the lost ace in the hole
fiction
edward w pritchard
You never know when you gonna need that lost ace in the hole.
Then, not now, worse not better.
Ace in the hole kaput, old deck gone missing.
Game finished
Friday, March 24, 2017
Consensual integrity
Consensual Integrity
fiction
edward w pritchard
There is the fact and then there is the motivation.
So many sins follow from the original motivation to let nature take it's course, the children to grow properly to adulthood, maintenance of the status quo, following the biological course of reality. Sin being later accountability for previous actions to maintain the status quo by omission from timely intervention.
Should we bear moral responsibility for not taking negative action to rectify an acknowledged fact dictated by another mover that will effect parties without legal capacity to contract or survive as independent agents? Speaking here of minor children. Some not then yet born.
We must bear moral responsibility for our actions but do we have negative responsibility for our omissions?
Don't count your sins resulting from biological dictates to maintain the species, to procreate offspring. When it comes to accounting for sins gentleness is sweet reasonableness.
Be slow to Judge. People can be good and not perfect.
Sometimes only parts of the story were told. Selective integrity compartmentalizes the truth.
One can not have endless responsibility for an act of consensual integrity.
Lord have mercy on us all.
fiction
edward w pritchard
There is the fact and then there is the motivation.
So many sins follow from the original motivation to let nature take it's course, the children to grow properly to adulthood, maintenance of the status quo, following the biological course of reality. Sin being later accountability for previous actions to maintain the status quo by omission from timely intervention.
Should we bear moral responsibility for not taking negative action to rectify an acknowledged fact dictated by another mover that will effect parties without legal capacity to contract or survive as independent agents? Speaking here of minor children. Some not then yet born.
We must bear moral responsibility for our actions but do we have negative responsibility for our omissions?
Don't count your sins resulting from biological dictates to maintain the species, to procreate offspring. When it comes to accounting for sins gentleness is sweet reasonableness.
Be slow to Judge. People can be good and not perfect.
Sometimes only parts of the story were told. Selective integrity compartmentalizes the truth.
One can not have endless responsibility for an act of consensual integrity.
Lord have mercy on us all.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
the American angst of having fallen from the middle class
the American angst of heaving fallen from the middle class
fiction
edward w pritchard
In my case the American angst of having fallen from the middle class is cushioned by the not totally uncomfortable old vinyl padded seats of the reliable cross town number 19 bus that I sit on as I head downtown to make war with the good government employees at the social security office concerning my need to pay for additional premiums for medicare part D prescription coverage so I can continue to be a good consumer of pharma services now and into the future. As the trusty old bus bounces along from stop to stop I hang on to my American dreams by using the shiny metal poles designed to cushion a sudden stop should the bus driver collide with anything or accelerate or brake too aggressively. Despite being in a constant rush to get from the initial pick point at any of the low income grocery store stops, to the metro/greyhound central terminal master Bus station downtown I have never experienced a bus driver being involved in any type of traffic altercation. Sometimes a concerned driver will let a homeless type passenger or obviously poor student ride for free to maintain social order I suppose. To me, bus drivers seem like pretty good folks, especially the women drivers. I tolerate their smoking outside the bus when ahead of schedule because I assume they have a stressful job and life.
The bus is fifty cents a ride for the elderly and it appears that anyone can get for $2.50 an all day bus pass so you can go from the unemployment office, to the Medicaid, or social security offices for Medicare like me, or to the county health offices for mysterious other social services related to mental health and american angst. Fifty cents a ride is a good price to ride the eight miles to downtown from where I stay. I still have change in my pocket to buy an overpriced $1.75 20 oz. diet mountain from the vending machines designed to give the low income folks easy access to the varieties of American consumer culture. I am usally hit on by someone asking for money for groceries or to donate to their church next Sunday; probably as an older white guy I am not one of the stereotypical sub class types and appear an easy mark, or it could be a tribute to the local Goodwill Stores where I purchase one of half a dozen very nice, warm wool over coats that I wear about in Winter. Necessary, when I ride the bus since the local bus stop with the glass seated enclosure is 1350 steps on my garman from my abode.
