Some Sensations Are Genetic
Fiction
Edward W Pritchard
The woman woke to the feel of delicate cat paws high up on her back, just below the shoulder blades. It was a large cat, not a tiger or panther, but midsized, like a lynx or bob cat and she felt the sensation of the instant before the weight of the springing cat caused her to fall forward and stumble or fall. The paws also had claws, sharp and potentially lethal but not extended yet and for now not drawn. The woman tensed her back as she roused from sleep expecting something further to happen.
As she had done every early morning for several days, when the sensation occurred, she quickly rolled on to her side and the impression of the cat paws went away. She again thought, now calmly, that she had experienced a distant memory of herself being killed by an animal. Each morning for several days she had had this same eerie experience, of waking to the first touch of a pouncing cat striking mid-way up her back with it's first exploratory touch, before digging into her vital organs beneath her skin.
Her boyfriend had suggested more sleep when she discussed her problem with him, which she had tried the last two nights but the exact same sensation had continued and later this morning she was skipping work, and going to see her Family doctor about it. Her Doctor was man of common sense and she felt better knowing she would be talking with him about the disturbance.
About a month later the woman was going to see a psychiatrist about the problem with the cat paws. Every morning since the first meeting with her Doctor she had had the same awaking experience. She had seen her Doctor three times and had also taken several tests at an out patient laboratory, including an MRI. Yesterday just a few hours before her fourth 11:00 AM meeting with her Family doctor, his office, had called her and canceled the appointment and told her to report to another Doctor, today at 10:00 AM a woman psychiatrist from China who also was a surgeon.
Three weeks and three visits to the psychiatrist later, the psychiatrist had personally called and told the woman that she had
referred her to a neurosurgeon. The Psychiatrist also told her by phone, that she, the psychiatrist, was now having early morning awakenings, and had had them since very late the first night, following the first meeting with her new patient. The lady Psychiatrist every early morning woke to the sensation of herself freezing to death. She had become so disturbed by the feel of freezing that she thought it best if she not see the woman anymore. She also advised the woman that, the family Doctor, who had initially made the referral of the woman, to the psychiatrist, and this was in confidence please, well she continued somewhat nervously, the Family Doctor had began having awaking, again after the first meeting with the woman. The Family Doctor's sensation was of a short thick, roman style sword being plunged into his neck where the neck connected to the shoulder blades. The Family Doctor was not particularly disturbed, the psychiatrist had said, because it reminded him of an account of the death of Julius Caesar in the Senate
he had read as a boy and he, the Family Doctor thought it was a case of mass hysteria of some sort, due to the power of suggestion. The lady psychiatrist was inclined to disagree she had told the woman, because she said she had counseled thousands of client's, and heard many very disturbing stories, but this was the first time she had personally been drawn into someone's delusions. In any event the lady psychiatrist was referring the lady to a colleague who was a neurosurgeon, and a psychiatrist, and was considered an expert in the field psycho-somatic illnesses, having published on the subject.
The Neurosurgeon had called the woman two days after their first meeting. The first night after the consult the neurosurgeon had awoke to himself falling a moderate distance onto a ledge of rocks, He was sure it was a distant memory of a prior death, especially after he had it the second night and had experienced the sensation a full minute before rolling onto his side. He told the Woman that he couldn't see her anymore, not because of his own fears but because of what had happened to his wife, The neurosurgeon had mentioned his first awaking to his wife, after he had woke up very agitated, and the Doctor told his wife briefly about the new woman patient and the connection between their awakenings. This morning, the Doctor's second awakening and the wife's first occurred and the wife had woken to the sensation of herself gasping for air, laying on the ground, and trying to avoid a hot cloud of bad air and gas that was coming toward her. A few hours ago, the Doctors wife had refused to go to her job as a school teacher because she was afraid she would infect her students.
In desperation the initial Woman, with the Cat Paw sensation, had refused to see any more Doctors, and instead went to see the local Parish Priest. She had been raised a Catholic but hadn't attended Mass in a long time. The Priest agreed to see her, after reading a very brief written summary from her of what had happened but agreed to talk to her only in the confessional. He agreed to pray for her and told her for the time being to sleep on her side and not discuss the problem with anyone else. He said he would advise her further in a few days.
end part 1
Sunday, February 28, 2010
John Silver's Last 15 Minutes
John Silver's Last 15 Minutes
fiction
edward w Pritchard
The man entered through the heavy wooden door and pulled it shut against his back with a thump. He moved sideways pressing his back against the wall and scanned the low ceiling ed dark store. The store's owner, his former boss, who had kindly fired him several years before, nodded at him and continued to wait on his only customer. John Silver's continued to press his back firmly against the log wall, stood up on his toes, and tried to slow his racing thoughts.
He worried about the three Indians he had passed crossing the porch on his way into the store. It didn't matter which tribe they were from, Indians never liked him. It didn't matter who he was with Indians never specifically liked him. Didn't like his looks, it was said, because he never smiled. Indians didn't smile much anymore, but they didn't like Silver's for not smiling. His mind raced through it's worries.Why had he never been able to find his place in the world, be like others? He had been a bad farmer, fights with his Father about not being able to get up in the early morning, or late morning either, then the army, no self discipline said his sergeant, no will, said the sergeant's superior. Then the travesty of working in this very store. His uncle had got him the job. Standing around for almost a year, feeling like a mouse in a cage, afraid of the customers, not sure what to do, his mind raced.
Think of something positive, like you were taught, he suggested to himself. He took a deep breathe, remembering how he had got along better with the Indians as a young man, walking throughout xx [Ohio] with John Chapman. John Chapman, the Appleseed man knew how to put on the act with the Indians and everyone else. Put a pan on your head before you enter a village or town. Walk and walk, 60 miles a day. It was the happiest two years of his life. the walking was very good for him, it calmed him, it relieved his burden. Walking and marching in the Army both worked for that and regulated his sleep which made the days better. After the walks with Chapman, and the good karma it had generated there had been a few women friends and then a wife, for while, then at last, she wasn't here either.
He continued the breathing, relax the face, still the mind, if he could.
He hadn't followed the normal progress of things, bad luck, or no follow-through, find something to do when young, make it the thing to do, the right thing , and then stick with it, nurture it, and someday reap a harvest, like neighbors, people in books, and others. So he was alone, with no prospects, obsolete, and now he was standing in the store with his back firmly pressed against the heavy log door.
Relax, breathe, your not out of place, this is just where you are now, he thought.
He did begin to relax, clear his mind, and wondered rationally why had you come into the store. He thought calmly. There was always clarity and acceptance in buying something, things, buying things made you welcome, and accepted and part of it. But he wasn't going to ask for credit and he had no money today.
He walked back out through the heavy wood door, across, the porch, awkwardly smiled at the three brooding young Indians, and then ducked too late as one smashed an old fashioned tomahawk war hammer into the side of his head.
John Silver's was known as the the last white man in the county killed by Indians.
end part 1
Ulysses S Grant and John Silvers
part 2
Future United States President Ulysses S. Grant was working in his brother's store in Illinois and making a mess of things. He just couldn't fit in and everyone was concerned. Simply put he was a poor excuse for a store clerk. He had previously been a poor excuse for a farmer which why he tried working at the store. He was saved because a terrible configuration started, The American Civil War of 1861. Because Grant could kill and motivate and lead others to kill also, he found his place and became a success. Later, after he finished with the Presidency, he had to rush, and race death, to complete his memoirs, because he was again facing bankruptcy, and so his wife and family would be properly cared for after he died, because Grant was not a thrifty man. Grant's memoirs are notable and Grant is considered a good writer.
See an Ill timed Life- President Grant's Lament
end part 2
part 3
Story continues without proper research or feasible logical connection
President Ulysses S. Grant's grandmother was Rachel Kelly and married Noah Capt Grant in 1792. Noah Grant, Grant's grandfather, who was not a thrifty man [ as was President Grant not a thrifty man]. Rachel Kelly died April 10, 1805 and is buried in Deerfield cemetery. Rachel Kelly is buried near where John Silver's was killed by Indians but it is unknown if there is any connection between Rachel Kelly's life and John Silver's. Then as now Deerfield was and is a very small town however. Silver's is a historical figure of little renown beyond Deerfield but Silver's is a fake name to protect this author from libel and improper historical research.
President Ulysses S. Grant suffered from Migraines most of his life. He was shy person and while serving at Fort Vancover in Washington State drank out of loneliness, for he missed his family terribly. Grant was unsuccessful at everything in his life until the civil war except he was a good family man, devoted to his children, and had the knack and ability to train, and calm horses.
On January 3, 1889, Philosopher Frederick Nietzsche finally suffered a mental collapse a common tale states that Nietzsche witnessed the whipping of a horse at the other end of the Piazza Carlo Alberto, ran to the horse, threw his arms up around its neck to protect the horse, and then collapsed to the ground. It is unknown if there is a connection between President Ulysses S Grant's love of horses and Frederick Nietzche's protection of horses. See "The Man who protected Horses" by edward w pritchard[ January blog] for more information on Nietzsche.
No credible research exists if President Grant ever pressed his back firmly against the wood doors at the white House but it may be interesting to pursue.
The Grant/Nietzsche connection is intriguing. Both had facial hair, Grant beard/Neitzsche mustache, both had a connection to horses, both were good writers, although in fairness Nietzsche is an exceptional one in a million writer, and both are now dead.
end part 3
Part 4
Silver's writes to his old acquaintance
True Blue Odio Colodie
you taught the peasants how to pop corn
although you weren't really a noble.
You took my heart
which started harder than stone.
I shuffled the cards
while we went hand in hand
and sat by your side as babies were born.
Forsaking others, friends, foes, prurient interests
and joined with you at the hip
shut out the dawn.
Acquired things, more than two houses full
and you took me with you as you flew,
soaring together into azure skies.
But your humours eradicated
and you were gone, something else emerged.
Life continues, true blue friends dislocate
and I use my stone cold heart to crack corn for souffles
and teach unbelievers about life's cycles.
While I Try to grow wings myself,
from the hollow space behind my eyes
I write odes to your gentle voice
echoing eons and eternities from where I listen;
a memory that never was.
end
fiction
edward w Pritchard
The man entered through the heavy wooden door and pulled it shut against his back with a thump. He moved sideways pressing his back against the wall and scanned the low ceiling ed dark store. The store's owner, his former boss, who had kindly fired him several years before, nodded at him and continued to wait on his only customer. John Silver's continued to press his back firmly against the log wall, stood up on his toes, and tried to slow his racing thoughts.
He worried about the three Indians he had passed crossing the porch on his way into the store. It didn't matter which tribe they were from, Indians never liked him. It didn't matter who he was with Indians never specifically liked him. Didn't like his looks, it was said, because he never smiled. Indians didn't smile much anymore, but they didn't like Silver's for not smiling. His mind raced through it's worries.Why had he never been able to find his place in the world, be like others? He had been a bad farmer, fights with his Father about not being able to get up in the early morning, or late morning either, then the army, no self discipline said his sergeant, no will, said the sergeant's superior. Then the travesty of working in this very store. His uncle had got him the job. Standing around for almost a year, feeling like a mouse in a cage, afraid of the customers, not sure what to do, his mind raced.
Think of something positive, like you were taught, he suggested to himself. He took a deep breathe, remembering how he had got along better with the Indians as a young man, walking throughout xx [Ohio] with John Chapman. John Chapman, the Appleseed man knew how to put on the act with the Indians and everyone else. Put a pan on your head before you enter a village or town. Walk and walk, 60 miles a day. It was the happiest two years of his life. the walking was very good for him, it calmed him, it relieved his burden. Walking and marching in the Army both worked for that and regulated his sleep which made the days better. After the walks with Chapman, and the good karma it had generated there had been a few women friends and then a wife, for while, then at last, she wasn't here either.
He continued the breathing, relax the face, still the mind, if he could.
He hadn't followed the normal progress of things, bad luck, or no follow-through, find something to do when young, make it the thing to do, the right thing , and then stick with it, nurture it, and someday reap a harvest, like neighbors, people in books, and others. So he was alone, with no prospects, obsolete, and now he was standing in the store with his back firmly pressed against the heavy log door.
Relax, breathe, your not out of place, this is just where you are now, he thought.
He did begin to relax, clear his mind, and wondered rationally why had you come into the store. He thought calmly. There was always clarity and acceptance in buying something, things, buying things made you welcome, and accepted and part of it. But he wasn't going to ask for credit and he had no money today.
He walked back out through the heavy wood door, across, the porch, awkwardly smiled at the three brooding young Indians, and then ducked too late as one smashed an old fashioned tomahawk war hammer into the side of his head.
John Silver's was known as the the last white man in the county killed by Indians.
end part 1
Ulysses S Grant and John Silvers
part 2
Future United States President Ulysses S. Grant was working in his brother's store in Illinois and making a mess of things. He just couldn't fit in and everyone was concerned. Simply put he was a poor excuse for a store clerk. He had previously been a poor excuse for a farmer which why he tried working at the store. He was saved because a terrible configuration started, The American Civil War of 1861. Because Grant could kill and motivate and lead others to kill also, he found his place and became a success. Later, after he finished with the Presidency, he had to rush, and race death, to complete his memoirs, because he was again facing bankruptcy, and so his wife and family would be properly cared for after he died, because Grant was not a thrifty man. Grant's memoirs are notable and Grant is considered a good writer.
See an Ill timed Life- President Grant's Lament
end part 2
part 3
Story continues without proper research or feasible logical connection
President Ulysses S. Grant's grandmother was Rachel Kelly and married Noah Capt Grant in 1792. Noah Grant, Grant's grandfather, who was not a thrifty man [ as was President Grant not a thrifty man]. Rachel Kelly died April 10, 1805 and is buried in Deerfield cemetery. Rachel Kelly is buried near where John Silver's was killed by Indians but it is unknown if there is any connection between Rachel Kelly's life and John Silver's. Then as now Deerfield was and is a very small town however. Silver's is a historical figure of little renown beyond Deerfield but Silver's is a fake name to protect this author from libel and improper historical research.
President Ulysses S. Grant suffered from Migraines most of his life. He was shy person and while serving at Fort Vancover in Washington State drank out of loneliness, for he missed his family terribly. Grant was unsuccessful at everything in his life until the civil war except he was a good family man, devoted to his children, and had the knack and ability to train, and calm horses.
On January 3, 1889, Philosopher Frederick Nietzsche finally suffered a mental collapse a common tale states that Nietzsche witnessed the whipping of a horse at the other end of the Piazza Carlo Alberto, ran to the horse, threw his arms up around its neck to protect the horse, and then collapsed to the ground. It is unknown if there is a connection between President Ulysses S Grant's love of horses and Frederick Nietzche's protection of horses. See "The Man who protected Horses" by edward w pritchard[ January blog] for more information on Nietzsche.
No credible research exists if President Grant ever pressed his back firmly against the wood doors at the white House but it may be interesting to pursue.
The Grant/Nietzsche connection is intriguing. Both had facial hair, Grant beard/Neitzsche mustache, both had a connection to horses, both were good writers, although in fairness Nietzsche is an exceptional one in a million writer, and both are now dead.
end part 3
Part 4
Silver's writes to his old acquaintance
True Blue Odio Colodie
you taught the peasants how to pop corn
although you weren't really a noble.
You took my heart
which started harder than stone.
I shuffled the cards
while we went hand in hand
and sat by your side as babies were born.
Forsaking others, friends, foes, prurient interests
and joined with you at the hip
shut out the dawn.
Acquired things, more than two houses full
and you took me with you as you flew,
soaring together into azure skies.
But your humours eradicated
and you were gone, something else emerged.
Life continues, true blue friends dislocate
and I use my stone cold heart to crack corn for souffles
and teach unbelievers about life's cycles.
While I Try to grow wings myself,
from the hollow space behind my eyes
I write odes to your gentle voice
echoing eons and eternities from where I listen;
a memory that never was.
end
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Jesus the Most Dangerous Man in History
Jesus the Most Dangerous Man in History
fiction
edward w pritchard
Being near Jesus was dangerous and lethal to one's past affiliations. When Jesus lead us to a new town, women would often take their families and go into the hills for up to a week to keep husband's and children from his jeopardous influence. In time an element of peril surrounded us, Jesus' followers, for just being near him. Later we were the one's staying in the hills, and places obscure and hidden, for we were forbidden to enter towns, business areas and churches. However despite incredible hardships we were blissfully happy and even obscurity could not stifle Jesus' message which convulsed to be revealed.
Jesus presence had became mesmerizing. When we heard the message of profound truth he taught we only wanted to be near him, abolish our sinful ways and full fill and experience the destiny he promised us. More than one who met him or even heard of him would abandon a faithful wife, or son and daughter, or Father and Mother in hope of following him about or just doing one deed or small kindness to make his life easier, if only for a moment.
I traveled with Jesus for several years before he recruited the disciples but was forced to leave the group because I was a link to his past, a past which he had forsaken as the power of his message burst from his body. I had been an early friend, arranger, and bodyguard and assisted Jesus as he prayed, studied and meditated. As the aura developed around him day to day I began to taste a fear in the air, the fear of disruption and destruction to every day concerns and matters. Matters such as carrying money, clothes and personal items became unimportant to Jesus and he bid us to abandon any type of planning as we traveled and trust in things working out without any preparation. We traveled in to unfamiliar towns throughout Judea with no contingencies. My job as arranger was dissolving before my eyes and incredibly the multitudes of followers took Jesus literally and many traveled in fact as wandering beggars but with complete faith and became a community of believers of his word. Jesus walked and we followed. He planned only for the next day but continued to allow me to go on with my duties as arranger for the time being.
Jesus was always an incredible judge of character and could instantly dig out the hidden obscure motivations of others often with only a glance. Initially however, I would go into a town first, with money and smooth the way for Jesus' entrance. I would meet people, arrange places for us to stay and make plans so we could avoid breaking any Roman local rules and ordinances or upsetting the Jewish hierarchy. I was loyal to Jesus, but eventually even I out of concern for his safety and those of the faithful followers had to say something about the effects on every day concerns the brutal honesty of his message was causing. The more I fought with myself to stay grounded in everyday matters of business and commerce the further I was driving myself from the bliss of Jesus' community of followers.
