure of the ultimate destination is just sorta fooling themselves. Too bad they don't finish your trip in the end anyway. At the end of your road there is no one to reach for.

Recently I stopped looking for pacer gold mines placed into river beds by volcanoes a  few hundred million years ago. I came to find they are always somewhere else. Fame and fortune disappeared with haley's comet in 1910 the night mark twain died. Destiny had manifested itself and all the mines were played out.

I live in a ghost town now in one of the empty houses. Sometimes I can hear the echos in the middle of the night of the drunken ambitious young men who came west by boat or burro looking for riches and ready to stake their claim.

Mornings very early I am up with the sunrise because some times I walk around with my grandson.We teach each other things. I doubt he sees the ghost town yet. I sure won't tell him. A few days ago we saw a hawk take a fish from the lake. Later this week we are going to tie a rope  to a tree on a hill and pull our way towards the crest. Just for practice.

It's bad luck to write your own epitaph.

Here's what I wrote before:

buried on boot hill with no marker

buried on boot hill with no marker

fiction
Edward w Pritchard


For over a century I felt a certain distinction to be buried on boot hill with no marker. Eventually however my lack of respectability and status began to gnaw at me and I began to contemplate how to remedy my situation by changing how I would face the rest of my time in eternity.
I've decided  to become a tourist attraction. Now that I know what I want it shouldn't be so hard to accomplish my goals.

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

unless one is lucky enough to be killed in one of those epic battles that typify the national identity life is not a team sport

unless one is lucky enough to be killed in one of those epic battles that typify the national identity life is not a team sport

fiction
edward w pritchard

Unless one is lucky enough to be killed in one of those epic battles that typify the national identity life is not a team sport.

Things change. Your old pal the baby who used to sit quietly respectfully silent waiting while you competed a few business matters before you and he tossed the baseball now has to work to pay for the new second car and can't fish, walk along the railway tracks, or sit by the campfire these days.

The plot of life now is secondary to philosophical introspection. Teams are redundant, life is solitary.

Things change.


Thursday, July 6, 2017

all the people had to stand in public line

all the people had to stand in public line

fiction
edward w pritchard

Recently I went to an out-clinic of one of the large local hospital chains for my annual blood work for an upcoming Doctor's visit. A merger had occurred corporately with the hospital network so it was necessary to update my records for government supervision of my person which included being electronically fingerprinted for future identification purposes. Going forward both the hospital and government of Ohio shall know that it is in fact me who is fifteen pounds overweight and will have a chance to check my background conduct each time I visit that Hospital should they wish to monitor my conduct for any reason. Hopefully monitoring will be limited to health behaviors only.

That clinic was very busy so I had to take a number electronically at a computer station before I could sit before the technician who performed the finger print scan. After I had to wait with the rest of the patients a while in the lobby to have the actual blood work drawn in the locked medical area. That day at the hospital clinic all the people had to stand in public line only for a few minutes to have their lab work done.

I always feel like Winston Smith from George Orwell's novel " 1984" when I visit the hospital or it's satellites and it's the same with the Government and it's satellites. At the same time, even though I am being monitored,  I often find myself humming BB King's " Why I sing the blues" when I have to join " all the people, all the people [ who ] have to stand in public line.

slow time has silenced me

slow time has silenced me

fiction
edward w pritchard

Slow time has silenced me. So I have taken to looking for my-self.

First I discovered and acknowledged the other. That was long before I could properly talk. Then Love and betrayal. Ho, hum. And impending Death. Slow, slow time again.

Everything else is just a background hum of the gears quietly turning starting with the dawn.

Look up, look down where is me-self. Categorically missing somewhere in the recesses of my brain.

Thursday, June 22, 2017

the paranoia caused by the insidious system of capitalism

the paranoia caused by the insidious system of capitalism

fiction
edward w pritchard


One day realization strikes that the paranoia caused by the insidious system of capitalism is real, not a figment of the imagination, but an actual everyday structural vast edifice that treats each and everyone thing and stone as a means to an end. Something to be discarded, something to be depreciated until obsolete and defunct.

Slowly perhaps others enmeshed in the system may see the light. Understanding that what is happening to them is systemic and universal is the first step in untangling the net that entraps us all.

It's the system, it's the system. See the light.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

the department of named disturbances

the department of named disturbances

fiction
edward w pritchard


In this story set sometime in the near future an ordinary  human subject is being interviewed by a bureaucratic machine psychologist at the VA  hospital. It is just another day for Doctor, Ghe 884, Ghe being a title of honor usually a-titled as address when speaking to an artificial intelligence machine class seven or higher at time of the incident discussed below.

Human subject- " I like early mornings, before it is fully dawned, when awoken by the cool winds from an open window with a reddish hued light before a pending storm. At such time it seems that nothing can harm me, nothing will happen and for a moment when the wind stops completely just before the storm breaks with a fury I feel alive."

Ghe 884- and at other times

human subject- not listening and far away- " one lone bird will be chirping with modulating voice talking to the storm about to strike" " suddenly and without warning a cracking will occur, and to my ear a movement will be detected, it is a falling large heavy branch from a distant tree dropping and crashes and instantly I will know the bird was predestined to have his perch destroyed by the ancient deity known here locally as Wind".

doctor Ghe 884- well that's about it for today, thank you for meeting with me here in the department of named disturbances, wing four department 7A Ohio district.