The good thing about the metro bus is it gets about town rain or shine so I can reach downtown in snowy weather unlike the suburban local school buses near my house which only move about the streets of our area on clearer days. At least where I live metro bus drivers get less snow days off than Public school bus drivers from what I can unscientifically surmise from riding the metro bus past the school bus parking lot the last few snowy days. Probably school bus drivers aren't involved in decisions to close the suburban schools on wintry days, such decisions being left to school administrators and teachers unions I would imagine.
Recently I had to take two buses without a transfer to pick up a borrowed truck for the day. It only cost 50 cents times two but although inexpensive buses take a while to get about especially if where someone works or is going is off the beaten path. Usually though most people who ride a bus to work are younger women, a little too heavy to walk far, again being unscientific when it comes to proper sampling techniques, I am sure that the extra two hours it takes to get to the McDonald's or dollar store for work makes for a tiring day after doing an eight hour shift on one's feet all day. So, even if McDonald's and the dollar stores aren't off the beaten path it still lowers anyone's net profit from working there if because of circumstance they are forced to ride a bus to work because they aren't in proper shape to ride a bike or walk to work or if they have others things to do after working besides walking for two hours to go say eight miles or ride a bike for an hour to go the same distance. Also it would be a lot easier if they had a nice new car to drive to McDonald's to work. Taking a bus to work for most people I again without a proper statistical sample surmise is stressful in itself even though one hears a lot of interesting conversations on a bus, even an introvert like myself, and one learns a bit about the American angst of having fallen from the middle class that one doesn't realize riding about in a new car especially if one isn't fortunate enough to have another new car as well being driven by their hard working spouse to their well paying career work location. Again without a proper sample I notice that from looking and listening to people who ride the buses about town most of the bus customers don't seem to have a sufficient other in their lives, who has their backs in the good times and bad in life and have a well paying career as well, which although probably their fault, the bus customers, their fault that they are alone, they not having a proper car, nor a store of Capital, capital C, in the Bank, then that is for the lonely person on the bus, one of several indices that can lead to the American angst of having recently fallen from the middle class. I assume such a situation happens more often to introverts without properly chosen careers, a store of Capital in the Bank and successful life partners but such an assumption would be a sweeping statement which would be unscientific, being mere here-say [hear-say sic.] on my part. Speaking of hear-say evidence and improper rules of disavowed evidence in a court of law for this fallen American angel of the American angst to imply the estoppel evidence rule, to why him and other lower class bus riders deserve special consideration and subsidy because of the current lack of equity, inherent hardheartedness, and lack of opportunity involved in the pursuit of happiness in the Capitalistic system is disingenuous at best as well as just plain naive considering that everyone knows that if one is forced to rely on a estoppel defense in a court of Law, that one has a weak hand and is bound to lose before the court, estoppel defense, being here, in this argument that recently life has gotten so much the harder resulting in more and more good people falling out of the middle class in America even though once in some golden age there really was equal opportunity for all; when in fact any Jury knows that such was never the case and as any good lawyer knows Judge's have a very short attention span when it comes to interpreting the fairness of anything involving Equity either in court or Society at large. Summary Judgment being then Some are Bound to Lose. Case Dismissed.
fiction
edward w pritchard
In my case the American angst of having fallen from the middle class is cushioned by the not totally uncomfortable old vinyl padded seats of the reliable cross town number 19 bus that I sit on as I head downtown to make war with the good government employees at the social security office concerning my need to pay for additional premiums for medicare part D prescription coverage so I can continue to be a good consumer of pharma services now and into the future. As the trusty old bus bounces along from stop to stop I hang on to my American dreams by using the shiny metal poles designed to cushion a sudden stop should the bus driver collide with anything or accelerate or brake too aggressively. Despite being in a constant rush to get from the initial pick point at any of the low income grocery store stops, to the metro/greyhound central terminal master Bus station downtown I have never experienced a bus driver being involved in any type of traffic altercation. Sometimes a concerned driver will let a homeless type passenger or obviously poor student ride for free to maintain social order I suppose. To me, bus drivers seem like pretty good folks, especially the women drivers. I tolerate their smoking outside the bus when ahead of schedule because I assume they have a stressful job and life.