If I had to give an example that a modern reader could understand I would say to imagine if a prophet walked from town to town In America in 1968 and gave LSD to every man woman and child over age 16 who wasn't satisfied with his spiritual situation. Jesus wanted to awaken those who were not content, not full of conformity, and not comfortable with their skin and their situation. Then imagine if those malcontents began to spread the word that a teacher was coming who could show a brighter day, had the answers to the meaning of all things and would lead the awakened. Then imagine if Jesus in 1968 had urged those to give up their money, jobs, family, health insurance, extra clothes and shaving and make-up kits and walk with him. Often then he would disappear with a few favorites to think and evolve and then return to us and share greater growing insights against the thoughts and beliefs that we had been raised on and were the foundations of our everyday lives. Then imagine if those malcontents began to become perfectly at peace with themselves, selfless, and approached the world with love, joy, peace and goodwill towards all, even their enemies.
Eventually as I returned to Jesus after leaving him to arrange the affairs in the next town we were to enter I would be shocked by his appearance, especially the hollow timeless eyes. He would be sitting alone, deep in thought refusing food or water and then after a while began to speak. Whatever one was doing became unimportant and the focus would be on the hidden meaning of his words and Jesus would birth ideas and concepts that were earth shaking. Later when I would try to logically fit Jesus' profound teachings into my belief system I would become afraid for us. Because his message was disturbing, revolutionary, and absolutely and perfectly anti-establishment I often wanted to silence Jesus out of fear for his safety. There were Romans everywhere and they were formidable and they controlled our world. The followers of Jesus became blind to the reality of the Romans however and bathed in the message; I however fought that bath, and drove myself from my friend Jesus, and was left behind, and could not walk with him any longer.
In a small village , after a very long walk Jesus was sitting in a chair exhausted, for he had been refusing water during the trip. A woman came in, just an ordinary woman, who none of us knew and she poured an expensive ointment on his head from the Country of India, said to refresh and revitalize. Jesus was grateful and blessed the woman. Later It took me several hours to soothe the irate Husband, whose wife had spent over two years of their savings on the potion. The husband was convinced the wife had gone mad and was threatening to complain to the Romans. This was unthinkable for Roman justice was brutal and swift and the woman, the husband and Jesus would be in grave danger. The Romans were only afraid of two things and that was disorder and chaos and they dealt violently with threats of either. Miraculously I shielded Jesus from himself until he began to recruit the disciples and heal the malcontent-ed, and until it became humanly impossible to stop confrontation with civil authority.
We were walking along an inland sea and Jesus had just recruited two new followers. Jesus knew I was upset because I knew nothing of the men, had not checked them out in advance, as was customary and Jesus had called them in a flamboyant public way which only a year ago he had cautioned against. Jesus was talking very fast to me in private and was convinced that the new man Simon [ later called Peter] would be a key member of the group who could spread the word and message beyond Judea and into the future. I tried to believe but I saw only a humble fisherman, and one with a sour temper. Fortunately no one objected to those two men leaving their boat. They just jumped off the boat and left. They didn't say good bye and they didn't explain to anyone. I often had told Jesus that this type of showmanship would upset the Romans because the recruits creditors and obligates would complain. Jesus however had taken to answering me in parables that made sense when we talked but later left me holding a handful of water when it came to practical ways to avoid the civil authority.
Jesus and I fell out however over the recruitment of James and John good son's of Zebedee a fisherman also. We were walking past their boat, in a very public place with the usual multitudes and Jesus called both James and John and they just came with us. The Father was a good man, and although he employed other fisherman was devastated by the loss of his sons who he had trained and nurtured to carry on his business. The Father also was not a bad spiritual man, he followed the laws of his people. I found later he helped the poor and unfortunate; and as I later brought up to Jesus as him and I argued over the matter Zebedee feared and respected God. The crowds saw this happen and to them such drama was becoming narcotic and they craved miracles, showmanship and razz ma taz.
Jesus was alone and it was 1AM when I was able to see him. He was in a small tent, the kind goat herders use and was sitting delicately on a light chair. Jesus looked frail and had a feminine element to himself that day that frightened me more than our problems with the Romans. I had known Jesus back in Nazareth and had often punched and jostled at him and he was robust and strong. As Carpenter, I often saw Jesus carry heavy logs of wood with ease. Now the aura of death surrounded him, especially at night. I knew he slept poorly and had troubled dreams but his presence to me seemed to spread fear, and potential disaster and I could taste the destruction that surrounded him.
We argued for a few minutes and I told Jesus I couldn't do it any more. Jesus hugged me and bid me follow my own heart, told me he always loved me, and promised I could always come back to the community. I broke the bond between us. No goodbyes to my friends of several years and I had nothing to carry with me anyway so I headed East away from the direction Jesus was going tomorrow and sought to reclaim my life. Now it was my turn to fore sake my past for I had been one of the first to experience the perfect joy of Jesus presence and I was forsaking it.
A few weeks later I heard through my contacts that Jesus had recruited a tax collector for the Romans to be his chief scribe. Levi known as Matthew. Matthew had left his coins on the table where he worked and just walked off the job. Nothing could be better orchestrated to upset and infuriate the Romans.
Every night now my dreams are alive with the presence of Jesus' death and I fear and tremble for him out of the love I still have for him. Nothing seems real any more but the comfort of the message of Jesus is gone. It all seems like a mirage. The Romans however are every where I look. I can't believe we were able to avoid them these last 18 months because they are easily angered. Everything I believed is gone and I have lost my faith. I never feared death, it is always at hand in our times however, something seems missing. As I face the future I sometimes hope that the new scribe Matthew will be able to write down for others who come later what I could not hold in my mind of Jesus' message. I often pray that others once they experience the bliss of Jesus and his Father's kingdom to come do not backslide like I did because of business concerns but remain faithful to the message and not brood, worry and persecute and strangle themselves with tomorrows disquietations.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Being near Jesus was dangerous and lethal to one's past affiliations. When Jesus lead us to a new town, women would often take their families and go into the hills for up to a week to keep husband's and children from his jeopardous influence. In time an element of peril surrounded us, Jesus' followers, for just being near him. Later we were the one's staying in the hills, and places obscure and hidden, for we were forbidden to enter towns, business areas and churches. However despite incredible hardships we were blissfully happy and even obscurity could not stifle Jesus' message which convulsed to be revealed.
Jesus presence had became mesmerizing. When we heard the message of profound truth he taught we only wanted to be near him, abolish our sinful ways and full fill and experience the destiny he promised us. More than one who met him or even heard of him would abandon a faithful wife, or son and daughter, or Father and Mother in hope of following him about or just doing one deed or small kindness to make his life easier, if only for a moment.
I traveled with Jesus for several years before he recruited the disciples but was forced to leave the group because I was a link to his past, a past which he had forsaken as the power of his message burst from his body. I had been an early friend, arranger, and bodyguard and assisted Jesus as he prayed, studied and meditated. As the aura developed around him day to day I began to taste a fear in the air, the fear of disruption and destruction to every day concerns and matters. Matters such as carrying money, clothes and personal items became unimportant to Jesus and he bid us to abandon any type of planning as we traveled and trust in things working out without any preparation. We traveled in to unfamiliar towns throughout Judea with no contingencies. My job as arranger was dissolving before my eyes and incredibly the multitudes of followers took Jesus literally and many traveled in fact as wandering beggars but with complete faith and became a community of believers of his word. Jesus walked and we followed. He planned only for the next day but continued to allow me to go on with my duties as arranger for the time being.
Jesus was always an incredible judge of character and could instantly dig out the hidden obscure motivations of others often with only a glance. Initially however, I would go into a town first, with money and smooth the way for Jesus' entrance. I would meet people, arrange places for us to stay and make plans so we could avoid breaking any Roman local rules and ordinances or upsetting the Jewish hierarchy. I was loyal to Jesus, but eventually even I out of concern for his safety and those of the faithful followers had to say something about the effects on every day concerns the brutal honesty of his message was causing. The more I fought with myself to stay grounded in everyday matters of business and commerce the further I was driving myself from the bliss of Jesus' community of followers.
If I had to give an example that a modern reader could understand I would say to imagine if a prophet walked from town to town In America in 1968 and gave LSD to every man woman and child over age 16 who wasn't satisfied with his spiritual situation. Jesus wanted to awaken those who were not content, not full of conformity, and not comfortable with their skin and their situation. Then imagine if those malcontents began to spread the word that a teacher was coming who could show a brighter day, had the answers to the meaning of all things and would lead the awakened. Then imagine if Jesus in 1968 had urged those to give up their money, jobs, family, health insurance, extra clothes and shaving and make-up kits and walk with him. Often then he would disappear with a few favorites to think and evolve and then return to us and share greater growing insights against the thoughts and beliefs that we had been raised on and were the foundations of our everyday lives. Then imagine if those malcontents began to become perfectly at peace with themselves, selfless, and approached the world with love, joy, peace and goodwill towards all, even their enemies.
Eventually as I returned to Jesus after leaving him to arrange the affairs in the next town we were to enter I would be shocked by his appearance, especially the hollow timeless eyes. He would be sitting alone, deep in thought refusing food or water and then after a while began to speak. Whatever one was doing became unimportant and the focus would be on the hidden meaning of his words and Jesus would birth ideas and concepts that were earth shaking. Later when I would try to logically fit Jesus' profound teachings into my belief system I would become afraid for us. Because his message was disturbing, revolutionary, and absolutely and perfectly anti-establishment I often wanted to silence Jesus out of fear for his safety. There were Romans everywhere and they were formidable and they controlled our world. The followers of Jesus became blind to the reality of the Romans however and bathed in the message; I however fought that bath, and drove myself from my friend Jesus, and was left behind, and could not walk with him any longer.
In a small village , after a very long walk Jesus was sitting in a chair exhausted, for he had been refusing water during the trip. A woman came in, just an ordinary woman, who none of us knew and she poured an expensive ointment on his head from the Country of India, said to refresh and revitalize. Jesus was grateful and blessed the woman. Later It took me several hours to soothe the irate Husband, whose wife had spent over two years of their savings on the potion. The husband was convinced the wife had gone mad and was threatening to complain to the Romans. This was unthinkable for Roman justice was brutal and swift and the woman, the husband and Jesus would be in grave danger. The Romans were only afraid of two things and that was disorder and chaos and they dealt violently with threats of either. Miraculously I shielded Jesus from himself until he began to recruit the disciples and heal the malcontent-ed, and until it became humanly impossible to stop confrontation with civil authority.
We were walking along an inland sea and Jesus had just recruited two new followers. Jesus knew I was upset because I knew nothing of the men, had not checked them out in advance, as was customary and Jesus had called them in a flamboyant public way which only a year ago he had cautioned against. Jesus was talking very fast to me in private and was convinced that the new man Simon [ later called Peter] would be a key member of the group who could spread the word and message beyond Judea and into the future. I tried to believe but I saw only a humble fisherman, and one with a sour temper. Fortunately no one objected to those two men leaving their boat. They just jumped off the boat and left. They didn't say good bye and they didn't explain to anyone. I often had told Jesus that this type of showmanship would upset the Romans because the recruits creditors and obligates would complain. Jesus however had taken to answering me in parables that made sense when we talked but later left me holding a handful of water when it came to practical ways to avoid the civil authority.
Jesus and I fell out however over the recruitment of James and John good son's of Zebedee a fisherman also. We were walking past their boat, in a very public place with the usual multitudes and Jesus called both James and John and they just came with us. The Father was a good man, and although he employed other fisherman was devastated by the loss of his sons who he had trained and nurtured to carry on his business. The Father also was not a bad spiritual man, he followed the laws of his people. I found later he helped the poor and unfortunate; and as I later brought up to Jesus as him and I argued over the matter Zebedee feared and respected God. The crowds saw this happen and to them such drama was becoming narcotic and they craved miracles, showmanship and razz ma taz.
Jesus was alone and it was 1AM when I was able to see him. He was in a small tent, the kind goat herders use and was sitting delicately on a light chair. Jesus looked frail and had a feminine element to himself that day that frightened me more than our problems with the Romans. I had known Jesus back in Nazareth and had often punched and jostled at him and he was robust and strong. As Carpenter, I often saw Jesus carry heavy logs of wood with ease. Now the aura of death surrounded him, especially at night. I knew he slept poorly and had troubled dreams but his presence to me seemed to spread fear, and potential disaster and I could taste the destruction that surrounded him.
We argued for a few minutes and I told Jesus I couldn't do it any more. Jesus hugged me and bid me follow my own heart, told me he always loved me, and promised I could always come back to the community. I broke the bond between us. No goodbyes to my friends of several years and I had nothing to carry with me anyway so I headed East away from the direction Jesus was going tomorrow and sought to reclaim my life. Now it was my turn to fore sake my past for I had been one of the first to experience the perfect joy of Jesus presence and I was forsaking it.
A few weeks later I heard through my contacts that Jesus had recruited a tax collector for the Romans to be his chief scribe. Levi known as Matthew. Matthew had left his coins on the table where he worked and just walked off the job. Nothing could be better orchestrated to upset and infuriate the Romans.
Every night now my dreams are alive with the presence of Jesus' death and I fear and tremble for him out of the love I still have for him. Nothing seems real any more but the comfort of the message of Jesus is gone. It all seems like a mirage. The Romans however are every where I look. I can't believe we were able to avoid them these last 18 months because they are easily angered. Everything I believed is gone and I have lost my faith. I never feared death, it is always at hand in our times however, something seems missing. As I face the future I sometimes hope that the new scribe Matthew will be able to write down for others who come later what I could not hold in my mind of Jesus' message. I often pray that others once they experience the bliss of Jesus and his Father's kingdom to come do not backslide like I did because of business concerns but remain faithful to the message and not brood, worry and persecute and strangle themselves with tomorrows disquietations.
Friday, February 26, 2010
The Young Lady Who Would No Longer Listen to Reason
fiction
edward w pritchard
Tregan wouldn't listen to reason but as she argued with the rest of the group she allowed each person to complete their entire thought before she answered them. In a few minutes the entire group of six were sided against her.
They all wanted to leave Miss Trichett's body here and walk back to the drop off point. They figured with luck they could reach the road this time day after tomorrow.
"No," Tregan said, " we can't count on luck and if we do we must assume adverse luck."
Bake was the only male left and was trying to intimidate Tregan and bully her. He cut off her sentences, moved too close as he talked and waived his hands and arms to emphasize his points.
Tregan who had met Bake only yesterday looked him in the eye and said directly to him
" Bake we are all afraid of the wolves"
Bake leaned back as if slapped, Tregan had silenced him.
Monica who was nearly as large as Bake and heavier said " the wolves are exactly why we have to leave now before it gets dark"
Tregan stepped toward Bake and stood along side of him. Addressing the group she said " the wolves will track us if we leave and will probably kill most of us if we move from here.
"How do you these things" said Reisha, who knew Tregan, frightened.
Tregan continued " its getting near Winter, the wolves have smelled the dead body among us, this is their chance to store a lot of food for the next month or so.
Monica again " why haven't they tried to kill us now"
Tregan " they are doing the same thing we are, planning, organizing and waiting, to see if we make a mistake or split up. They might eventually try to challenge us but if Darin and help gets back in time we will be OK.
Carson, the intellectual " might, you don't know?"
Tregan, "No, it depends on how hungry the wolves are and their leader."
Bake " won't bears come if we stay here?"
Tregan "eventually, but we are more likely to meet a bear on the trails and he would have the advantage on a hill and in the woods."
Pamy " why don't we just leave the body for the wolves and take our chances together on the trial?"
Tregan, angrily NO! "we must protect the body at all costs, she is one of us"
Carson " shouldn't we bury the body?"
Tregan " No, we must protect Miss Trichett as if it were still with us." The wolves will not eat the body for now, they will try to hunt the smallest and weakest first and then try one by one to to kill the rest of us. Unless a bear comes into camp, the wolves will not come to eat the body until they have finished with us or we drive them away by force and intimidation."
"You mean they will kill us all"
No, said Tregan we can drive them off if we fight together, stay together, and identify and kill their leader if we can.
What should I do said Bake
Tregan " Find and make a stout spear or two time permitting. You are the only one strong enough to kill a charging wolf with a spear thrust. But you must stay near the fire, not charge into the wolves out of camp, even if your angry, and you should try to protect the others and stay to your full height during the fight with the wolves.
Rachel, who had been coming on to Darin before he left " I am going to look for Darin"
Tregan " If you do a few wolves will follow you and find you. They are watching us and will stalk any movement away from the group. They don't know our strength and will be cautious at first." That's why we stay here together
How many wolves are there?
Tregan " nine to thirteen maybe, not sure"
How many bears will come
Tregan
Only one bear at a time unless we are really unlucky, and likely none but if we are out here long enough one will come into camp.
Bake " we can scare a bear"
Tregan" likely no but he could be easily be discouraged by such a good size group of us, and he will leave for a while and come back if he can't eat elsewhere"
"What should I do, said Carson ?"
Tregan looking off into the distance " we need to surround the body with four hot fires and they must continue to burn as long as we are here night and day, rain or snow."
The women should form three teams and gather wood near camp and pile extra dry wood near each fire.
What are you going to do.
I need a sling, said Tregan, if I can find one. All the women must gather 25 to 30 hand sized rocks. Use five rocks for practice throws but don't let your arm get too sore and try to reclaim the rocks after you throw them. Imagine hitting a charging wolf in the head, but any hit is good.
"I can't believe this is happening" said Rachel.
Rachel, said Tregan, "it already happened when Darin left and the wolves found us. Darin did the only thing he could do to try and save us. You have to help us so we can all get out of here and get back safely."
Why haven't the wolves attacked us yet", Is Darin in danger.
Tregan " they are waiting for stragglers or for us to split up" Darin went alone because it was the riskiest thing to do, but only choice for him to make.
Will they attack at night
Tregan " Not sure, maybe a dawn or dusk but i don't have a feeling about that yet."
What about a bear attack at night
Tregan " well that won't be good, one of us would probably die because we wouldn't see him until he was upon us. But whatever happens no one is to run out of camp. The wolves will pick off stragglers if the bear comes in.
Tregan " I need someone to come with me to the River. Monica let's you and I be team C. The river was about 75 yards away.
Monica " isn't that dangerous
Tregan " Yes but there might be a fish and we need water for later.
What about dysentery
Tregan " That's a good trade off if we get out of here.
Two hours later the camp was set, four fires were burning, extra wood had been gathered and Miss Trichett's body was covered with a blanket and there had been a short service for her lead by Carson. The girls were in three two person groups, a b and c. In two hour shifts they would alternately keep the fire going, sleep, and stand guard.
Bake had three good spears and was cooking the fish Monica had found near the river. The sleeping members had the sleeping bags and the guards each took a blanket. Bake was to rest an hour and then be on guard for an hour until daylight and then he could sleep as needed.
About dark the wolves began to howl and move about higher up the ridge but did not come into camp. During the night they could be heard moving about the forest.
Westward bound adventure group for troubled teens was given a refund for trip 672, October 7th to 10, 2009. The seven tenth graders had an abrupted trip because of the accidental death of the guide Miss Trichett. They camped alone for two nights near the river, with a steep ledge to their backs and maintained fires to drive off animals and protect the body. The other guide Darin, walked non-stop for two days and returned without rest with four armed park rangers to bring out the teenagers.
The high school that most of the students came from hasn't decided if another group will be sent next year. There is however, something to be said that adversity brings out leadership.
As a group, most of the team, the incorrigibles, stay in touch and help each other when they can.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Tregan wouldn't listen to reason but as she argued with the rest of the group she allowed each person to complete their entire thought before she answered them. In a few minutes the entire group of six were sided against her.
They all wanted to leave Miss Trichett's body here and walk back to the drop off point. They figured with luck they could reach the road this time day after tomorrow.
"No," Tregan said, " we can't count on luck and if we do we must assume adverse luck."
Bake was the only male left and was trying to intimidate Tregan and bully her. He cut off her sentences, moved too close as he talked and waived his hands and arms to emphasize his points.
Tregan who had met Bake only yesterday looked him in the eye and said directly to him
" Bake we are all afraid of the wolves"
Bake leaned back as if slapped, Tregan had silenced him.
Monica who was nearly as large as Bake and heavier said " the wolves are exactly why we have to leave now before it gets dark"
Tregan stepped toward Bake and stood along side of him. Addressing the group she said " the wolves will track us if we leave and will probably kill most of us if we move from here.
"How do you these things" said Reisha, who knew Tregan, frightened.
Tregan continued " its getting near Winter, the wolves have smelled the dead body among us, this is their chance to store a lot of food for the next month or so.
Monica again " why haven't they tried to kill us now"
Tregan " they are doing the same thing we are, planning, organizing and waiting, to see if we make a mistake or split up. They might eventually try to challenge us but if Darin and help gets back in time we will be OK.
Carson, the intellectual " might, you don't know?"
Tregan, "No, it depends on how hungry the wolves are and their leader."
Bake " won't bears come if we stay here?"
Tregan "eventually, but we are more likely to meet a bear on the trails and he would have the advantage on a hill and in the woods."
Pamy " why don't we just leave the body for the wolves and take our chances together on the trial?"
Tregan, angrily NO! "we must protect the body at all costs, she is one of us"
Carson " shouldn't we bury the body?"
Tregan " No, we must protect Miss Trichett as if it were still with us." The wolves will not eat the body for now, they will try to hunt the smallest and weakest first and then try one by one to to kill the rest of us. Unless a bear comes into camp, the wolves will not come to eat the body until they have finished with us or we drive them away by force and intimidation."
"You mean they will kill us all"
No, said Tregan we can drive them off if we fight together, stay together, and identify and kill their leader if we can.
What should I do said Bake
Tregan " Find and make a stout spear or two time permitting. You are the only one strong enough to kill a charging wolf with a spear thrust. But you must stay near the fire, not charge into the wolves out of camp, even if your angry, and you should try to protect the others and stay to your full height during the fight with the wolves.
Rachel, who had been coming on to Darin before he left " I am going to look for Darin"
Tregan " If you do a few wolves will follow you and find you. They are watching us and will stalk any movement away from the group. They don't know our strength and will be cautious at first." That's why we stay here together
How many wolves are there?
Tregan " nine to thirteen maybe, not sure"
How many bears will come
Tregan
Only one bear at a time unless we are really unlucky, and likely none but if we are out here long enough one will come into camp.
Bake " we can scare a bear"
Tregan" likely no but he could be easily be discouraged by such a good size group of us, and he will leave for a while and come back if he can't eat elsewhere"
"What should I do, said Carson ?"
Tregan looking off into the distance " we need to surround the body with four hot fires and they must continue to burn as long as we are here night and day, rain or snow."
The women should form three teams and gather wood near camp and pile extra dry wood near each fire.
What are you going to do.
I need a sling, said Tregan, if I can find one. All the women must gather 25 to 30 hand sized rocks. Use five rocks for practice throws but don't let your arm get too sore and try to reclaim the rocks after you throw them. Imagine hitting a charging wolf in the head, but any hit is good.
"I can't believe this is happening" said Rachel.
Rachel, said Tregan, "it already happened when Darin left and the wolves found us. Darin did the only thing he could do to try and save us. You have to help us so we can all get out of here and get back safely."
Why haven't the wolves attacked us yet", Is Darin in danger.
Tregan " they are waiting for stragglers or for us to split up" Darin went alone because it was the riskiest thing to do, but only choice for him to make.
Will they attack at night
Tregan " Not sure, maybe a dawn or dusk but i don't have a feeling about that yet."
What about a bear attack at night
Tregan " well that won't be good, one of us would probably die because we wouldn't see him until he was upon us. But whatever happens no one is to run out of camp. The wolves will pick off stragglers if the bear comes in.
Tregan " I need someone to come with me to the River. Monica let's you and I be team C. The river was about 75 yards away.
Monica " isn't that dangerous
Tregan " Yes but there might be a fish and we need water for later.
What about dysentery
Tregan " That's a good trade off if we get out of here.
Two hours later the camp was set, four fires were burning, extra wood had been gathered and Miss Trichett's body was covered with a blanket and there had been a short service for her lead by Carson. The girls were in three two person groups, a b and c. In two hour shifts they would alternately keep the fire going, sleep, and stand guard.
Bake had three good spears and was cooking the fish Monica had found near the river. The sleeping members had the sleeping bags and the guards each took a blanket. Bake was to rest an hour and then be on guard for an hour until daylight and then he could sleep as needed.
About dark the wolves began to howl and move about higher up the ridge but did not come into camp. During the night they could be heard moving about the forest.
Westward bound adventure group for troubled teens was given a refund for trip 672, October 7th to 10, 2009. The seven tenth graders had an abrupted trip because of the accidental death of the guide Miss Trichett. They camped alone for two nights near the river, with a steep ledge to their backs and maintained fires to drive off animals and protect the body. The other guide Darin, walked non-stop for two days and returned without rest with four armed park rangers to bring out the teenagers.
The high school that most of the students came from hasn't decided if another group will be sent next year. There is however, something to be said that adversity brings out leadership.
As a group, most of the team, the incorrigibles, stay in touch and help each other when they can.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Beverly-The Hippies Devolve
Beverly
-The Hippies Devolve
fiction
edward w pritchard
Please see related stories first- by same author
Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
Beverly finished at the piano and went up to Hank's third floor loft to crash for the night. She dragged the plastic globe chair to the picture window overlooking the Cuyahoga River, wrapped up in Hank's old green army jacket and fell into a light sleep.
Beverly awoke at 1:30 AM to Hank coming in from closing the bar. Laying still with her eyes closed Beverly listened to Hank's nightly ritual. Hank filled a large heavy glass with 5 ounces of Whiskey, found a CD and listened to the chosen CD through an expensive pair of headphones. Hank then dragged out his sleeping bag and laid across the bean bag chair. Opening her eyes Beverly also saw that Hank had lit a candle.
Hank had owned the downtown Kent, Ohio bar since 1968. Hank had played guitar with a local group that had cut a couple of national records in the 1960's and with his royalties he had bought the building and bar. Through a series of investments Hank now owed the local bank twice what the Bar and building were worth. Hank had earlier tonight asked Beverly to look at the foreclosure notice from the Bank so Beverly decided to get up and review the loan documents since she couldn't get back to sleep. She used the lava lamp for light and quickly read through the letters to Hank from his bank.
Hank's loan was an unusual 40 year amortization interest only loan from April 01, 1968 to April 01 2008. On the latter date the entire balance plus interest would be due. Since Hank hadn't made many of the interest payments the loan had negative amortization and Hank now owed nearly twice the original $150,000. Hank had also taken several additional draws of money beyond the 150,000 from time to time with the Bank's permission. Hank had compounded his problem with his loan balance by getting several six month extensions on the loans over the last two years and not paid any interest during that time. There was a polite letter from the Bank dated March 01, 2010 that the balance of 297,555. was due by April 01 2010 or the Bank would take a cognovit judgment and foreclose on the building. Since the original loan was for a business purpose in Ohio confession of judgment was legal.
Beverly knew the building and the bar were all that Hank had and without them he would be desperate.
Despite the gravity of Hank's situation Beverly was fascinated by the notes and pictures Hank had attached to the dull amortization schedule. Hank was planning to send a copy of the amortization schedule to the Bank President in a few days with a letter asking for more time to pay.To prove his case Hank had pasted pictures and notes to the right of the page after page of amortization schedules. Each month he would have a comment or picture that typified his life at that time.
As Beverly began flipping through the pages the date May 01, 1968 caught her eye:
The caption from Hank to himself read:
Hank the Hippy 1968
I join a mass movement
I went to a party and I have been at it for over a year now.
There was a photo pasted here of Hank in the Green army coat that Beverly now wore
Hank looked happy and prosperous and had a nice smile in his eyes
end part 1
Part 2
Beverly continued to review Hank's notes on the right of the Amortization schedule
It read:
October 1971
Hank the Lady's man
page after page of Hank with different beautiful elvish women followed.
Jumping ahead
Beverly read
October 02, 1981
My women are gone and I had better save something for later, I should pay down my bank note
Hank no longer looked happy. He had lots of comments in his notes about being alone and referred to himself in the second person as the shut in.
Beverly became aware that Hank was looking at her and smiled over at him. Hank nodded got up went to the dresser, took out an odd shaped glass globe, placed the burning candle in the middle of the globe, screwed the two sides of the globe together using his hands and turning each half a turn in opposite directions and went to the window, opened it, and leaned far out to throw the globe. Beverly ran over, scared and held Hank tightly about the waist from the back as he threw the lighted candle and globe toward the Cuyahoga River, about 40 or 50 feet from the building. The globe bounced and bobbed but the candle stayed lit as it floated downstream.
Hank was older than Beverly's Father and had scared her when he leaned out the window. He didn't seem drunk just groggy. Beverly got Hank to sleep in the globe chair and dozed off her self in the sleeping bag.
Beverly's dream.
Beverly dreamed she was back in the cafeteria in Junior high school. She was sitting with a boy and he was holding her hand. Slowly the boy became very flamboyant wearing a pink Boa, and silk clothes and an outlandish high hat. Then the boy was Jimi Hendricks and he looked at her and said you got me expelled. Next Beverly was helping him with homework, exponents and he said 2 to the zero power is not nothing it's one,-- get it Beverly. Then Jimi Hendrix' arm was a guitar and he reached far out of Hank's window and the guitar touched the candle Hank had throw from the window and the candle began to double over and over, growing exponentially until the entire river was full of burning candles floating in both directions.
Beverly awoke with a start and she ran the few feet over to the window and the candle was still in view about one hundred feet down river. She must have slept and dreamed only for a few minutes. The head phones were on that Hank had been listening to earlier and Beverly could hear it was Jimi Hendrick's playing Villanova junction the piece from the end of Woodstock. Beverly had heard the CD as she slept and concocted a dream around the music.
Beverly was working at her laptop as Hank slept. She put Hank's business loan problem aside and continued the poem she had began when she first came upstairs after Gabby had left and after she finished at the piano on the floor below in Hank's building.
Beverly's poem was about endings and seeing Hank's nightly routine had inspired her to write some more.
end part 2
Before she continued the poem Beverly looked at Hank's amortization schedule again curious to know what he had wrote on April 1, 2010 the last day to pay before foreclosure on his building.
Hank had written a note to himself
It read- "Hank, what do you do when the music stops?
Beverly balanced her laptop on her lap and began to compose"
Things had ended like a lush pear hitting the side of a brick building. The impact annihilated the pear but the changes to the building were subtle and took time to work out.
The Pear
First went logic- gone in an instant
Then went sensation- a massive shock of pain was felt
Last went experience- experience hung on for a few extra moments and passed something on through the heart
then the pear was gone
The building
the bricks in the vicinity of the pear's impact absorbed the sugar from the pear and attracted bees and inspects
bees and insects attracted birds
birds nested in the holes in the bricks
in time all evidence of the pear's impact was gone
the building is still there
no worse for wear from the impact with the pear
except for a few nesting birds
who lay very tiny turquoise colored eggs in the spaces between the bricks
end part 3
Part 4
Beverly
It was Monday May 06, 2010. Beverly had just successfully negotiated Hank another six month extension on his loan. The bank was easy to deal with. Hank had balked a little but she finally got him to agree to sell his Gibson flying V guitar, just like the one his guitar hero Jimi Hendrix played sometimes; and with the $75,000 of funds from the guitar sale to be consummated later today, the Bank had agreed to another extension. Hank had promised Beverly he would work to pay down the loan some more but both knew he wouldn't. He had just wanted a few more months before the changes started in earnest.
Beverly had read the fax from Gabby when she first got to her office this morning. Now that she was done with Hank's loan problem she wanted to help Gabby get the word out on the 2020 shootings in Bloomfield Michigan. She wasn't sure if there was any reality to what Gabby's computer had predicted but she wanted to help get out the word all the same. For Chief Bigfoot at least, and the dead students in the other pictures.
Going to the social network site Face book Beverly posted her poem about the pear hitting the building and at the bottom, under the poem she posted:
Save the - Bloomfield, Michigan Eight- May 2020- pass it on
As soon as she posted the poem and message the tally of hits for the poem began to grow exponentially, but starting with one. Her initial post was 1 and it began to rapidly double as people began to look at the message. 1, 2 , 4 , 8, 16 .. 268.
Beverly walked down to the Starbucks for coffee wearing the old green army coat Hank had given her for helping him. The old coat was warm and offered good protection from the cool wind.
-The Hippies Devolve
fiction
edward w pritchard
Please see related stories first- by same author
Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
Beverly finished at the piano and went up to Hank's third floor loft to crash for the night. She dragged the plastic globe chair to the picture window overlooking the Cuyahoga River, wrapped up in Hank's old green army jacket and fell into a light sleep.
Beverly awoke at 1:30 AM to Hank coming in from closing the bar. Laying still with her eyes closed Beverly listened to Hank's nightly ritual. Hank filled a large heavy glass with 5 ounces of Whiskey, found a CD and listened to the chosen CD through an expensive pair of headphones. Hank then dragged out his sleeping bag and laid across the bean bag chair. Opening her eyes Beverly also saw that Hank had lit a candle.
Hank had owned the downtown Kent, Ohio bar since 1968. Hank had played guitar with a local group that had cut a couple of national records in the 1960's and with his royalties he had bought the building and bar. Through a series of investments Hank now owed the local bank twice what the Bar and building were worth. Hank had earlier tonight asked Beverly to look at the foreclosure notice from the Bank so Beverly decided to get up and review the loan documents since she couldn't get back to sleep. She used the lava lamp for light and quickly read through the letters to Hank from his bank.
Hank's loan was an unusual 40 year amortization interest only loan from April 01, 1968 to April 01 2008. On the latter date the entire balance plus interest would be due. Since Hank hadn't made many of the interest payments the loan had negative amortization and Hank now owed nearly twice the original $150,000. Hank had also taken several additional draws of money beyond the 150,000 from time to time with the Bank's permission. Hank had compounded his problem with his loan balance by getting several six month extensions on the loans over the last two years and not paid any interest during that time. There was a polite letter from the Bank dated March 01, 2010 that the balance of 297,555. was due by April 01 2010 or the Bank would take a cognovit judgment and foreclose on the building. Since the original loan was for a business purpose in Ohio confession of judgment was legal.
Beverly knew the building and the bar were all that Hank had and without them he would be desperate.
Despite the gravity of Hank's situation Beverly was fascinated by the notes and pictures Hank had attached to the dull amortization schedule. Hank was planning to send a copy of the amortization schedule to the Bank President in a few days with a letter asking for more time to pay.To prove his case Hank had pasted pictures and notes to the right of the page after page of amortization schedules. Each month he would have a comment or picture that typified his life at that time.
As Beverly began flipping through the pages the date May 01, 1968 caught her eye:
The caption from Hank to himself read:
Hank the Hippy 1968
I join a mass movement
I went to a party and I have been at it for over a year now.
There was a photo pasted here of Hank in the Green army coat that Beverly now wore
Hank looked happy and prosperous and had a nice smile in his eyes
end part 1
Part 2
Beverly continued to review Hank's notes on the right of the Amortization schedule
It read:
October 1971
Hank the Lady's man
page after page of Hank with different beautiful elvish women followed.
Jumping ahead
Beverly read
October 02, 1981
My women are gone and I had better save something for later, I should pay down my bank note
Hank no longer looked happy. He had lots of comments in his notes about being alone and referred to himself in the second person as the shut in.
Beverly became aware that Hank was looking at her and smiled over at him. Hank nodded got up went to the dresser, took out an odd shaped glass globe, placed the burning candle in the middle of the globe, screwed the two sides of the globe together using his hands and turning each half a turn in opposite directions and went to the window, opened it, and leaned far out to throw the globe. Beverly ran over, scared and held Hank tightly about the waist from the back as he threw the lighted candle and globe toward the Cuyahoga River, about 40 or 50 feet from the building. The globe bounced and bobbed but the candle stayed lit as it floated downstream.
Hank was older than Beverly's Father and had scared her when he leaned out the window. He didn't seem drunk just groggy. Beverly got Hank to sleep in the globe chair and dozed off her self in the sleeping bag.
Beverly's dream.
Beverly dreamed she was back in the cafeteria in Junior high school. She was sitting with a boy and he was holding her hand. Slowly the boy became very flamboyant wearing a pink Boa, and silk clothes and an outlandish high hat. Then the boy was Jimi Hendricks and he looked at her and said you got me expelled. Next Beverly was helping him with homework, exponents and he said 2 to the zero power is not nothing it's one,-- get it Beverly. Then Jimi Hendrix' arm was a guitar and he reached far out of Hank's window and the guitar touched the candle Hank had throw from the window and the candle began to double over and over, growing exponentially until the entire river was full of burning candles floating in both directions.
Beverly awoke with a start and she ran the few feet over to the window and the candle was still in view about one hundred feet down river. She must have slept and dreamed only for a few minutes. The head phones were on that Hank had been listening to earlier and Beverly could hear it was Jimi Hendrick's playing Villanova junction the piece from the end of Woodstock. Beverly had heard the CD as she slept and concocted a dream around the music.