The bus is fifty cents a ride for the elderly and it appears that anyone can get for $2.50 an all day bus pass so you can go from the unemployment office, to the Medicaid, or social security offices for Medicare like me, or to the county health offices for mysterious other social services related to mental health and american angst. Fifty cents a ride is a good price to ride the eight miles to downtown from where I stay. I still have change in my pocket to buy an overpriced $1.75 20 oz. diet mountain from the vending machines designed to give the low income folks easy access to the varieties of American consumer culture. I am usally hit on by someone asking for money for groceries or to donate to their church next Sunday; probably as an older white guy I am not one of the stereotypical sub class types and appear an easy mark, or it could be a tribute to the local Goodwill Stores where I purchase one of half a dozen very nice, warm wool over coats that I wear about in Winter. Necessary, when I ride the bus since the local bus stop with the glass seated enclosure is 1350 steps on my garman from my abode.
The good thing about the metro bus is it gets about town rain or shine so I can reach downtown in snowy weather unlike the suburban local school buses near my house which only move about the streets of our area on clearer days. At least where I live metro bus drivers get less snow days off than Public school bus drivers from what I can unscientifically surmise from riding the metro bus past the school bus parking lot the last few snowy days. Probably school bus drivers aren't involved in decisions to close the suburban schools on wintry days, such decisions being left to school administrators and teachers unions I would imagine.
Recently I had to take two buses without a transfer to pick up a borrowed truck for the day. It only cost 50 cents times two but although inexpensive buses take a while to get about especially if where someone works or is going is off the beaten path. Usually though most people who ride a bus to work are younger women, a little too heavy to walk far, again being unscientific when it comes to proper sampling techniques, I am sure that the extra two hours it takes to get to the McDonald's or dollar store for work makes for a tiring day after doing an eight hour shift on one's feet all day. So, even if McDonald's and the dollar stores aren't off the beaten path it still lowers anyone's net profit from working there if because of circumstance they are forced to ride a bus to work because they aren't in proper shape to ride a bike or walk to work or if they have others things to do after working besides walking for two hours to go say eight miles or ride a bike for an hour to go the same distance. Also it would be a lot easier if they had a nice new car to drive to McDonald's to work. Taking a bus to work for most people I again without a proper statistical sample surmise is stressful in itself even though one hears a lot of interesting conversations on a bus, even an introvert like myself, and one learns a bit about the American angst of having fallen from the middle class that one doesn't realize riding about in a new car especially if one isn't fortunate enough to have another new car as well being driven by their hard working spouse to their well paying career work location. Again without a proper sample I notice that from looking and listening to people who ride the buses about town most of the bus customers don't seem to have a sufficient other in their lives, who has their backs in the good times and bad in life and have a well paying career as well, which although probably their fault, the bus customers, their fault that they are alone, they not having a proper car, nor a store of Capital, capital C, in the Bank, then that is for the lonely person on the bus, one of several indices that can lead to the American angst of having recently fallen from the middle class. I assume such a situation happens more often to introverts without properly chosen careers, a store of Capital in the Bank and successful life partners but such an assumption would be a sweeping statement which would be unscientific, being mere here-say [hear-say sic.] on my part. Speaking of hear-say evidence and improper rules of disavowed evidence in a court of law for this fallen American angel of the American angst to imply the estoppel evidence rule, to why him and other lower class bus riders deserve special consideration and subsidy because of the current lack of equity, inherent hardheartedness, and lack of opportunity involved in the pursuit of happiness in the Capitalistic system is disingenuous at best as well as just plain naive considering that everyone knows that if one is forced to rely on a estoppel defense in a court of Law, that one has a weak hand and is bound to lose before the court, estoppel defense, being here, in this argument that recently life has gotten so much the harder resulting in more and more good people falling out of the middle class in America even though once in some golden age there really was equal opportunity for all; when in fact any Jury knows that such was never the case and as any good lawyer knows Judge's have a very short attention span when it comes to interpreting the fairness of anything involving Equity either in court or Society at large. Summary Judgment being then Some are Bound to Lose. Case Dismissed.
Tuesday, March 14, 2017
every life should have more than one act but no more than five
every life should have more than one act but no more than five
fiction
edward w pritchard
Every life should have more than one act but no more than five. What I am meaning here is how a baby's eyes that one has connected with express thousands of unspoken thoughts and sentiments instantly to the a-tuned lover/ receptor [1] and how scientifically other than light going in to those fascinating eyes to the babies brain no known scientific material process substance or ray/wave is actually coming out of those beautiful and intriguing eyes to the a-tuned lover/receptor who more often than not is performing the ordinary, mundane task of caring for the " helpless" infant at the time of the mystic cosmic connection eye to eye in question; usually as the baby's Mother, but sometimes as dear old Grand Ma or Omey, Pa pa or just plain old ed. Prosaically that a-tuned connection between baby and grand-ma changes as baby matures and learns to communicate with language and predictably the nick names for Grandma change as the baby's masters the use of language and logical thought processes throughout the various " five acts' of a babies life.
The only other similar connection that old ed knows of that, that as expressed above, is, similarly non scientific and perhaps metaphysically/transcendent apparent is with a Lover, but in that case, unlike with a Baby which a receptor can have more than one connection with other babies, perhaps half a dozen, including children descendants and other grand children, with a Lover that eye to eye mystery, connection, happens only once. The other times being strictly organic and materialistic.
Many attuned persons throughout time have sensed/experienced the a-tuned lover/receptor eye to eye cosmic connection mentioned above in terms of " is there anything in iron clad reality and provable scientifically to suggest the actual existence of a soul, or spirit part of anything that survives the Body, after death" but alas such persons having the original sensed/ experience have never communicated the iron clad evidence after their death to scientifically prove the conundrum. Still many persons living and dead heart felt-ed-ly wonder if there is anything non material and scientifically provable that survives a defunct human after death. Of course there are other forces involved such as time/tensed time argument and as discussed recently the "selfish gene" theory [of Richard Dawkins], etc. etc.
1. original idea recently expressed by another
fiction
edward w pritchard
Every life should have more than one act but no more than five. What I am meaning here is how a baby's eyes that one has connected with express thousands of unspoken thoughts and sentiments instantly to the a-tuned lover/ receptor [1] and how scientifically other than light going in to those fascinating eyes to the babies brain no known scientific material process substance or ray/wave is actually coming out of those beautiful and intriguing eyes to the a-tuned lover/receptor who more often than not is performing the ordinary, mundane task of caring for the " helpless" infant at the time of the mystic cosmic connection eye to eye in question; usually as the baby's Mother, but sometimes as dear old Grand Ma or Omey, Pa pa or just plain old ed. Prosaically that a-tuned connection between baby and grand-ma changes as baby matures and learns to communicate with language and predictably the nick names for Grandma change as the baby's masters the use of language and logical thought processes throughout the various " five acts' of a babies life.
The only other similar connection that old ed knows of that, that as expressed above, is, similarly non scientific and perhaps metaphysically/transcendent apparent is with a Lover, but in that case, unlike with a Baby which a receptor can have more than one connection with other babies, perhaps half a dozen, including children descendants and other grand children, with a Lover that eye to eye mystery, connection, happens only once. The other times being strictly organic and materialistic.
Many attuned persons throughout time have sensed/experienced the a-tuned lover/receptor eye to eye cosmic connection mentioned above in terms of " is there anything in iron clad reality and provable scientifically to suggest the actual existence of a soul, or spirit part of anything that survives the Body, after death" but alas such persons having the original sensed/ experience have never communicated the iron clad evidence after their death to scientifically prove the conundrum. Still many persons living and dead heart felt-ed-ly wonder if there is anything non material and scientifically provable that survives a defunct human after death. Of course there are other forces involved such as time/tensed time argument and as discussed recently the "selfish gene" theory [of Richard Dawkins], etc. etc.