Beverly was working at her laptop as Hank slept. She put Hank's business loan problem aside and continued the poem she had began when she first came upstairs after Gabby had left and after she finished at the piano on the floor below in Hank's building.
Beverly's poem was about endings and seeing Hank's nightly routine had inspired her to write some more.
end part 2
Before she continued the poem Beverly looked at Hank's amortization schedule again curious to know what he had wrote on April 1, 2010 the last day to pay before foreclosure on his building.
Hank had written a note to himself
It read- "Hank, what do you do when the music stops?
Beverly balanced her laptop on her lap and began to compose"
Things had ended like a lush pear hitting the side of a brick building. The impact annihilated the pear but the changes to the building were subtle and took time to work out.
The Pear
First went logic- gone in an instant
Then went sensation- a massive shock of pain was felt
Last went experience- experience hung on for a few extra moments and passed something on through the heart
then the pear was gone
The building
the bricks in the vicinity of the pear's impact absorbed the sugar from the pear and attracted bees and inspects
bees and insects attracted birds
birds nested in the holes in the bricks
in time all evidence of the pear's impact was gone
the building is still there
no worse for wear from the impact with the pear
except for a few nesting birds
who lay very tiny turquoise colored eggs in the spaces between the bricks
end part 3
Part 4
Beverly
It was Monday May 06, 2010. Beverly had just successfully negotiated Hank another six month extension on his loan. The bank was easy to deal with. Hank had balked a little but she finally got him to agree to sell his Gibson flying V guitar, just like the one his guitar hero Jimi Hendrix played sometimes; and with the $75,000 of funds from the guitar sale to be consummated later today, the Bank had agreed to another extension. Hank had promised Beverly he would work to pay down the loan some more but both knew he wouldn't. He had just wanted a few more months before the changes started in earnest.
Beverly had read the fax from Gabby when she first got to her office this morning. Now that she was done with Hank's loan problem she wanted to help Gabby get the word out on the 2020 shootings in Bloomfield Michigan. She wasn't sure if there was any reality to what Gabby's computer had predicted but she wanted to help get out the word all the same. For Chief Bigfoot at least, and the dead students in the other pictures.
Going to the social network site Face book Beverly posted her poem about the pear hitting the building and at the bottom, under the poem she posted:
Save the - Bloomfield, Michigan Eight- May 2020- pass it on
As soon as she posted the poem and message the tally of hits for the poem began to grow exponentially, but starting with one. Her initial post was 1 and it began to rapidly double as people began to look at the message. 1, 2 , 4 , 8, 16 .. 268.
Beverly walked down to the Starbucks for coffee wearing the old green army coat Hank had given her for helping him. The old coat was warm and offered good protection from the cool wind.
Freedom and Equality
Freedom and Equality
Some Thing Must Have Been in the Air Today
fiction
edward w pritchard
The best knives in the world in the 1780's were from Syria. Many of the fish women working on the Sienne in Paris, France owned at least one Syrian knife and it was usually her favorite. The Syrian knives held an edge a long time, cut cleanly and were perfectly balanced to the hand.
There were 18 women who worked for the West Bank Fish Company. Their day at work started at 6AM and went till 6PM. Six days a week they cleaned and cut fish. The pace was intense, the job was difficult to get, paid well, and the women who could do the work were formidable.
Mr. Monoui was having a meeting with the 18 women who worked for him at the fish company. As usual they were required to attend the meeting and attendance was not paid work. The theme of the meetings were usually the same. The workers needed to work very hard to allow the company to prosper. Mr. Monoui had undertaken a large risk in entering the fish business and starting the company in these troubled times and every day Mr Monoui had to be nimble and agile to keep the company afloat.
Today's meeting ended with Mr. Monoui reading a short poem he had written to his assembled workers. A written copy of the poem was also given to each employee for future study.
One particular line in the poem was notable:
Eighteen [ dix-huit in French] workers depended on the skill, resolve and entrepreneurial ability of one man, the owner Mr. Monoui for their lively hood as do their children and loved ones. Without the owner no fish would be caught, cleaned or shipped.
The implication was that one man, the owner was the patriarch and benefactor of the other 18 workers. All nineteen employees had equal opportunity to excel, but only one took the risk and had the grit to pursue the challenge to succeed.
The workers responded to the poem and today's meeting with anger. Several women had not cleaned their knives for the day and they raised them and shook them at Mr. Monoui. Five or six employees left and went home but the rest of the women began to circle around the business owner.
It was July 14, 1789.
The Syrian knife is perfectly balanced to the hand, can hold an edge for a long time, and cuts cleanly. Mercy shouted Mr. Monoui- Be agile and nimble shouted the cutting workers. There are many of you and only one of me shouted Mr. Monoui. We are one now, all equal shouted the women. Help me gasped Mr. Monoui. Liberty shouted the remaining fish women as they wiped off their knives.
Something was in the air today and the meeting had got out of hand that was sure. The formidable fish women wrapped up their knives and headed for the Bastille to cut some more shouting Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort!" ("Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death!"),
Some Thing Must Have Been in the Air Today
fiction
edward w pritchard
The best knives in the world in the 1780's were from Syria. Many of the fish women working on the Sienne in Paris, France owned at least one Syrian knife and it was usually her favorite. The Syrian knives held an edge a long time, cut cleanly and were perfectly balanced to the hand.
There were 18 women who worked for the West Bank Fish Company. Their day at work started at 6AM and went till 6PM. Six days a week they cleaned and cut fish. The pace was intense, the job was difficult to get, paid well, and the women who could do the work were formidable.
Mr. Monoui was having a meeting with the 18 women who worked for him at the fish company. As usual they were required to attend the meeting and attendance was not paid work. The theme of the meetings were usually the same. The workers needed to work very hard to allow the company to prosper. Mr. Monoui had undertaken a large risk in entering the fish business and starting the company in these troubled times and every day Mr Monoui had to be nimble and agile to keep the company afloat.
Today's meeting ended with Mr. Monoui reading a short poem he had written to his assembled workers. A written copy of the poem was also given to each employee for future study.
One particular line in the poem was notable:
Eighteen [ dix-huit in French] workers depended on the skill, resolve and entrepreneurial ability of one man, the owner Mr. Monoui for their lively hood as do their children and loved ones. Without the owner no fish would be caught, cleaned or shipped.
The implication was that one man, the owner was the patriarch and benefactor of the other 18 workers. All nineteen employees had equal opportunity to excel, but only one took the risk and had the grit to pursue the challenge to succeed.
The workers responded to the poem and today's meeting with anger. Several women had not cleaned their knives for the day and they raised them and shook them at Mr. Monoui. Five or six employees left and went home but the rest of the women began to circle around the business owner.
It was July 14, 1789.
The Syrian knife is perfectly balanced to the hand, can hold an edge for a long time, and cuts cleanly. Mercy shouted Mr. Monoui- Be agile and nimble shouted the cutting workers. There are many of you and only one of me shouted Mr. Monoui. We are one now, all equal shouted the women. Help me gasped Mr. Monoui. Liberty shouted the remaining fish women as they wiped off their knives.
Something was in the air today and the meeting had got out of hand that was sure. The formidable fish women wrapped up their knives and headed for the Bastille to cut some more shouting Liberté, égalité, fraternité, ou la mort!" ("Liberty, equality, fraternity, or death!"),
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The Electric Red House in the Sky
The Electric Red House in the Sky
for Jimi Hendrix
the world's best guitar player ever
For Black History Month 2010
fiction
edward w pritchard
Fourty years ago when he left us, Jimi Hendrix said " If I don't see you no more in this world, I'll see you in heaven one day." So when I went over the rainbow I looked him up and stopped for a visit.
Jimi was arguing a little when I got there, with some Hippies calling them passive and hard headed; so I just stood and listened respectfully. Apparently Jimi was in some trouble up here for being outspoken on the changes that had occurred below since he left.
He started speaking again on those earthly changes and some of the listeners got up and left so Jimi [JH] said " excuse me for taking some of your sweet time," then continued
" you can leave if you want to we just jamming".
Narrator [in heaven] Jimi were you patriotic?
JH- "We are all Americans" I was in the army you know, so I try to respect my country when I can".
Narrator- Jimi How do you respond to criticism that you are/were outspoken and had an overly direct way of speaking.
JH- "It's true I make social criticism and sometimes criticize large groups of people." But you will notice I don't "dis" individuals and try to be kind and nonjudgmental to cats around me whatever their thing might be."
Narrator- How do you think of the progress made by Black Americans since you left?
JH- Black Doctors, lawyers and Politicians are great for us and good for America. But we still have too many black young men in prison for a long time, that needs addressed. There is also a lot of strife between Black people and in Black families. We need to work together to comfort each others and to be sympathetic to those still struggling up the ladder.
Also we haven't done much for American Indians whose problems are still under the radar of most Americans. I do give accolades to President Obama for settling part of one of the reparations lawsuits. I point out that I didn't get any of those reparations up here [that's a joke], I am part Indian you know.
Narrator- what do you think of the Health care crisis in America?
JH- I didn't take good enough care of myself to be able to express an opinion on that.
Narrator- Any specific criticisms of America in 2010?
JH- Too many active Wars being aggressively pursed by Americans. I don't like mechanical drones overhead shooting at people. Murder and killing are real bad man but at least if done face to face it forces us to feel and hurt. Killing can easily be justified logically by the strong over the weak, the books are full of good reasons to kill each other. You know my music is my philosophy, but I believe we can bring peace and love to the world without violence through music. Experience teaches us that War is not the answer.
Narrator-Jimi you sound as if you are against book learning
JH- No way, I advise students to study and attend school, especially young black men. However, I think experience trumps logic and book learning in real life. Also concerning young black men in school, don't get expelled like I did by getting caught holding a white girls hand in the cafeteria.
Me, your author, tentatively- Mr. Hendrix- do you ever play up here?
General laughter follows
JH- Be cool, He's new.
I jam with Elmo James extended session for days and days. Nothing is planned or scheduled but keep your ears and your heart open and you will hear us. I'll play Electric Church Red House for you.
Narrator- any final thoughts on the scene down on earth Jimi?
JH- I saw a TV commercial with some wealthy black Americans worrying about identity theft. Far out, I guess things have come about full circle since I left.
end
JH
for Jimi Hendrix
the world's best guitar player ever
For Black History Month 2010
fiction
edward w pritchard
Fourty years ago when he left us, Jimi Hendrix said " If I don't see you no more in this world, I'll see you in heaven one day." So when I went over the rainbow I looked him up and stopped for a visit.
Jimi was arguing a little when I got there, with some Hippies calling them passive and hard headed; so I just stood and listened respectfully. Apparently Jimi was in some trouble up here for being outspoken on the changes that had occurred below since he left.
He started speaking again on those earthly changes and some of the listeners got up and left so Jimi [JH] said " excuse me for taking some of your sweet time," then continued
" you can leave if you want to we just jamming".
Narrator [in heaven] Jimi were you patriotic?
JH- "We are all Americans" I was in the army you know, so I try to respect my country when I can".
Narrator- Jimi How do you respond to criticism that you are/were outspoken and had an overly direct way of speaking.
JH- "It's true I make social criticism and sometimes criticize large groups of people." But you will notice I don't "dis" individuals and try to be kind and nonjudgmental to cats around me whatever their thing might be."
Narrator- How do you think of the progress made by Black Americans since you left?
JH- Black Doctors, lawyers and Politicians are great for us and good for America. But we still have too many black young men in prison for a long time, that needs addressed. There is also a lot of strife between Black people and in Black families. We need to work together to comfort each others and to be sympathetic to those still struggling up the ladder.
Also we haven't done much for American Indians whose problems are still under the radar of most Americans. I do give accolades to President Obama for settling part of one of the reparations lawsuits. I point out that I didn't get any of those reparations up here [that's a joke], I am part Indian you know.
Narrator- what do you think of the Health care crisis in America?
JH- I didn't take good enough care of myself to be able to express an opinion on that.
Narrator- Any specific criticisms of America in 2010?
JH- Too many active Wars being aggressively pursed by Americans. I don't like mechanical drones overhead shooting at people. Murder and killing are real bad man but at least if done face to face it forces us to feel and hurt. Killing can easily be justified logically by the strong over the weak, the books are full of good reasons to kill each other. You know my music is my philosophy, but I believe we can bring peace and love to the world without violence through music. Experience teaches us that War is not the answer.
Narrator-Jimi you sound as if you are against book learning
JH- No way, I advise students to study and attend school, especially young black men. However, I think experience trumps logic and book learning in real life. Also concerning young black men in school, don't get expelled like I did by getting caught holding a white girls hand in the cafeteria.
Me, your author, tentatively- Mr. Hendrix- do you ever play up here?
General laughter follows
JH- Be cool, He's new.
I jam with Elmo James extended session for days and days. Nothing is planned or scheduled but keep your ears and your heart open and you will hear us. I'll play Electric Church Red House for you.
Narrator- any final thoughts on the scene down on earth Jimi?
JH- I saw a TV commercial with some wealthy black Americans worrying about identity theft. Far out, I guess things have come about full circle since I left.
end
JH
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
Gabby
the beats
Part 4
fiction
edward w pritchard
reader see first- Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
As Gabby descended the steep steps leaving Hanks, Beverly was playing "Ohio" by Crosby Stills and Nash one of the darker pieces of music from the Hippy years. Gabby was sad and lonely and already missed Beverly. When Gabby was with Beverly the world's disorder was distant. Although the piano music could still be heard as Gabby walked toward her car; she needed the company of another friend to get her out of the silent windy night.
Returning to the School of Business Gabby went to find her work friend Bill, the janitor. Bill was a fellow beat, a jazz lover, anti-corporate and he and Gabby often teamed together against the University's bureaucracy.
Bill drove Gabby up the steep hill, following the path the Ohio National Guard had marched 40 years ago today as they advanced on the students. The security department's golf cart they rode in was plush, and warm, and stable, even in the gusting winds. Bill maneuvered to within a few respectful feet of where Gabby's coordinates indicated William Schroeder had fallen after being shot by an Ohio guardsman. He lay dead on the ground covered by a morgue blanket and Gabby wrapped in Bill's large black trench coat was sitting on the exact spot. While at the school of business earlier, talking with Craybo her super computer, Gabby had decided to come here at midnight to experience the increase in wind speed herself. Aloft the winds were strong, blowing and bending the nearby trees at the top of the ridge, but at ground level a cooling breeze carried a touch of Spring. Sitting respectfully, observing a few other mourners with candles, Gabby had a thought that her computer Craybo had arranged the last eight hours to put her here at 12;10 AM May 04, 2010.
Bill was concerned for Gabby. He didn't want to leave her alone but his girlfriend would be upset, for she was easily jealous. Gabby's mood was dark and ominous.
Bill decided to break a cardinal rule of the Ohio Conference Caber Association, and bring a woman to the pregame meal. This years conference tournament for the caber throw was today at 9AM here at Kent State and the team was camping out near the athletic field, across the commons. Six other teams were also there but some of the participants had chose to spend the night in local hotels because of the cold winds. The Kent State group was just beginning the pregame midnight meal when Bill and his guest arrived. Bill threw the heavy caber for KSU so him and Gabby were made welcome despite the no women tradition.
Gabby's somber mood vanished as she ate two plates full of potato salad and picked at the ribs. After Bill left she slept cozy and warm in the tent, surrounded by large snoring athletes. Because of the overeating she slept in dreamless sleep.
Gabby awoke at dawn to the sound of the thumping cabers as the men lined up to begin the pre-meet throws. Some of the teams formed circles and began exercising and sprinting to the first rays of the sun. Word was spreading that because of the high winds several records could be broken today.
As she watched the caber throws and the danger to the men from the careening heavy poles, Gabby sat at the scorers table and began to outline her thoughts on the connections between the Wounded Knee incident, Kent State shootings and Jackson State shootings Craybo had alerted her to, and the increase in wind speed and the Gaia connection.
Noting the Kent State deaths, Gabby wrote:
April 22, 1970 US Troops into Cambodia first time beyond Viet Nam , not an invasion says President
April 22, 1970- first earth day-purpose heighten awareness, annual event
April 30-1970 Ohio State-students chased with shot guns
May 04, 1970 4 dead Ohio, protesting Cambodia invasion
June 29 1970- US troops pulled from Cambodia
Before she returned to the tent to sleep some more Gabby wrote,
ghost dance-1890- what did it mean?
computer, artificial intelligence uses logic to predict
people use intuition and experience and then they take action
To stop 2020 Bloomfield Michigan shootings:
earth day April 22, 1970 20 million Americans participate
earth day 2009 one billion people world wide celebrate earth day
earth day 2011- an environmental and peace movement for the entire planet.
Gabby yawned and decided over the next 10 years to join the movement in earth day and use her computer skills to awaken people to Gaia theory. Gabby returned to the tent and let the warming morning breeze fan her as she began to dream to the sound of the thudding cabers and thumps of the weighty dancing college athletes.
end part 4
see also Beverly
"The Hippy" part 5
the Hippy's devolve
Gabby
the beats
Part 4
fiction
edward w pritchard
reader see first- Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
As Gabby descended the steep steps leaving Hanks, Beverly was playing "Ohio" by Crosby Stills and Nash one of the darker pieces of music from the Hippy years. Gabby was sad and lonely and already missed Beverly. When Gabby was with Beverly the world's disorder was distant. Although the piano music could still be heard as Gabby walked toward her car; she needed the company of another friend to get her out of the silent windy night.
Returning to the School of Business Gabby went to find her work friend Bill, the janitor. Bill was a fellow beat, a jazz lover, anti-corporate and he and Gabby often teamed together against the University's bureaucracy.
Bill drove Gabby up the steep hill, following the path the Ohio National Guard had marched 40 years ago today as they advanced on the students. The security department's golf cart they rode in was plush, and warm, and stable, even in the gusting winds. Bill maneuvered to within a few respectful feet of where Gabby's coordinates indicated William Schroeder had fallen after being shot by an Ohio guardsman. He lay dead on the ground covered by a morgue blanket and Gabby wrapped in Bill's large black trench coat was sitting on the exact spot. While at the school of business earlier, talking with Craybo her super computer, Gabby had decided to come here at midnight to experience the increase in wind speed herself. Aloft the winds were strong, blowing and bending the nearby trees at the top of the ridge, but at ground level a cooling breeze carried a touch of Spring. Sitting respectfully, observing a few other mourners with candles, Gabby had a thought that her computer Craybo had arranged the last eight hours to put her here at 12;10 AM May 04, 2010.
Bill was concerned for Gabby. He didn't want to leave her alone but his girlfriend would be upset, for she was easily jealous. Gabby's mood was dark and ominous.
Bill decided to break a cardinal rule of the Ohio Conference Caber Association, and bring a woman to the pregame meal. This years conference tournament for the caber throw was today at 9AM here at Kent State and the team was camping out near the athletic field, across the commons. Six other teams were also there but some of the participants had chose to spend the night in local hotels because of the cold winds. The Kent State group was just beginning the pregame midnight meal when Bill and his guest arrived. Bill threw the heavy caber for KSU so him and Gabby were made welcome despite the no women tradition.
Gabby's somber mood vanished as she ate two plates full of potato salad and picked at the ribs. After Bill left she slept cozy and warm in the tent, surrounded by large snoring athletes. Because of the overeating she slept in dreamless sleep.
Gabby awoke at dawn to the sound of the thumping cabers as the men lined up to begin the pre-meet throws. Some of the teams formed circles and began exercising and sprinting to the first rays of the sun. Word was spreading that because of the high winds several records could be broken today.
As she watched the caber throws and the danger to the men from the careening heavy poles, Gabby sat at the scorers table and began to outline her thoughts on the connections between the Wounded Knee incident, Kent State shootings and Jackson State shootings Craybo had alerted her to, and the increase in wind speed and the Gaia connection.
Noting the Kent State deaths, Gabby wrote:
April 22, 1970 US Troops into Cambodia first time beyond Viet Nam , not an invasion says President
April 22, 1970- first earth day-purpose heighten awareness, annual event
April 30-1970 Ohio State-students chased with shot guns
May 04, 1970 4 dead Ohio, protesting Cambodia invasion
June 29 1970- US troops pulled from Cambodia
Before she returned to the tent to sleep some more Gabby wrote,
ghost dance-1890- what did it mean?
computer, artificial intelligence uses logic to predict
people use intuition and experience and then they take action
To stop 2020 Bloomfield Michigan shootings:
earth day April 22, 1970 20 million Americans participate
earth day 2009 one billion people world wide celebrate earth day
earth day 2011- an environmental and peace movement for the entire planet.
Gabby yawned and decided over the next 10 years to join the movement in earth day and use her computer skills to awaken people to Gaia theory. Gabby returned to the tent and let the warming morning breeze fan her as she began to dream to the sound of the thudding cabers and thumps of the weighty dancing college athletes.
end part 4
see also Beverly
"The Hippy" part 5
the Hippy's devolve
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Taxes and Fees Just Kept On going Up
Taxes and Fees Just Kept On going Up
fiction
edward w pritchard
Mrs Carson was unable to drive her car because she waited more than seven days to make the annual renewal of the License plates on her 1967 Olds Cutlass. Being impeccably honorable she would not drive the vehicle the four miles to her home in Akron, Ohio with the expired plates. She decided to sit and wait at the license renewal office [DMV] and pray for guidance. At length she decided to contact the nearby Mayor of the next town North from her town, which was Cuyahoga Falls, and ask for his assistance; since she could not afford a lawyer.
Mrs. Carson was 78, lived alone and had been sick at home the last 10 days. She had been unable to get into the DMV to renew her plates, the deadline to renew had passed, and the Lady at the counter at the DMV had explained there would be a twenty dollar late fee to renew [ since the 7 day late grace period had ran]. The seven day grace period had been granted just this year to cover contingencies such as sickness or lack of funds to pay the fifty five dollars or so it now cost to renew the license tags on vehicles in Ohio. Although the $20 was new it had been duly considered and passed by the Ohio legislature and would be equally enforced against all Ohio Citizens. In Ohio, if one drove with expired plates, that is had no renewal sticker displayed on the vehicle, traffic fees were imposed of $75 to $250 depending on local ordinance and a lot of factors such as attitude of the driver, ability to afford counsel and ability to pay. If an officer stopped a driver for expired plates, they then had probable cause to check for burnt out bulbs, check past record, check in the trunk, visually inspect the car, and if they felt that sufficient suspicion existed that night out on a dark road; check in a glove box or at times a locked briefcase. Naturally all officers involved had been trained to enforce the regulations equally against rich and poor. The fines imposed from the traffic violations were a good source of fee income and there had once been an article in the Cleveland, Ohio Bankers Association Magazine that sited the innovative attempts by local government to raise fee income with the implication that local banker's needed to consider how to raise their user fees, assessments, and fines because such fees were becoming "sticky" upward and difficult to collect because of competition between government and private enterprise. Arguments such whether there was a correlation between organizational life functioning skills between rich and poor and ability to cope with the nuisance of superfluous government interventions had not been considered because State government officials didn't consider $20 to be that much money in the scheme of things.
In addition to the license fees and late fees there was an E-check, an attempt to monitor cars impact on the environment in large cities; and to partially counter the effects on the eco-system by monstrous development of suburban housing.The E-check fee had once been twenty dollars to administer but citizen backlash based on it being a regressive tax and unfair to the poor, the elderly and those with older cars had caused the fee to be waived. Since there was no longer an e-check fee of twenty dollars, the new fee of the late charge after 7 days was filling in the gap of lost revenue.
Mrs. Carson's, now sitting and waiting for divine intervention at one of the branches of the Ohio DMV, only source of income was social security and $20 was real money to her. Each month over the last 12 months since the last license renewal she had budgeted $4.90 to pay for the next license plate renewal. She had paid 4.60 per month last year, and if there was no raise in fees the difference between 4.60 and 4.90 times twelve, or 3.60 would be hers to buy something for the house with or for herself.
Mrs. Carson had arrived at the DMV at 9:00 AM sharp despite the snowy roads and snowy parking lot and was one of the first in line today. When Mrs. Carson found out about the new $20 fee from the nice lady at the DMV she asked for her options. Both the clerk and her supervisor had explained, using a prepared script the benefits of the fee to the State, locality and Mrs. Carson herself. The bottom line was that in Ohio the DMV's were a for profit business, employed local workers, and the rule was applied equally against all citizens of the 88 counties in Ohio. The clerk at the counter had suggested she use her conscious in deciding if she should drive the vehicle home with expired plates. She did, and she decided not to drive the car. She then sat down in the empty lobby and decided to pray for guidance.
While sitting. the image of the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had flashed in her mind. He was't her Mayor but he had a reputation of helping those in need. Several times she had seen him on the TV and local news helping in various situations.
After her inspiration, another woman heard about Mrs. Carson's scenario and had sent a text message to the Mayor's office of Cuyahoga Falls explaining the situation and asking him to please call back.
About fifteen minutes later the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had walked into the Akron DMV. He was hard to miss for he had bright red hair and an engaging, boyish smile. He was about 63, younger than Mrs. Carson had thought and as soon as he sat next to her she felt reassured. The Mayor had a way of focusing all his attention on the person he was with that was sincere, and destined to make him a lot of lasting friends. After the Mayor heard the situation with the twenty dollar fee, rather than go up to the clerks at the counter and throw around his celebrity and influence, the Mayor decided to just sit quietly with Mrs. Carson and think on his next move. Over the next 30 minutes all twenty lobby seats at the DMV filled up with supporters of Mrs.Carson.
At length a local police officer was summoned less there be a civil disturbance similar to Shay's Rebellion. The police officer being older and experienced in such matters assessed the situation and decided to do nothing and asked if he could also just have a seat while he waited for further orders.
In time, a rumor began to spread throughout the DMV that a Cleveland [ Ohio] TV station was sending a crew down to investigate, promote and incite the local grassroots tax rebellion started by Mrs.Carson the elderly widow. When Mrs. Carson heard about the TV coverage, she decided to try to compromise because she did not wish her neighbors, the employees of the local DMV to suffer with their bosses over her problems. With the help of the Mayor a compromise was reached where a one time extraordinary extension of 3 extra days could be granted to Mrs. Carson due to the unseeability of her recent illness.
After the plates and tags were reissued and the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had helped her properly place the tag on the snowy car in the snowy cold parking lot; Mrs. Carson asked the Mayor one small favor after thanking him for his prompt assistance.
The Mayor was asked to use his office and staff to look into the fairness of a twenty dollar fee imposed regardless of ability to pay or situation.
After some consideration the Mayor agreed to pursue the matter. In truth he was having trouble understanding a near 40% increase in the cost to renew a license plate after 7 days beyond a mandatory deadline. Although the Mayor was a busy man with a full agenda he decided at last to look into the matter when Mrs. Carson reminded him that although it had worked for her to pray for divine guidance in the matter, some citizens might not know how to do so or feel such a matter was worthwhile to bring to God's attention.
Mrs. Carson before she slowly and carefully drove off in the 67 Cutlass decided to next year, starting with her next social security check, to budget $6.50 a month for the license renewal; and being optimistic hoped for no raise in license fees over the next year, so she could spend the few extra dollars on something nice for her home.
fiction
edward w pritchard
Mrs Carson was unable to drive her car because she waited more than seven days to make the annual renewal of the License plates on her 1967 Olds Cutlass. Being impeccably honorable she would not drive the vehicle the four miles to her home in Akron, Ohio with the expired plates. She decided to sit and wait at the license renewal office [DMV] and pray for guidance. At length she decided to contact the nearby Mayor of the next town North from her town, which was Cuyahoga Falls, and ask for his assistance; since she could not afford a lawyer.
Mrs. Carson was 78, lived alone and had been sick at home the last 10 days. She had been unable to get into the DMV to renew her plates, the deadline to renew had passed, and the Lady at the counter at the DMV had explained there would be a twenty dollar late fee to renew [ since the 7 day late grace period had ran]. The seven day grace period had been granted just this year to cover contingencies such as sickness or lack of funds to pay the fifty five dollars or so it now cost to renew the license tags on vehicles in Ohio. Although the $20 was new it had been duly considered and passed by the Ohio legislature and would be equally enforced against all Ohio Citizens. In Ohio, if one drove with expired plates, that is had no renewal sticker displayed on the vehicle, traffic fees were imposed of $75 to $250 depending on local ordinance and a lot of factors such as attitude of the driver, ability to afford counsel and ability to pay. If an officer stopped a driver for expired plates, they then had probable cause to check for burnt out bulbs, check past record, check in the trunk, visually inspect the car, and if they felt that sufficient suspicion existed that night out on a dark road; check in a glove box or at times a locked briefcase. Naturally all officers involved had been trained to enforce the regulations equally against rich and poor. The fines imposed from the traffic violations were a good source of fee income and there had once been an article in the Cleveland, Ohio Bankers Association Magazine that sited the innovative attempts by local government to raise fee income with the implication that local banker's needed to consider how to raise their user fees, assessments, and fines because such fees were becoming "sticky" upward and difficult to collect because of competition between government and private enterprise. Arguments such whether there was a correlation between organizational life functioning skills between rich and poor and ability to cope with the nuisance of superfluous government interventions had not been considered because State government officials didn't consider $20 to be that much money in the scheme of things.
In addition to the license fees and late fees there was an E-check, an attempt to monitor cars impact on the environment in large cities; and to partially counter the effects on the eco-system by monstrous development of suburban housing.The E-check fee had once been twenty dollars to administer but citizen backlash based on it being a regressive tax and unfair to the poor, the elderly and those with older cars had caused the fee to be waived. Since there was no longer an e-check fee of twenty dollars, the new fee of the late charge after 7 days was filling in the gap of lost revenue.
Mrs. Carson's, now sitting and waiting for divine intervention at one of the branches of the Ohio DMV, only source of income was social security and $20 was real money to her. Each month over the last 12 months since the last license renewal she had budgeted $4.90 to pay for the next license plate renewal. She had paid 4.60 per month last year, and if there was no raise in fees the difference between 4.60 and 4.90 times twelve, or 3.60 would be hers to buy something for the house with or for herself.
Mrs. Carson had arrived at the DMV at 9:00 AM sharp despite the snowy roads and snowy parking lot and was one of the first in line today. When Mrs. Carson found out about the new $20 fee from the nice lady at the DMV she asked for her options. Both the clerk and her supervisor had explained, using a prepared script the benefits of the fee to the State, locality and Mrs. Carson herself. The bottom line was that in Ohio the DMV's were a for profit business, employed local workers, and the rule was applied equally against all citizens of the 88 counties in Ohio. The clerk at the counter had suggested she use her conscious in deciding if she should drive the vehicle home with expired plates. She did, and she decided not to drive the car. She then sat down in the empty lobby and decided to pray for guidance.
While sitting. the image of the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had flashed in her mind. He was't her Mayor but he had a reputation of helping those in need. Several times she had seen him on the TV and local news helping in various situations.
After her inspiration, another woman heard about Mrs. Carson's scenario and had sent a text message to the Mayor's office of Cuyahoga Falls explaining the situation and asking him to please call back.
About fifteen minutes later the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had walked into the Akron DMV. He was hard to miss for he had bright red hair and an engaging, boyish smile. He was about 63, younger than Mrs. Carson had thought and as soon as he sat next to her she felt reassured. The Mayor had a way of focusing all his attention on the person he was with that was sincere, and destined to make him a lot of lasting friends. After the Mayor heard the situation with the twenty dollar fee, rather than go up to the clerks at the counter and throw around his celebrity and influence, the Mayor decided to just sit quietly with Mrs. Carson and think on his next move. Over the next 30 minutes all twenty lobby seats at the DMV filled up with supporters of Mrs.Carson.
At length a local police officer was summoned less there be a civil disturbance similar to Shay's Rebellion. The police officer being older and experienced in such matters assessed the situation and decided to do nothing and asked if he could also just have a seat while he waited for further orders.
In time, a rumor began to spread throughout the DMV that a Cleveland [ Ohio] TV station was sending a crew down to investigate, promote and incite the local grassroots tax rebellion started by Mrs.Carson the elderly widow. When Mrs. Carson heard about the TV coverage, she decided to try to compromise because she did not wish her neighbors, the employees of the local DMV to suffer with their bosses over her problems. With the help of the Mayor a compromise was reached where a one time extraordinary extension of 3 extra days could be granted to Mrs. Carson due to the unseeability of her recent illness.
After the plates and tags were reissued and the Mayor of Cuyahoga Falls had helped her properly place the tag on the snowy car in the snowy cold parking lot; Mrs. Carson asked the Mayor one small favor after thanking him for his prompt assistance.
The Mayor was asked to use his office and staff to look into the fairness of a twenty dollar fee imposed regardless of ability to pay or situation.
After some consideration the Mayor agreed to pursue the matter. In truth he was having trouble understanding a near 40% increase in the cost to renew a license plate after 7 days beyond a mandatory deadline. Although the Mayor was a busy man with a full agenda he decided at last to look into the matter when Mrs. Carson reminded him that although it had worked for her to pray for divine guidance in the matter, some citizens might not know how to do so or feel such a matter was worthwhile to bring to God's attention.
Mrs. Carson before she slowly and carefully drove off in the 67 Cutlass decided to next year, starting with her next social security check, to budget $6.50 a month for the license renewal; and being optimistic hoped for no raise in license fees over the next year, so she could spend the few extra dollars on something nice for her home.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
The Wandering Beggar who Impersonated Jesus
The Wandering Beggar who Impersonated Jesus
fiction
edward w pritchard
I went insane from February 25, 1922 until September 09, 1922 after which God relieved me from the burden of my madness.
During that time between February and September 1922 I walked around the Pontus region of what is now Turkey in a long red robe and I thought I was Jesus Christ. While I walked those eight months the entire coast line along Anatolia [Turkey] on the Black Sea was suffering from war, atrocities, and genocide.
I was born a Sunni Muslim, and am now a Sunni Muslim. When I returned from last nights fishing for anchovies on the Black Sea, I saw that our village and several others along the coast were ablaze. Once ashore I was part of the terror and chaos evident all across the Pontus region. For several years the soldiers of the Turkish National movement had been at war with Armenians and Greeks near Tribizon and others areas of Anatolia. My wife was Greek Orthodox and I feared gravely for her safety.
When I arrived at the shore my house had been doused with kerosene and burned to the ground and my wife was dead. I fished from my brother-in -laws boat and as I ran to the boat for assistance, the boat was wildly burning and my brother-in-law was dead also. In a five minute period everything I cared about had been destroyed. The only thing I had left in the world were the clothes on my back and they smelled of anchovies from the nights fishing. I was however not alone in my grief and misery, for more than twenty villages had been torched and thousands were said to be dead because of the soldiers.
The Greco-Turkish War had been going on since 1919. The Greeks had fought with the victorious British in World War One and the Greeks had been promised as spoils of War large tracts of land in Turkey. The Ottoman empire that had ruled Turkey for hundreds of years had allied themselves with the losing side, the Germans and the antiquated corpse of the Ottoman empire was collapsing at the end of the first world war. As the Allies partitioned Turkey our great leader Mustafa Kemal [Atatürk] in a series of counter attacks over several years successfully established the counter movement to restore a Turkish State. Following the defensive stage of the wars with Britain Greece and others, the Turkish forces began a series of offensive campaigns to drive the Greeks and some say the Armenians, an ancient ethnic group, off Turkish soil. The Western newspapers began to call the war genocide against the Greeks, the Greek Diaspora, and of course our people called it the War of Turkish Liberation. There were numerous atrocities by all soldiers but by the time of my wife's death most of the brutality was done by Turks against other Turkish ethnic groups such as the Greeks and Armenians living in Turkey sometimes for hundreds of years. In the end the Turkish Liberation was successful, the allies were driven out and the defunct Ottoman Empire was succeeded by the Republic of Turkey.
In February 1922 the war evolved to a series of the campaigns against the Greeks in the Pontus region along the Black Sea. Both sides fought like a fierce family feud, but the remaining Greeks had no organized army in the area, and the horror and cruelty of the campaign was indescribable and should remain unmentionable, except to say that our ancient relatives in this area, the Hittites, could have done no worse at being savage and brutal in the campaign against civilians.
The man who had been ultimately responsible for the terror resulting in my wife's death and the burning of the villages on February 22 was Nureddin Pasha. The western newspapers, sympathetic to the Greeks of course, called Pasha brutal and ruthless, but he was an effective leader in the Liberation's cause. He sent soldiers with orders to arrest me as I stood in front of my burning house. I was suspected as a Greek sympathizer because of wife being a Greek Orthodox and me working on a Greek owned fishing boat.
Some of the soldiers sent to arrest me knew me and took pity on me because of the horror and terror of my situation. Since I smelled of anchovies from the fishing they allowed me to wash and brought me a red robe to change into that had been left by another prisoner at the temporary jail. I had been up all night from the anchovy fishing and after they gave me a little water i dropped into a deep sleep.