1. original idea recently expressed by another
Monday, March 13, 2017
the most unusual job a vagrant ever had
the most unusual job a vagrant ever had
fiction
edward w pritchard
Some time when I was in college, its confusing to remember now, I started on the punishment of holding somewhere between twenty five and thirty different and unrelated jobs and professions in the course of my so called career. It wasn't exactly my fault that I developed no security in life or went beyond the novice stage in so many ways of earning a living, every time I applied for a job I got it, although usually I was totally unprepared for the actual work involved in the day to day routines, and then after a lot of stumbling around, and a cloud of mental confusion on my part, I was sort of loved out of that particular business, although I was never actually fired or given a bad reverence. the plain fact was I looked properly to be in business and I was polite and intelligent especially for the first twenty years or so of my time in the commercial world. Later I developed an attitude toward free enterprise, capitalism, and the class system in America because of my lack of progress up the corporate ladder, dearth of security, and later dearth of the rewards and fruits of a life well spent in America of my time and place. But I digress
The most unusual job a vagrant ever had was when I worked down in the basement in the old vault, the one with the twelve foot thick cement walls lined with steel and the electronic timer on the impregnable steel door, that no one from the outside, bosses or fellow employees could open after I entered at nine AM until the end of my eight hour shift and half hour for lunch each day Monday to Friday back in 1986 at the old Goodyear bank there on main street in our home town. I was in charge of the loan collateral in a one man department which included a plethora of unusual items that over six hundred loan officers had diligently acquired over a fifty year period just before our friendly small town bank that was spectacularly successful was acquired in merger with the large New York bank and ran into the ground at least when it came to customer service and efficiency .
I had a CD player down in my job in the vault and listened to two or more complete CD's each day from the thousands we had as collateral, and used a very fine thick leather chair to sit on, also collateral from a bankrupt car dealers estate, and here's the good part, I smoked some of the marijuana that was additional collateral on the Briar's estate loans back before the concept of medical marijuana existed, that I deemed a good way to relieve the stress of a boring day. That job routine lasted day to day Monday to Friday for about fifteen glorious months until that awful day I opened a special letter from our company President who I met once or twice when receiving an award for a job well done down there in the vault, a letter which I tore in half as I read the eleven reasons why the upcoming merger with big New York made sense to the employees and stockholders of our small town Bank. Well the jig was up and I was back in the job market again, older but no wiser.
Later in my careers I specialized in watching the children and things like that and eventually qualified for the Social Security pension system here in America but sadly never got a corporate pension as well because other than working for more than two years in a law office as a runner once I never accrued the mandatory thirty years in one assignment to receive a defined pension plan from a benevolent employer. Somehow I am happy with my lot and seldom blame the system, it's the system, for my own personal shortcomings having taken the philosophical position that no one owes anyone a living or their daily bread that I heard someone say once somewhere or the other.
that's about it: a little advice from one in the trenches, or one crying out in the old wilderness on occasion
fiction
edward w pritchard
Some time when I was in college, its confusing to remember now, I started on the punishment of holding somewhere between twenty five and thirty different and unrelated jobs and professions in the course of my so called career. It wasn't exactly my fault that I developed no security in life or went beyond the novice stage in so many ways of earning a living, every time I applied for a job I got it, although usually I was totally unprepared for the actual work involved in the day to day routines, and then after a lot of stumbling around, and a cloud of mental confusion on my part, I was sort of loved out of that particular business, although I was never actually fired or given a bad reverence. the plain fact was I looked properly to be in business and I was polite and intelligent especially for the first twenty years or so of my time in the commercial world. Later I developed an attitude toward free enterprise, capitalism, and the class system in America because of my lack of progress up the corporate ladder, dearth of security, and later dearth of the rewards and fruits of a life well spent in America of my time and place. But I digress
The most unusual job a vagrant ever had was when I worked down in the basement in the old vault, the one with the twelve foot thick cement walls lined with steel and the electronic timer on the impregnable steel door, that no one from the outside, bosses or fellow employees could open after I entered at nine AM until the end of my eight hour shift and half hour for lunch each day Monday to Friday back in 1986 at the old Goodyear bank there on main street in our home town. I was in charge of the loan collateral in a one man department which included a plethora of unusual items that over six hundred loan officers had diligently acquired over a fifty year period just before our friendly small town bank that was spectacularly successful was acquired in merger with the large New York bank and ran into the ground at least when it came to customer service and efficiency .
I had a CD player down in my job in the vault and listened to two or more complete CD's each day from the thousands we had as collateral, and used a very fine thick leather chair to sit on, also collateral from a bankrupt car dealers estate, and here's the good part, I smoked some of the marijuana that was additional collateral on the Briar's estate loans back before the concept of medical marijuana existed, that I deemed a good way to relieve the stress of a boring day. That job routine lasted day to day Monday to Friday for about fifteen glorious months until that awful day I opened a special letter from our company President who I met once or twice when receiving an award for a job well done down there in the vault, a letter which I tore in half as I read the eleven reasons why the upcoming merger with big New York made sense to the employees and stockholders of our small town Bank. Well the jig was up and I was back in the job market again, older but no wiser.
Later in my careers I specialized in watching the children and things like that and eventually qualified for the Social Security pension system here in America but sadly never got a corporate pension as well because other than working for more than two years in a law office as a runner once I never accrued the mandatory thirty years in one assignment to receive a defined pension plan from a benevolent employer. Somehow I am happy with my lot and seldom blame the system, it's the system, for my own personal shortcomings having taken the philosophical position that no one owes anyone a living or their daily bread that I heard someone say once somewhere or the other.
that's about it: a little advice from one in the trenches, or one crying out in the old wilderness on occasion
Sunday, March 12, 2017
as I am so is all civilizations for all times
as I am so is all civilizations of all times
fiction
edward w pritchard
As I am so is all civilizations of all times; so write several prominent and important Germanic writers
such as Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Freud, Spengler and maybe Heidegger although no one ever finishes one of his essays. Mostly we postulate without science for verification, more fiction and creative daydreaming than fact synthesizing and fantasizing personal dilemmas and problems into epic growth cycles across the centuries progressing theologically toward me, my life, my discontents and most importantly my opinions.
Oh if only we all had been born in France with it's cafe society, and in my case could tolerate sitting around drinking coffee and had the social skills to have a few friends to listen to me and like the Frenchman Sartre a real woman, a willing feminist to sit with me and lean in toward me as I whispered life's secrets.
It all comes together mystically with the Germans then bullying an over confident Sartre and earlier today me sitting alone at the Panera bread reading a little Freud " Civilization and it's discontents" and I as an old man straining to find one of the women who is as attractive as females use to be back when, I was younger.
fiction
edward w pritchard
As I am so is all civilizations of all times; so write several prominent and important Germanic writers
such as Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Freud, Spengler and maybe Heidegger although no one ever finishes one of his essays. Mostly we postulate without science for verification, more fiction and creative daydreaming than fact synthesizing and fantasizing personal dilemmas and problems into epic growth cycles across the centuries progressing theologically toward me, my life, my discontents and most importantly my opinions.
Oh if only we all had been born in France with it's cafe society, and in my case could tolerate sitting around drinking coffee and had the social skills to have a few friends to listen to me and like the Frenchman Sartre a real woman, a willing feminist to sit with me and lean in toward me as I whispered life's secrets.
It all comes together mystically with the Germans then bullying an over confident Sartre and earlier today me sitting alone at the Panera bread reading a little Freud " Civilization and it's discontents" and I as an old man straining to find one of the women who is as attractive as females use to be back when, I was younger.
Saturday, March 4, 2017
quotable ed on travel
quotable ed on travel
fiction
edward w pritchard
Among the highest honors I can give myself is to quote myself to emphasize a point. Here are a few of my original thoughts presented as quotes on travel especially when it is a quest for self knowledge or enlightenment.
" no one returns from travel silent"
ed
" travel especially to other places is so exhausting"
ed
" Let's just not go"
ed
" a quest begins on a whim and ends on a thud"
ed
" pack the suitcase meticulously but be sure it will fit in the overhead compartment"
ed
fiction
edward w pritchard
Among the highest honors I can give myself is to quote myself to emphasize a point. Here are a few of my original thoughts presented as quotes on travel especially when it is a quest for self knowledge or enlightenment.
" no one returns from travel silent"
ed
" travel especially to other places is so exhausting"
ed
" Let's just not go"
ed
" a quest begins on a whim and ends on a thud"
ed
" pack the suitcase meticulously but be sure it will fit in the overhead compartment"
ed
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