I awoke when Nureddin Pasha himself entered my cell to interrogate me. I was not afraid, for I had a sense of calm like I had never experienced before and I believed myself to be Jesus Christ. My wife was a religious person and in our twelve years of marriage told me about Christianity, sometimes read examples from the bible to me, and often told me about the sermon on the mount. Although I have always been a Sunni Muslim, before I met my wife I was not a religious man, and now I am ashamed to say, I was at times, especially in my youth, a man who did not live up to the ideals and ethical teachings of the Muslim religion or the little my wife told me of her religion. My wife after our marriage encouraged me to be a good practicing Muslim and never attempted to proselytize me. I am sorry to report however, that after our marriage, and in spite of the piety of my wife as a Greek Christian, I failed to live up to the standards of the example of religious and ethical conduct provided by other Sunni Muslims in our village and on the Anchovy fishing boats. My entire adult life I was a often a vulgar course man concerned only with my own interests.
Pasha knew I was a Muslim and I don't think he suspected me of treason or being a sympathizer. Although he was ruthless in battle on a one to one level he was reasonable in his conversation and told me he was sorry for my wife's death, a terrible tragedy of the war.
I replied, speaking as Jesus, that many had died today and there were many now living who had lost more loved ones than I had. This seemed to strike a cord with Pasha. I continued we must all pray for peace to come immediately. Pasha asked me if I was a holy man. I replied no, I am only a fisherman who wanted peace and tranquility to return to the Black Sea area and Pontus [ our homeland] in particular.
Nureddin Pasha asked me to travel with his army to provide comfort and solace to those injured on all sides of the necessary but brutal war. The man called a butcher by Western newspapers was asking me to provide humanitarian aide. I was being asked to travel with the man and his army responsible for my wife's death. At some level I knew I was not Jesus Christ, but I decided to go to where I could do the most good and I decided to follow the Liberation Army as a soldier of peace.
I told Pasha I would go but I also told him I was not Strau the Anchovy fisherman but was Jesus Christ. Pasha no doubt thought I was in shock from my wife's death. Pasha, himself a Muslim, then asked me to bless him despite his failings; which I did.
Pasha ordered me released from jail, had me fed and provided with some of the necessities of life, and I was ready to travel; although I continued to wear the red robe and now believed I was Jesus Christ.
end part 1
Part 2
As I traveled with the soldiers of the Turkish National Movement under the persona of Jesus Christ, wearing the red robe, I kept very busy with my humanitarian efforts. Following only the few dictates that I remembered from what my dead wife had taught me such as blessed are the meek, blessed are they who mourn, blessed are the peacemakers and blessed are those who hunger and thirst; I filled my days with attending to the injured, sick, broken hearted and those displaced by war. All around me thousands were dieing and each waking hour I was immersed in providing comfort to the multitudes of suffering people regardless of creed, nationality or culpability. Although I didn't fight, or know of the battle plans or objectives of the aggressive armies, I was always the first to assist the injured. I would work following a battle or campaign, throughout the summer of 1922 , until I would collapse from exhaustion. I always put others above myself, never judged and I counseled Greeks, Armenians and Turks. If a young soldier couldn't sleep or suffered from nightmares because of what he had heard or done I would sit with him, give him water and seek to provide comfort. Of particular concern to me was the suffering of children of which there was much and I was fearless and tireless in my efforts to bring them solace.
Often when Nureddin Pasha's soldiers would join with other freedom fighter, other soldiers would seek to stop my giving aid and comfort to their enemies and they often threatened me with death. I was by now not afraid to die, due to the death of my wife, my having taking on the persona of Jesus Christ and I no longer cared what happened to myself. However, Pasha himself would often come to my aide and censure my critics. Pasha felt that my efforts were God's work; he and his men handled the horrible work of war, I alone was to do the work of mercy. This continued for eight months until September 09, 1922.
In the ancient town of Smyrna [ formerly Izmir home of the world's most beautiful mosaic tile] a death occurred which roused me from my delusion that I was Jesus Christ. It was a terrible tragedy, true only one man had died but when I heard of the horrible death of one man; my true self and identity exploded back into being and I was again Strau and not Jesus.
Kafafatis, known as Chrysostomes of Smyrna was a Greek holy man and an orthodox preacher. When the Turkish liberation recaptured Smyrna in a ten day period in September 1922 many terrible things happened. It is difficult to assign blame for there had been three years of terror between the Turks and Greeks prior to the ten day period. Now however, it was Greeks turn to suffer. Chrysostomes was an out spoken critic of the Turks and rather than let the Western press in Ireland or Athens criticize the Turkish Liberation Army from a safe distance, Chrysostomes chose to do it from the pulpit. Chrysostomes was captured, tortured in a barber chair in a particularly brutal and macabre fashion and left to die in an alley. When I heard later that night of what had happened I was immediately a man again and not Jesus Christ. I was not judging anyone but I was no longer Jesus.
When I asked my section leader in the Liberation army for permission to return to my home village he said he that would have to be cleared with Nureddin Pasha, for I was a favorite of his, and he was a powerful and influential man.
I went to see Pasha the next day at a small tavern in Captured Smyrna, being used as a temporary courtroom. Pasha was interrogating a young Greek boy when I walked in and the boy's Mother was kneeling fearful in the rear of the tavern for fear of the fate of her son.
I listened from the rear of the room, sitting next to the Mother:
Pasha: "you threw an egg at my soldiers yesterday, but had bad aim and missed"
Boy: defiantly, "yes General"
Pasha; "better than a rock I suppose"
boy: calming down "yes sir"
Pasha" " do you study hard at school?"
boy "when I can there is much interruption by the fighting"
Pasha: "good study hard, I never was able to continue my education something I regret. You may go but don't throw things at my soldiers."
Pasha seeing me next to the Mother: "Strau my friend I hear you want my leave my command, Have I done something to offend you too, my only friend I have left." He laughed an ancient sad laugh and then continued:
Pasha again: " I have lost control of my men" why did they have to kill him in a barber's chair" [ pasha was called the bearded for he was once the only modern Otttoman officer with a beard]
Pasha: again "Strau i know little of Christianity but it seems I am now the devil, everything evil that is done is blamed on me"
Me speaking " Pasha I am no longer Jesus Christ or a christian"
Pasha: "Pity you were a comfort to many"
Pasha: "Where will you go"
me: "back to my village"
Him "i am afraid not much is left of that area"
Pasha: "Here take this- you were my only soldier who never looted or complained for more pay, in fact your section leader tells me you have never been paid, it is not right for me to not pay my only soldier of peace, please take this from me to start your life again"
Pasha gave me a moderate amount of silver, which i took.
Pasha: "could you do me one favor my friend?"
me: "if i can"
he: "bless me again"
me "i am no longer Jesus"
he: "then bless me as a Muslim"
me: "i am afraid i don't know our religion well enough to know if it is permitted"
he: "then bless me as a fisherman"
me: "i bless you Nureddin Pasha"
I left Smyrna and returned to the Black sea Coast near my old village. There I lived as a wandering beggar until June 23, 1923 when the treaty of Lusanne was signed officially ending World War One for the Ottoman Empire and marking the birth of modern Turkey. One of the provisions was all of the Greeks along the Black Sea [ and elsewhere] were repatriated to Greece and the Turks from Greece came back to our country. Most leaving or returning lost everything. I was one of the only Turks in our area who spoke Greece, which I of course had learned from my wife, and on her brother's fishing boat. So i again gave humanitarian aid to the new arrivals as a translator and go between since the native Turks along the Black Sea had difficulty understanding the returning Turks because of their heavy Greek accent.
After a few months of dealing in the day to day world of business for the new arrivals I decided to become an anchovy fisherman again; something that I still do many years later. I often sit on the anchovy boat at night and study the Koran. As i watch the nets, and the stars, if it is bright because of the illumination of the stars or the moon; I take the opportunity to learn a little of the beauty of the Muslim religion and the exquisite language of the Koran.
Our country of Turkey is united again after years of violence. As i stare at the distant stars, I often pray to and thank God, speaking as Strau the anchovy fisherman, that there is peace and tranquility again along the coast of the Black Sea and in the Pontus region of modern Turkey.
fiction
edward w pritchard
I went insane from February 25, 1922 until September 09, 1922 after which God relieved me from the burden of my madness.
During that time between February and September 1922 I walked around the Pontus region of what is now Turkey in a long red robe and I thought I was Jesus Christ. While I walked those eight months the entire coast line along Anatolia [Turkey] on the Black Sea was suffering from war, atrocities, and genocide.
I was born a Sunni Muslim, and am now a Sunni Muslim. When I returned from last nights fishing for anchovies on the Black Sea, I saw that our village and several others along the coast were ablaze. Once ashore I was part of the terror and chaos evident all across the Pontus region. For several years the soldiers of the Turkish National movement had been at war with Armenians and Greeks near Tribizon and others areas of Anatolia. My wife was Greek Orthodox and I feared gravely for her safety.
When I arrived at the shore my house had been doused with kerosene and burned to the ground and my wife was dead. I fished from my brother-in -laws boat and as I ran to the boat for assistance, the boat was wildly burning and my brother-in-law was dead also. In a five minute period everything I cared about had been destroyed. The only thing I had left in the world were the clothes on my back and they smelled of anchovies from the nights fishing. I was however not alone in my grief and misery, for more than twenty villages had been torched and thousands were said to be dead because of the soldiers.
The Greco-Turkish War had been going on since 1919. The Greeks had fought with the victorious British in World War One and the Greeks had been promised as spoils of War large tracts of land in Turkey. The Ottoman empire that had ruled Turkey for hundreds of years had allied themselves with the losing side, the Germans and the antiquated corpse of the Ottoman empire was collapsing at the end of the first world war. As the Allies partitioned Turkey our great leader Mustafa Kemal [Atatürk] in a series of counter attacks over several years successfully established the counter movement to restore a Turkish State. Following the defensive stage of the wars with Britain Greece and others, the Turkish forces began a series of offensive campaigns to drive the Greeks and some say the Armenians, an ancient ethnic group, off Turkish soil. The Western newspapers began to call the war genocide against the Greeks, the Greek Diaspora, and of course our people called it the War of Turkish Liberation. There were numerous atrocities by all soldiers but by the time of my wife's death most of the brutality was done by Turks against other Turkish ethnic groups such as the Greeks and Armenians living in Turkey sometimes for hundreds of years. In the end the Turkish Liberation was successful, the allies were driven out and the defunct Ottoman Empire was succeeded by the Republic of Turkey.
In February 1922 the war evolved to a series of the campaigns against the Greeks in the Pontus region along the Black Sea. Both sides fought like a fierce family feud, but the remaining Greeks had no organized army in the area, and the horror and cruelty of the campaign was indescribable and should remain unmentionable, except to say that our ancient relatives in this area, the Hittites, could have done no worse at being savage and brutal in the campaign against civilians.
The man who had been ultimately responsible for the terror resulting in my wife's death and the burning of the villages on February 22 was Nureddin Pasha. The western newspapers, sympathetic to the Greeks of course, called Pasha brutal and ruthless, but he was an effective leader in the Liberation's cause. He sent soldiers with orders to arrest me as I stood in front of my burning house. I was suspected as a Greek sympathizer because of wife being a Greek Orthodox and me working on a Greek owned fishing boat.
Some of the soldiers sent to arrest me knew me and took pity on me because of the horror and terror of my situation. Since I smelled of anchovies from the fishing they allowed me to wash and brought me a red robe to change into that had been left by another prisoner at the temporary jail. I had been up all night from the anchovy fishing and after they gave me a little water i dropped into a deep sleep.
I awoke when Nureddin Pasha himself entered my cell to interrogate me. I was not afraid, for I had a sense of calm like I had never experienced before and I believed myself to be Jesus Christ. My wife was a religious person and in our twelve years of marriage told me about Christianity, sometimes read examples from the bible to me, and often told me about the sermon on the mount. Although I have always been a Sunni Muslim, before I met my wife I was not a religious man, and now I am ashamed to say, I was at times, especially in my youth, a man who did not live up to the ideals and ethical teachings of the Muslim religion or the little my wife told me of her religion. My wife after our marriage encouraged me to be a good practicing Muslim and never attempted to proselytize me. I am sorry to report however, that after our marriage, and in spite of the piety of my wife as a Greek Christian, I failed to live up to the standards of the example of religious and ethical conduct provided by other Sunni Muslims in our village and on the Anchovy fishing boats. My entire adult life I was a often a vulgar course man concerned only with my own interests.
Pasha knew I was a Muslim and I don't think he suspected me of treason or being a sympathizer. Although he was ruthless in battle on a one to one level he was reasonable in his conversation and told me he was sorry for my wife's death, a terrible tragedy of the war.
I replied, speaking as Jesus, that many had died today and there were many now living who had lost more loved ones than I had. This seemed to strike a cord with Pasha. I continued we must all pray for peace to come immediately. Pasha asked me if I was a holy man. I replied no, I am only a fisherman who wanted peace and tranquility to return to the Black Sea area and Pontus [ our homeland] in particular.
Nureddin Pasha asked me to travel with his army to provide comfort and solace to those injured on all sides of the necessary but brutal war. The man called a butcher by Western newspapers was asking me to provide humanitarian aide. I was being asked to travel with the man and his army responsible for my wife's death. At some level I knew I was not Jesus Christ, but I decided to go to where I could do the most good and I decided to follow the Liberation Army as a soldier of peace.
I told Pasha I would go but I also told him I was not Strau the Anchovy fisherman but was Jesus Christ. Pasha no doubt thought I was in shock from my wife's death. Pasha, himself a Muslim, then asked me to bless him despite his failings; which I did.
Pasha ordered me released from jail, had me fed and provided with some of the necessities of life, and I was ready to travel; although I continued to wear the red robe and now believed I was Jesus Christ.
end part 1
Part 2
As I traveled with the soldiers of the Turkish National Movement under the persona of Jesus Christ, wearing the red robe, I kept very busy with my humanitarian efforts. Following only the few dictates that I remembered from what my dead wife had taught me such as blessed are the meek, blessed are they who mourn, blessed are the peacemakers and blessed are those who hunger and thirst; I filled my days with attending to the injured, sick, broken hearted and those displaced by war. All around me thousands were dieing and each waking hour I was immersed in providing comfort to the multitudes of suffering people regardless of creed, nationality or culpability. Although I didn't fight, or know of the battle plans or objectives of the aggressive armies, I was always the first to assist the injured. I would work following a battle or campaign, throughout the summer of 1922 , until I would collapse from exhaustion. I always put others above myself, never judged and I counseled Greeks, Armenians and Turks. If a young soldier couldn't sleep or suffered from nightmares because of what he had heard or done I would sit with him, give him water and seek to provide comfort. Of particular concern to me was the suffering of children of which there was much and I was fearless and tireless in my efforts to bring them solace.
Often when Nureddin Pasha's soldiers would join with other freedom fighter, other soldiers would seek to stop my giving aid and comfort to their enemies and they often threatened me with death. I was by now not afraid to die, due to the death of my wife, my having taking on the persona of Jesus Christ and I no longer cared what happened to myself. However, Pasha himself would often come to my aide and censure my critics. Pasha felt that my efforts were God's work; he and his men handled the horrible work of war, I alone was to do the work of mercy. This continued for eight months until September 09, 1922.
In the ancient town of Smyrna [ formerly Izmir home of the world's most beautiful mosaic tile] a death occurred which roused me from my delusion that I was Jesus Christ. It was a terrible tragedy, true only one man had died but when I heard of the horrible death of one man; my true self and identity exploded back into being and I was again Strau and not Jesus.
Kafafatis, known as Chrysostomes of Smyrna was a Greek holy man and an orthodox preacher. When the Turkish liberation recaptured Smyrna in a ten day period in September 1922 many terrible things happened. It is difficult to assign blame for there had been three years of terror between the Turks and Greeks prior to the ten day period. Now however, it was Greeks turn to suffer. Chrysostomes was an out spoken critic of the Turks and rather than let the Western press in Ireland or Athens criticize the Turkish Liberation Army from a safe distance, Chrysostomes chose to do it from the pulpit. Chrysostomes was captured, tortured in a barber chair in a particularly brutal and macabre fashion and left to die in an alley. When I heard later that night of what had happened I was immediately a man again and not Jesus Christ. I was not judging anyone but I was no longer Jesus.
When I asked my section leader in the Liberation army for permission to return to my home village he said he that would have to be cleared with Nureddin Pasha, for I was a favorite of his, and he was a powerful and influential man.
I went to see Pasha the next day at a small tavern in Captured Smyrna, being used as a temporary courtroom. Pasha was interrogating a young Greek boy when I walked in and the boy's Mother was kneeling fearful in the rear of the tavern for fear of the fate of her son.
I listened from the rear of the room, sitting next to the Mother:
Pasha: "you threw an egg at my soldiers yesterday, but had bad aim and missed"
Boy: defiantly, "yes General"
Pasha; "better than a rock I suppose"
boy: calming down "yes sir"
Pasha" " do you study hard at school?"
boy "when I can there is much interruption by the fighting"
Pasha: "good study hard, I never was able to continue my education something I regret. You may go but don't throw things at my soldiers."
Pasha seeing me next to the Mother: "Strau my friend I hear you want my leave my command, Have I done something to offend you too, my only friend I have left." He laughed an ancient sad laugh and then continued:
Pasha again: " I have lost control of my men" why did they have to kill him in a barber's chair" [ pasha was called the bearded for he was once the only modern Otttoman officer with a beard]
Pasha: again "Strau i know little of Christianity but it seems I am now the devil, everything evil that is done is blamed on me"
Me speaking " Pasha I am no longer Jesus Christ or a christian"
Pasha: "Pity you were a comfort to many"
Pasha: "Where will you go"
me: "back to my village"
Him "i am afraid not much is left of that area"
Pasha: "Here take this- you were my only soldier who never looted or complained for more pay, in fact your section leader tells me you have never been paid, it is not right for me to not pay my only soldier of peace, please take this from me to start your life again"
Pasha gave me a moderate amount of silver, which i took.
Pasha: "could you do me one favor my friend?"
me: "if i can"
he: "bless me again"
me "i am no longer Jesus"
he: "then bless me as a Muslim"
me: "i am afraid i don't know our religion well enough to know if it is permitted"
he: "then bless me as a fisherman"
me: "i bless you Nureddin Pasha"
I left Smyrna and returned to the Black sea Coast near my old village. There I lived as a wandering beggar until June 23, 1923 when the treaty of Lusanne was signed officially ending World War One for the Ottoman Empire and marking the birth of modern Turkey. One of the provisions was all of the Greeks along the Black Sea [ and elsewhere] were repatriated to Greece and the Turks from Greece came back to our country. Most leaving or returning lost everything. I was one of the only Turks in our area who spoke Greece, which I of course had learned from my wife, and on her brother's fishing boat. So i again gave humanitarian aid to the new arrivals as a translator and go between since the native Turks along the Black Sea had difficulty understanding the returning Turks because of their heavy Greek accent.
After a few months of dealing in the day to day world of business for the new arrivals I decided to become an anchovy fisherman again; something that I still do many years later. I often sit on the anchovy boat at night and study the Koran. As i watch the nets, and the stars, if it is bright because of the illumination of the stars or the moon; I take the opportunity to learn a little of the beauty of the Muslim religion and the exquisite language of the Koran.
Our country of Turkey is united again after years of violence. As i stare at the distant stars, I often pray to and thank God, speaking as Strau the anchovy fisherman, that there is peace and tranquility again along the coast of the Black Sea and in the Pontus region of modern Turkey.
The Young Woman and the Sea
fiction
edward w pritchard
The old man, a fisherman had saved his money his entire life and at the age of seventy had married a thirty year old bride and left his homeland of Cuba to take her back to her native land of America. While on route, the yacht they had chartered sank at sea and their bodies were eaten by the large densuto sharks. The man before he died shouted galonos in a guttural fashion.
The man shouted galanos in a guttural fashion, a word of curse with no translation in our language, because he had worked and saved his whole life for this sea voyage, often skipping meals, drinking only the bitter coffee, or fortifying himself with the shark's liver tonic, sold in barrels at local health food stores; and now him and his chick were gone at sea. This man is no more.
But worse luck, called salao, the very most bad form of awful luck, had befallen the man's two friend's, his animal pet's a boa constrictor and a large aged tiger. Both now lived under the porch of the small beach hut he had inhabited. When the woman had came to the island, the snake and tiger were dismissed from the house and delegated to live under the hut. They could no longer listen to the American football with their old friend and they would never get to go to America to see the football as the had always planned to do.
The boa constrictor was first to venture out from under the hut for he was very hungry and wanted to find and eat the boy. The boy was also a friend of the old fisherman but when the woman had summarily dismissed him he didn't accept his fate and act like a true fisherman; he had sulked and often for hours on end threw rock after rock at the boa constrictor, stuck under the porch. The boy felt angry that he could no longer bring the man coffee, listen to tales of football and the great Dick Butkus or even help the man carry the large heavy wooden cross that the man dragged around. Note the boy symbolizes the past, and the boa constrictor must kill part of himself.
The tiger was lazy and often just slept and dreamed of the American football and the Detroit lions. But, the tiger also got very hungry and decided to walk the beach by the ocean in the moonlight and try to find, kill and eat the shark, the great dunsuto, that had eaten his old friend, the fisherman. The tiger was sad because he knew the old man had worked hard his whole life, first as a great arm wrestler, then an ambulance driver for the Italian army in WW 1, and then a reporter, and a career as a man's man; hunting, fishing, you know, - the ladies, always striving to live life on his own terms, but sidetracked by his failings and concern for the welfare of others.
The boa constrictor killed and ate the boy and local fisherman killed and skinned the snake and hung his long tail on the dock. A rich American lady tourist saw the beautiful snake skin and tail and wanted a nice purse made out of it and a new industry was born to help poor Cubans survive, and they could now, have, rather than have not.
The tiger is still down there roaming the beaches in the moonlight waiting for the American football to come to him, maybe a Havana franchise. Then he can sit in his lazy boy chair and dream of the Detroit-Havana lions. Then the great cycle of life will be complete. Note the tiger symbolizes our dreams.
The moral of the story-don't strive for fame as a writer be content to be a fisherman instead.
With all do respect and affection, and in all Earnestness Mr. H your pupil needs to get rid of his salao. While I dream bring me your brilliance.
.
fiction
edward w pritchard
The old man, a fisherman had saved his money his entire life and at the age of seventy had married a thirty year old bride and left his homeland of Cuba to take her back to her native land of America. While on route, the yacht they had chartered sank at sea and their bodies were eaten by the large densuto sharks. The man before he died shouted galonos in a guttural fashion.
The man shouted galanos in a guttural fashion, a word of curse with no translation in our language, because he had worked and saved his whole life for this sea voyage, often skipping meals, drinking only the bitter coffee, or fortifying himself with the shark's liver tonic, sold in barrels at local health food stores; and now him and his chick were gone at sea. This man is no more.
But worse luck, called salao, the very most bad form of awful luck, had befallen the man's two friend's, his animal pet's a boa constrictor and a large aged tiger. Both now lived under the porch of the small beach hut he had inhabited. When the woman had came to the island, the snake and tiger were dismissed from the house and delegated to live under the hut. They could no longer listen to the American football with their old friend and they would never get to go to America to see the football as the had always planned to do.
The boa constrictor was first to venture out from under the hut for he was very hungry and wanted to find and eat the boy. The boy was also a friend of the old fisherman but when the woman had summarily dismissed him he didn't accept his fate and act like a true fisherman; he had sulked and often for hours on end threw rock after rock at the boa constrictor, stuck under the porch. The boy felt angry that he could no longer bring the man coffee, listen to tales of football and the great Dick Butkus or even help the man carry the large heavy wooden cross that the man dragged around. Note the boy symbolizes the past, and the boa constrictor must kill part of himself.
The tiger was lazy and often just slept and dreamed of the American football and the Detroit lions. But, the tiger also got very hungry and decided to walk the beach by the ocean in the moonlight and try to find, kill and eat the shark, the great dunsuto, that had eaten his old friend, the fisherman. The tiger was sad because he knew the old man had worked hard his whole life, first as a great arm wrestler, then an ambulance driver for the Italian army in WW 1, and then a reporter, and a career as a man's man; hunting, fishing, you know, - the ladies, always striving to live life on his own terms, but sidetracked by his failings and concern for the welfare of others.
The boa constrictor killed and ate the boy and local fisherman killed and skinned the snake and hung his long tail on the dock. A rich American lady tourist saw the beautiful snake skin and tail and wanted a nice purse made out of it and a new industry was born to help poor Cubans survive, and they could now, have, rather than have not.
The tiger is still down there roaming the beaches in the moonlight waiting for the American football to come to him, maybe a Havana franchise. Then he can sit in his lazy boy chair and dream of the Detroit-Havana lions. Then the great cycle of life will be complete. Note the tiger symbolizes our dreams.
The moral of the story-don't strive for fame as a writer be content to be a fisherman instead.
With all do respect and affection, and in all Earnestness Mr. H your pupil needs to get rid of his salao. While I dream bring me your brilliance.
.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
Statistical Prediction of the Future by Artificial Intelligence
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
draft 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
Things had ended like a lush pear hitting the side of a brick building. The impact annihilated the pear but the changes to the building were subtle and took time to work out.
Gabby
Gabby's weaknesses were gambling, blue's music, and sassy women and at Friday afternoon at 4:00PM she was anxious to hit the bars in downtown Kent and indulge her trio of afflictions to excess.
But Gabby's cravings had vanished like a fat man throwing a pack of cupcakes out of a speeding car window to keep from eating them. Craybo had answered back with a cryptic list of casual relationships and the results were displayed on the monitor in front of her. Gabby spent 57 hours per week programming and talking to the expensive super computer as a business analyst at Kent State University in Ohio; and she thought she knew the machine well. Craybo had surprised her and she felt like she had discovered a secret about a childhood friend. Gabby was surprised and intrigued by the information Craybo had flashed on the monitor in front of her. She was about to hop on the exercise bike she rode in her office and just before she started she typed:
" Why is it so windy in Kent, Ohio tonight May 03, 2010?
Craybo responded instantly:
Chief Big Foot-Wounded Knee December, 1890
Kent State Shootings- May, 04 1970
Jackson State University- May 14, 1970
Most Likely connection- Gaia Theory- theory proposed by James Lovelock, which views earth as one single organism. Physical components of planet are intimately related. Probability of relationship of increase in wind speed being casual 96%.
Gabby hoped off the bike and typed back to Craybo, reiterate:
Craybo displayed a haunting picture of the dead Indian chief Bigfoot in the snow at Wounded Knee.
Below the picture on the monitor read a caption:
Soldiers stacked the dead Indian bodies in the snow like firewood. Chief Bigfoot had been dragged by dog carry to [ some sources indicate horses] to the field hospital because he was very sick with pneumonia. Big foot was carried out of the field hospital bed by soldiers and was among the first Indians struck by the seventh cavalries rifle shots. Woman and children were hunted down in the snow up to 2 hours later. More metals of honor were given to soldiers at wounded knee than any other American battle.
An hour later Gabby decided, over riding her better judgment to call Beverly.
Beverly
Beverly was happy. She had a new car to drive to her dinner date at a Chinese Restaurant in Beechwood, Ohio and the new car had a spectacular stereo system. She was listening to List's Hungarian Rhapsody #2 as she drove through the light expressway traffic North toward Beechwood.
Beverly was startled by her old cellphone sitting on the passenger seat, It was the voice of dead actor Cary Grant. Beverly didn't know the phone could signal by voice. The voice of Cary Grant repeated twice in succession:
"emergency dial 27"
"emergency dial 27"
Beverly first thought was it was the cell phone company trying to sell her something. However curious she dialed "27"
It was a short phone message.
" Choate I need you."
"See me at KSU business school trading floor"
Gabby
The message was left at 4:47, 7 minutes ago.
Beverly pulled off the expressway North and parked on the berm. The last time she felt a jolt of emotion like this was when her twin 10 year old brother had pulled the starter cord on the lawn mower while she had the fingers of the left hand on the spark plug and the right hand gripped the spark plug wire.
Gabby needed her. What could inspire Gabby to break the silence between them after Gabby had dumped her two complete years earlier.
Beverly didn't know if she could go into the school of business again but she frantically searched for an exit to turn around the new car and head southeast toward Kent, Ohio.
End part 1
Beverly parked he new car close to the door of the department of business the Kent State University. The University was eerily deserted for a school day. It must be the unusual howling wind. Strange for a May wind, it felt like late fall. Beverly still had the electronic key card Gabby had given her in her purse and it still worked. That was good because no one seemed to be around, not even the foreign students who seldom goofed off on weekends.
As she entered the third floor exit by the stairs, Beverly was reassured and calmed to see the same janitor from when she had spent hours and hours here two to three years ago. The janitor still weighed over three hundred pounds and moved very slow. He was an intent young black man with blotchy light skin and reddish hair. He always seemed to be working very hard to keep the building clean for the students. He seemed to remember Beverly, and greeted her in the customary way, tipping his cap he always wore, smiling a little and although he was a few years younger than her calling her ma-dame.
The trading floor at the KSU school of business had been one of the finest simulation trading pits in the world when built five years ago. A wealthy alumni had donated over five million dollars to build the expensive theater, state of the art monitors, and electronic stock and bond ticker tapes. Current quotes on stocks and bonds were displayed in real time twenty four hours a day. Gabby's and Craybo's job was to keep the room on line and to monitor relationships between the millions of events that occurred in the world, daily; past and present and the effect they had on stock and bond prices. The students would then agonize over deciphering the mysterious arcane connections.
The trading room was dark when Beverly walked in but each of the various sized twenty monitors displayed the same picture. Beverly carefully walked down the sloping steps of the intimate auditorium, slid between the seats and slid in next to Gabby. The theater style seats were plushly padded, but perhaps to keep the students awake in lecture, the arm rest were a heavy iron, intensely uncomfortable and high like European airport seats. The two former friends were very close together in the seats but because of the art deco iron armrests were not touching. No greeting occurred.
Gabby was staring at the picture on the monitor. Beverly recognized the picture from her expensive Ivy league education. It was Big Foot the sad old Indian, symbolizing the death of the frontier in America; and his soul looked in anguish as it struggled to escape the confines of his frozen body. The picture was difficult to look at intensified by being on all twenty screens around the room.
Beverly let out a single sigh after she read " soldiers stacked the dead Indian bodies in the snow like firewood. Beverly remembered a history professor saying that maybe the soldiers removed the Indian blanket from Big Foot's body to avoid any association with the protection provided by the ghost dance and invisibility shirts and blankets that some Indians, but not Big foot and his followers, thought would protect them from soldiers bullets.
As Beverly sighed, Gabby awoke from her revelry and without greeting, pushed a few keys on the laptop she had been clutching tightly to her chest. The picture of Bigfoot stayed on the first screen but all the rest filled with the famous picture of Mary Vecchio standing over a dead Jeff Miller at Kent State student protests May 04, 1970. Immediately however, that picture morphed into a picture that appeared to be also at Kent State May 1970 that Beverly didn't recognize. It was a body covered by a morgue blanket laying on the ground.
The caption read:
"William Schroeder was a ROTC student and had been shot dead center in the chest as he walked between classes at Kent State May 04, 1970." A second quote obviously a cut and pasted caption said " the Ohio guard had been certain when quizzed that the shots were fired accidentally and as evidence often mentioned the fact that William Schroeder had only been hit once in the chest." Schroeder was not believed to be involved in the altercation with the Ohio guard.
After a moment, Gabby again worked with the laptop and Bigfoot picture stayed on the first monitor, William Schroeder's picture stayed on the second and the rest of the monitors showed another body covered by a police morgue blanket at night.
The Caption said:
Two students were killed today at Jackson State University in Mississippi. The second dead student was a high school student walking home from his part time job at a grocery store and was struck by shot gun fire to his chest. The boy, James Earl Green was on the high school track team. The boy was not believed to be involved in the campus rioting.
Keeping the three pictures of dead Americans in the first three screens, Gabby made another key stroke and the remainder of the monitors were filled with the same X Y Cartesian bar graph.
ADD X Y CHART HERE
THREE SLOPING LINES RISING and STEEPENING LEFT TO RIGHT
1890 TO 2020
WOUNDED KNEE, KENT STATE, JACKSON STATE
INCREASE IN AVERAGE YEAR ON YEAR December 29 TO MAY 31 WIND SPEED
The caption read:
Average wind speed: 1. December 29, 1890 , to May 03, 2010 Wounded Knee and Pine Ridge reservation 2. Kent State University Main Campus may 04, 1970 to May 03, 2010 and Ravenna Arsenal same period 3. Campus Jackson State University Lynch Street and Jim Hill High School, same period
Conclusion
Wind speed at all locations increasing year on year. Likely hood of randomness less than 5%. Most likely cause, 1. Human intervention highly unlikely. 2. Most likely occurrence involves Gaia theory. Mechanism unknown based on current data. Metaphysical explanation also possible, not probable.
Gabby pushed one more key on the laptop and the electronic stock ticker running around the room like a crown molding displayed the same phrase over and over. It said: When soldiers carry guns humans die. It ran right to left slowly and then occasionally reversed and ran the opposite way. Beverly looked at Gabby and Gabby spoke for the first time. Can you check my statistics Romy.
Romy was a nick name Gabby had called Beverly before when she wanted her to get out of a warm bed at 3 AM to get her some taco bell food, or some cherry flavored miniature cigars. Beverly's second nickname was Choate. Beverly had been at the Cleveland Museum, early one Sunday morning to meet her twin brother who was having marital problems and wanted advice. He stood her up. He was to meet her at 9:30 AM and didn't call to cancel until 10:00AM. While walking around to kill time Beverly had noticed Gabby intently studying the Mondrian painting temporarily on loan, Broadway Boogie Woggie. Gabby had said two things as Beverly paused near where Gabby sat. " What does it mean Choate?" and a minute later " Choate, I don't do well any more with beautiful women." Choate is an expensive prep school in Connecticut and Gabby later said Beverly looked like a Choate.
Gabby dozed while Beverly rechecked her statistical correlations on her Texas Instruments BA ll plus. Each correlation on the yellow paper Gabby had handed checked out. Beverly fell asleep in the warm room also.
Beverly awoke to the sound of gaited horse beats. Gabby was walking back in forth near the lecture podium alternately slapping a football and spinning it high in the air, nearly touching the sloping ceiling.
When Gabby saw Beverly was awake she said:
" Can you play the piano for me at Hanks, Romy".
End part 2
Part 3
Several small bars in Kent that night just closed early, not because of the wind; Beverly E-xx was going to play piano at Hank's.
Hank Grenson locked the first floor door, after Gabby and Beverly entered, put two ton Marston there as bouncer and instructed the wait staff that no food or drink could be ordered or carried out while Beverly played.
Beverly played for twenty minutes, one continuous improvisation on List's Hungarian Rhapsody #2 and Jimmy Hendricks purple haze. At times she played a little of Ohio by Crosby Stills and Nash. After about 15 minutes Gabby walked to the front of the smoky room, put her right hand on Beverly's shoulder, brushed Beverly's hair lightly with her left had and said softly as Beverly continued to play, talking like Cary Grant, "Goodbye Choate"
Gabby had walked out of Beverly's life again.
Monday at Beverly's office there was a single hand written chart on a fax. It was the same chart of the casual relationship in wind speed in December to May at wounded Knee, Kent State and Jackson State. But Bloomfield Michigan was a fourth variable
On the bottom,
Gabby had typed;
Craybo, predict likely next location of increase in wind speed, ie fourth casual variable, by location
Craybo: foreign or domestic
Gabby: continental USA
Craybo: Likely hood next location, increased wind speed attributable to Gaia theory Bloomfield Michigan reliability 87%
Probability caption 85%
likely next caption- 4 to 8 local Muslim business leaders shot fatally by overhead unmanned drones while peacefully protesting increasing property taxes, no charges were filed
probable date- spring 2019- 50%
probable date May 2020- 75%
probable date April 1st 2019 to may 31,2020 - 85%
Gabby: Craybo is there a way to warn humans of this probable occurrence
Craybo: negative based on historical record
Gabby: Craybo does this have to happen?
Craybo: probable, not certain
Gabby:Why
Craybo:When soldiers carry guns humans die.-- strike
Revise: When soldiers or drones carry weapons humans die
Commentary on the Kent State Shootings of 1970
draft 1
fiction
edward w pritchard
Things had ended like a lush pear hitting the side of a brick building. The impact annihilated the pear but the changes to the building were subtle and took time to work out.
Gabby
Gabby's weaknesses were gambling, blue's music, and sassy women and at Friday afternoon at 4:00PM she was anxious to hit the bars in downtown Kent and indulge her trio of afflictions to excess.
But Gabby's cravings had vanished like a fat man throwing a pack of cupcakes out of a speeding car window to keep from eating them. Craybo had answered back with a cryptic list of casual relationships and the results were displayed on the monitor in front of her. Gabby spent 57 hours per week programming and talking to the expensive super computer as a business analyst at Kent State University in Ohio; and she thought she knew the machine well. Craybo had surprised her and she felt like she had discovered a secret about a childhood friend. Gabby was surprised and intrigued by the information Craybo had flashed on the monitor in front of her. She was about to hop on the exercise bike she rode in her office and just before she started she typed:
" Why is it so windy in Kent, Ohio tonight May 03, 2010?
Craybo responded instantly:
Chief Big Foot-Wounded Knee December, 1890
Kent State Shootings- May, 04 1970
Jackson State University- May 14, 1970
Most Likely connection- Gaia Theory- theory proposed by James Lovelock, which views earth as one single organism. Physical components of planet are intimately related. Probability of relationship of increase in wind speed being casual 96%.
Gabby hoped off the bike and typed back to Craybo, reiterate:
Craybo displayed a haunting picture of the dead Indian chief Bigfoot in the snow at Wounded Knee.
Below the picture on the monitor read a caption:
Soldiers stacked the dead Indian bodies in the snow like firewood. Chief Bigfoot had been dragged by dog carry to [ some sources indicate horses] to the field hospital because he was very sick with pneumonia. Big foot was carried out of the field hospital bed by soldiers and was among the first Indians struck by the seventh cavalries rifle shots. Woman and children were hunted down in the snow up to 2 hours later. More metals of honor were given to soldiers at wounded knee than any other American battle.
An hour later Gabby decided, over riding her better judgment to call Beverly.
Beverly
Beverly was happy. She had a new car to drive to her dinner date at a Chinese Restaurant in Beechwood, Ohio and the new car had a spectacular stereo system. She was listening to List's Hungarian Rhapsody #2 as she drove through the light expressway traffic North toward Beechwood.
Beverly was startled by her old cellphone sitting on the passenger seat, It was the voice of dead actor Cary Grant. Beverly didn't know the phone could signal by voice. The voice of Cary Grant repeated twice in succession:
"emergency dial 27"
"emergency dial 27"
Beverly first thought was it was the cell phone company trying to sell her something. However curious she dialed "27"
It was a short phone message.
" Choate I need you."
"See me at KSU business school trading floor"
Gabby
The message was left at 4:47, 7 minutes ago.
Beverly pulled off the expressway North and parked on the berm. The last time she felt a jolt of emotion like this was when her twin 10 year old brother had pulled the starter cord on the lawn mower while she had the fingers of the left hand on the spark plug and the right hand gripped the spark plug wire.
Gabby needed her. What could inspire Gabby to break the silence between them after Gabby had dumped her two complete years earlier.
Beverly didn't know if she could go into the school of business again but she frantically searched for an exit to turn around the new car and head southeast toward Kent, Ohio.
End part 1
Beverly parked he new car close to the door of the department of business the Kent State University. The University was eerily deserted for a school day. It must be the unusual howling wind. Strange for a May wind, it felt like late fall. Beverly still had the electronic key card Gabby had given her in her purse and it still worked. That was good because no one seemed to be around, not even the foreign students who seldom goofed off on weekends.
As she entered the third floor exit by the stairs, Beverly was reassured and calmed to see the same janitor from when she had spent hours and hours here two to three years ago. The janitor still weighed over three hundred pounds and moved very slow. He was an intent young black man with blotchy light skin and reddish hair. He always seemed to be working very hard to keep the building clean for the students. He seemed to remember Beverly, and greeted her in the customary way, tipping his cap he always wore, smiling a little and although he was a few years younger than her calling her ma-dame.
The trading floor at the KSU school of business had been one of the finest simulation trading pits in the world when built five years ago. A wealthy alumni had donated over five million dollars to build the expensive theater, state of the art monitors, and electronic stock and bond ticker tapes. Current quotes on stocks and bonds were displayed in real time twenty four hours a day. Gabby's and Craybo's job was to keep the room on line and to monitor relationships between the millions of events that occurred in the world, daily; past and present and the effect they had on stock and bond prices. The students would then agonize over deciphering the mysterious arcane connections.
The trading room was dark when Beverly walked in but each of the various sized twenty monitors displayed the same picture. Beverly carefully walked down the sloping steps of the intimate auditorium, slid between the seats and slid in next to Gabby. The theater style seats were plushly padded, but perhaps to keep the students awake in lecture, the arm rest were a heavy iron, intensely uncomfortable and high like European airport seats. The two former friends were very close together in the seats but because of the art deco iron armrests were not touching. No greeting occurred.
Gabby was staring at the picture on the monitor. Beverly recognized the picture from her expensive Ivy league education. It was Big Foot the sad old Indian, symbolizing the death of the frontier in America; and his soul looked in anguish as it struggled to escape the confines of his frozen body. The picture was difficult to look at intensified by being on all twenty screens around the room.
Beverly let out a single sigh after she read " soldiers stacked the dead Indian bodies in the snow like firewood. Beverly remembered a history professor saying that maybe the soldiers removed the Indian blanket from Big Foot's body to avoid any association with the protection provided by the ghost dance and invisibility shirts and blankets that some Indians, but not Big foot and his followers, thought would protect them from soldiers bullets.
As Beverly sighed, Gabby awoke from her revelry and without greeting, pushed a few keys on the laptop she had been clutching tightly to her chest. The picture of Bigfoot stayed on the first screen but all the rest filled with the famous picture of Mary Vecchio standing over a dead Jeff Miller at Kent State student protests May 04, 1970. Immediately however, that picture morphed into a picture that appeared to be also at Kent State May 1970 that Beverly didn't recognize. It was a body covered by a morgue blanket laying on the ground.
The caption read:
"William Schroeder was a ROTC student and had been shot dead center in the chest as he walked between classes at Kent State May 04, 1970." A second quote obviously a cut and pasted caption said " the Ohio guard had been certain when quizzed that the shots were fired accidentally and as evidence often mentioned the fact that William Schroeder had only been hit once in the chest." Schroeder was not believed to be involved in the altercation with the Ohio guard.
After a moment, Gabby again worked with the laptop and Bigfoot picture stayed on the first monitor, William Schroeder's picture stayed on the second and the rest of the monitors showed another body covered by a police morgue blanket at night.
The Caption said:
Two students were killed today at Jackson State University in Mississippi. The second dead student was a high school student walking home from his part time job at a grocery store and was struck by shot gun fire to his chest. The boy, James Earl Green was on the high school track team. The boy was not believed to be involved in the campus rioting.
Keeping the three pictures of dead Americans in the first three screens, Gabby made another key stroke and the remainder of the monitors were filled with the same X Y Cartesian bar graph.
ADD X Y CHART HERE
THREE SLOPING LINES RISING and STEEPENING LEFT TO RIGHT
1890 TO 2020
WOUNDED KNEE, KENT STATE, JACKSON STATE
INCREASE IN AVERAGE YEAR ON YEAR December 29 TO MAY 31 WIND SPEED
The caption read:
Average wind speed: 1. December 29, 1890 , to May 03, 2010 Wounded Knee and Pine Ridge reservation 2. Kent State University Main Campus may 04, 1970 to May 03, 2010 and Ravenna Arsenal same period 3. Campus Jackson State University Lynch Street and Jim Hill High School, same period
Conclusion
Wind speed at all locations increasing year on year. Likely hood of randomness less than 5%. Most likely cause, 1. Human intervention highly unlikely. 2. Most likely occurrence involves Gaia theory. Mechanism unknown based on current data. Metaphysical explanation also possible, not probable.
Gabby pushed one more key on the laptop and the electronic stock ticker running around the room like a crown molding displayed the same phrase over and over. It said: When soldiers carry guns humans die. It ran right to left slowly and then occasionally reversed and ran the opposite way. Beverly looked at Gabby and Gabby spoke for the first time. Can you check my statistics Romy.
Romy was a nick name Gabby had called Beverly before when she wanted her to get out of a warm bed at 3 AM to get her some taco bell food, or some cherry flavored miniature cigars. Beverly's second nickname was Choate. Beverly had been at the Cleveland Museum, early one Sunday morning to meet her twin brother who was having marital problems and wanted advice. He stood her up. He was to meet her at 9:30 AM and didn't call to cancel until 10:00AM. While walking around to kill time Beverly had noticed Gabby intently studying the Mondrian painting temporarily on loan, Broadway Boogie Woggie. Gabby had said two things as Beverly paused near where Gabby sat. " What does it mean Choate?" and a minute later " Choate, I don't do well any more with beautiful women." Choate is an expensive prep school in Connecticut and Gabby later said Beverly looked like a Choate.
Gabby dozed while Beverly rechecked her statistical correlations on her Texas Instruments BA ll plus. Each correlation on the yellow paper Gabby had handed checked out. Beverly fell asleep in the warm room also.
Beverly awoke to the sound of gaited horse beats. Gabby was walking back in forth near the lecture podium alternately slapping a football and spinning it high in the air, nearly touching the sloping ceiling.
When Gabby saw Beverly was awake she said:
" Can you play the piano for me at Hanks, Romy".
End part 2
Part 3
Several small bars in Kent that night just closed early, not because of the wind; Beverly E-xx was going to play piano at Hank's.
Hank Grenson locked the first floor door, after Gabby and Beverly entered, put two ton Marston there as bouncer and instructed the wait staff that no food or drink could be ordered or carried out while Beverly played.
Beverly played for twenty minutes, one continuous improvisation on List's Hungarian Rhapsody #2 and Jimmy Hendricks purple haze. At times she played a little of Ohio by Crosby Stills and Nash. After about 15 minutes Gabby walked to the front of the smoky room, put her right hand on Beverly's shoulder, brushed Beverly's hair lightly with her left had and said softly as Beverly continued to play, talking like Cary Grant, "Goodbye Choate"
Gabby had walked out of Beverly's life again.
Monday at Beverly's office there was a single hand written chart on a fax. It was the same chart of the casual relationship in wind speed in December to May at wounded Knee, Kent State and Jackson State. But Bloomfield Michigan was a fourth variable
On the bottom,
Gabby had typed;
Craybo, predict likely next location of increase in wind speed, ie fourth casual variable, by location
Craybo: foreign or domestic
Gabby: continental USA
Craybo: Likely hood next location, increased wind speed attributable to Gaia theory Bloomfield Michigan reliability 87%
Probability caption 85%
likely next caption- 4 to 8 local Muslim business leaders shot fatally by overhead unmanned drones while peacefully protesting increasing property taxes, no charges were filed
probable date- spring 2019- 50%
probable date May 2020- 75%
probable date April 1st 2019 to may 31,2020 - 85%
Gabby: Craybo is there a way to warn humans of this probable occurrence
Craybo: negative based on historical record
Gabby: Craybo does this have to happen?
Craybo: probable, not certain
Gabby:Why
Craybo:When soldiers carry guns humans die.-- strike
Revise: When soldiers or drones carry weapons humans die
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Retiring School Teacher
The Retiring Teacher
fiction
edward w pritchard
French playwright Octave Mirbeau had guests in his Paris apartment. Tonight, in April 1903, they were celebrating the successful production of his contentious play "Business is Business". The play was not without controversy. Octave Mirbeau although famous throughout France as a playwright and art critic was an anarchist. Parisian society loved a controversy and no matter that most of the avant guarde didn't want to know what an anarchist believed or thought; tonight his after theater party to honor the play was the most sought after location to be at in all of Paris. The food was gourmet, the wine was always excellent, the absinthe was stultifying, and the company was eclectic. Over 40 people already filled the small apartment waiting to talk to Monsieur Mirbeau.
If he could Mirbeau would throw all his guests out of his apartment, despite the preparation and great expense of the party. He wished to see none of the rich and famous of Paris society. He only wanted to spend a few moments with the elderly retiring Dutch school teacher brought to Paris by her son. The teacher was in Paris to celebrate her retiring from school teaching after 44 years service. At the theater tonight a friend of a friend had introduced the shy elderly lady to Mirbeau the famous playwright. He couldn't spend time with her at the theater because of the hub bub of the standing ovations, hangersons and acclaim.
Now, Mirbeau desperately searched the apartment for the school teacher or even her son. After about an hour without any sign of the teacher Mirbeau went into his study, ushered out the guests in the room and stared at the picture Starry Night he had acquired a few years ago for 300 francs painted by a then obscure dead painter Vincent Van Gogh . It was his favorite painting from his collection of impressionism masterpieces.
After about 15 minutes Mirbeau began to feel calm and was about to return to his party when there was a meek knock at the door. It was the elderly school teacher from Groot-Zundert, Holland who had been the grade school teacher of Vincent Van Gogh. She was soft spoken and a little prematurely aged for 63.
He fawned on her with refreshments and food and then begged her if he could ask a few questions. The school teacher was a little overwhelmed for at the theater earlier over 200 people had stood in line for a moment of Mirbeau's time tonight. Now, At the party tonight numerous friends and admirers were fretting over Mirbeau's shutting himself up in his study. Mirabeau only desperately wanted a few words with Van Gogh's grade school teacher.
At length Mirbeau asked " How do you like Paris honorable Mademoiselle "
The Teacher " simply shocking, but the food is excellent"
Mirabeau "Did she know Van Gogh was a painter"
The teacher" vaguely, but she knew he shot himself in France
Mirabeau " What did she remember of Vincent in 4th and 5th grade?
Teacher " Quiet, difficult in class, nervous, temperamental, mood swings, unremarkable as a student"
Mirabeau" did she remember the family"
Teacher" of course, Theo, the younger brother was a delight in class, one of the sisters was talented in music, but she couldn't remember her name, and the Father was a minister in the village.
Mirabeau " did Van Gogh show any special artistic ability
Teacher " none "
Mirabeau [Pointing to starry night the painting on the wall of his study] and [blowing out a few of the many candles providing the illumination in the room] " what was her impression of starry night
Teacher " it looks like the work of a gifted child "
Mirbeau Did the colors in the painting impress her in any way
Teacher " She remembered the boy Van Gogh was fascinated by the color yellow and often had said he saw yellow spots before his eyes. She had mentioned this to the Father who said the boy had epilepsy and might be a little mad.
Mirabeau-"Did she see any influences of the village in Holland in the painting"
Teacher, "the church spire of course and the boy Vincent often wrote at length about the night sky, she was told by the village doctor the boy was hyper graphic"
Did she like the picture?
Teacher " haunting and fascinating, i can see the boy Vincent Van Gogh's torment from secret demons in the picture"
Mirbeau- Did she claim any credit for the boys artistic accomplishment? For example did she treat him special in any way to encourage him?
Teacher " Young man I treated all my students kindly and as special and let God's light develop in them in its own way.
fiction
edward w pritchard
French playwright Octave Mirbeau had guests in his Paris apartment. Tonight, in April 1903, they were celebrating the successful production of his contentious play "Business is Business". The play was not without controversy. Octave Mirbeau although famous throughout France as a playwright and art critic was an anarchist. Parisian society loved a controversy and no matter that most of the avant guarde didn't want to know what an anarchist believed or thought; tonight his after theater party to honor the play was the most sought after location to be at in all of Paris. The food was gourmet, the wine was always excellent, the absinthe was stultifying, and the company was eclectic. Over 40 people already filled the small apartment waiting to talk to Monsieur Mirbeau.
If he could Mirbeau would throw all his guests out of his apartment, despite the preparation and great expense of the party. He wished to see none of the rich and famous of Paris society. He only wanted to spend a few moments with the elderly retiring Dutch school teacher brought to Paris by her son. The teacher was in Paris to celebrate her retiring from school teaching after 44 years service. At the theater tonight a friend of a friend had introduced the shy elderly lady to Mirbeau the famous playwright. He couldn't spend time with her at the theater because of the hub bub of the standing ovations, hangersons and acclaim.
Now, Mirbeau desperately searched the apartment for the school teacher or even her son. After about an hour without any sign of the teacher Mirbeau went into his study, ushered out the guests in the room and stared at the picture Starry Night he had acquired a few years ago for 300 francs painted by a then obscure dead painter Vincent Van Gogh . It was his favorite painting from his collection of impressionism masterpieces.
After about 15 minutes Mirbeau began to feel calm and was about to return to his party when there was a meek knock at the door. It was the elderly school teacher from Groot-Zundert, Holland who had been the grade school teacher of Vincent Van Gogh. She was soft spoken and a little prematurely aged for 63.
He fawned on her with refreshments and food and then begged her if he could ask a few questions. The school teacher was a little overwhelmed for at the theater earlier over 200 people had stood in line for a moment of Mirbeau's time tonight. Now, At the party tonight numerous friends and admirers were fretting over Mirbeau's shutting himself up in his study. Mirabeau only desperately wanted a few words with Van Gogh's grade school teacher.
At length Mirbeau asked " How do you like Paris honorable Mademoiselle "
The Teacher " simply shocking, but the food is excellent"
Mirabeau "Did she know Van Gogh was a painter"
The teacher" vaguely, but she knew he shot himself in France
Mirabeau " What did she remember of Vincent in 4th and 5th grade?
Teacher " Quiet, difficult in class, nervous, temperamental, mood swings, unremarkable as a student"
Mirabeau" did she remember the family"
Teacher" of course, Theo, the younger brother was a delight in class, one of the sisters was talented in music, but she couldn't remember her name, and the Father was a minister in the village.
Mirabeau " did Van Gogh show any special artistic ability
Teacher " none "
Mirabeau [Pointing to starry night the painting on the wall of his study] and [blowing out a few of the many candles providing the illumination in the room] " what was her impression of starry night
Teacher " it looks like the work of a gifted child "
Mirbeau Did the colors in the painting impress her in any way
Teacher " She remembered the boy Van Gogh was fascinated by the color yellow and often had said he saw yellow spots before his eyes. She had mentioned this to the Father who said the boy had epilepsy and might be a little mad.
Mirabeau-"Did she see any influences of the village in Holland in the painting"
Teacher, "the church spire of course and the boy Vincent often wrote at length about the night sky, she was told by the village doctor the boy was hyper graphic"
Did she like the picture?
Teacher " haunting and fascinating, i can see the boy Vincent Van Gogh's torment from secret demons in the picture"
Mirbeau- Did she claim any credit for the boys artistic accomplishment? For example did she treat him special in any way to encourage him?
Teacher " Young man I treated all my students kindly and as special and let God's light develop in them in its own way.
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