a sense of belonging; I am he but there is no me/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
David Hume says that there is no me, it's just a collection of properties. Eye brows, toe nails and memories of the time I got robbed at gunpoint. Some Buddhists agree with Hume for other reasons; there is no self.
We discussed the ship of Theseus, the Ancient Greek idea that if a ship is totally reconstructed with new materials is it the same ship?
Ego, famous people have 1000 pictures of themselves over a life time on Google images but they are not them.
Go to the art museum and look at the Greek vase with the painted soldiers on the side. The vase is 2500 years old. Is the picture of the soldier- himself?
Let go your ego and sense of self and you are on the path to enlightenment say the Buddhists.
Can you forgo your sense of self? If there is no self how can there be souls?
If there is no self and no soul what is there?
Metaphysical speculation. Is a person and an apple both just a collection of properties that came together and are gone?
The ancient Egyptians thought a person was made up of five properties. Two physical, the name and shadow and three invisible properties, the Ka- the life force, the ba, the personality, and akh, the spirit. The Egyptians believed in an after life and spent considerable effort to prepare for it.
Atheism and metaphysical speculation; is a person and an apple both just a collection of properties that came together and are soon gone?
I don't know but I suspect there is more.
Monday, March 31, 2014
a sense of belonging
a sense of belonging
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Many of us are alone and being alone and in a solitary environment can cause a certain misery depending on one's expectations and beliefs concerning affiliations and friendships.
One affiliation that I renew each April that connects me to the place I live in and with others I don't know but who become a part of me for a few months is my willingness to become a hopeful fan of the Cleveland Indians baseball team.
Each Spring since I was seven I over estimate the strength of our local baseball team. By end July they usually have let me down and some years they have actually broken my heart.
Still hope grows anew this time each year. The first game will be played soon.
My brothers and I and a friend or two are arguing over the Cleveland Indians record this year. Predictions are from 95 to the low of 85. The 85 is my guess, the lowball fans choice for wins for our local team the Cleveland Indians.
Hitting is promising barring injuries but our pitching is so/so. Speed is fair but already injuries have hurt us. We don't have much major league type power. Our coach is a players guy, we are not sure if that is good or bad. The record will settle later if we had a successful year.
Or does the record matter at all?
For a few months each Spring I am one of thousands of local hopeful fans of the Cleveland Indians. I argue passionately with fellow fans concerning my expectations and beliefs about the success of our team. I can talk to people I don't know in line at Wal Mart about how our team is doing and the woes they are causing us with weak pitching and no power. Will this August's lament of the day locally be about all the pitchers we have brought up or salvaged from around the league with sore arms, losing records and unfamiliar names?
First game this week.
I, me, we, and us are on the edge of our seats around the TV and radios hoping for a winning year by our team the Cleveland Indians.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Many of us are alone and being alone and in a solitary environment can cause a certain misery depending on one's expectations and beliefs concerning affiliations and friendships.
One affiliation that I renew each April that connects me to the place I live in and with others I don't know but who become a part of me for a few months is my willingness to become a hopeful fan of the Cleveland Indians baseball team.
Each Spring since I was seven I over estimate the strength of our local baseball team. By end July they usually have let me down and some years they have actually broken my heart.
Still hope grows anew this time each year. The first game will be played soon.
My brothers and I and a friend or two are arguing over the Cleveland Indians record this year. Predictions are from 95 to the low of 85. The 85 is my guess, the lowball fans choice for wins for our local team the Cleveland Indians.
Hitting is promising barring injuries but our pitching is so/so. Speed is fair but already injuries have hurt us. We don't have much major league type power. Our coach is a players guy, we are not sure if that is good or bad. The record will settle later if we had a successful year.
Or does the record matter at all?
For a few months each Spring I am one of thousands of local hopeful fans of the Cleveland Indians. I argue passionately with fellow fans concerning my expectations and beliefs about the success of our team. I can talk to people I don't know in line at Wal Mart about how our team is doing and the woes they are causing us with weak pitching and no power. Will this August's lament of the day locally be about all the pitchers we have brought up or salvaged from around the league with sore arms, losing records and unfamiliar names?
First game this week.
I, me, we, and us are on the edge of our seats around the TV and radios hoping for a winning year by our team the Cleveland Indians.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
crying baby in a sports bar
crying baby in a sports bar
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Over looking a series of lakes, with long low floor to ceiling windows, the tan hardwood floors of the darkening sports bar echoed the wailing of the crying baby. The waitress was a teenage girl, the bar maid had never had children and no women were to be found on the premises. For some unknown reason the baby girl's Father had chosen to bring the crying child to the sports bar on a Saturday night to watch tournament basketball and play euchre. We found out later the baby's Father and the wife were separating and divorcing. Baby girl looked well cared for with an expensive blanket wrapping her warmly bundled all in pink.
The euchre players had exhausted themselves trying to quiet the crying girl. The waitress had disappeared and the bar maid had become sullen at the noise as only a pretty bar maid can properly do on a cold Saturday night at a hot sports bar overlooking a series of frozen Lakes.
My old man was standing very tall as he picked up the sobbing child I remember. He had those huge hands and they reminded me of a boxer with the gnarled knuckles as he cradled the pink blanket and baby to his chest.
My Father walked about carefully carrying the limp girl talking quietly to her while avoiding protruding chairs while always facing the water keeping as far away from the customers as he could be and still always be by the windows. Except when he asked the bar girl who was washing glasses at the bar in the center of the room to turn down the sound on the basketball game he stayed by the windows.
My Dad handed the sleeping girl to the Mother carefully when she rushed into the bar, I remember she put her hand to my father's face when she left with her daughter. After my Father talked to the baby's Father for a long time over in the far corner while I played Euchre with the other three guys at their table.
The baby's Father shook hands with my Dad when we left; me, I was a little wobbly from drinking free beers the euchre guys bought me. Even the bar maid gave us a free drink after Dad calmed the baby girl.
Walking out to the car I noticed the old man still walked a little straighter than usual. Try as I might as I told the story after I never could remember my old man carrying me about back when I was the child.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Over looking a series of lakes, with long low floor to ceiling windows, the tan hardwood floors of the darkening sports bar echoed the wailing of the crying baby. The waitress was a teenage girl, the bar maid had never had children and no women were to be found on the premises. For some unknown reason the baby girl's Father had chosen to bring the crying child to the sports bar on a Saturday night to watch tournament basketball and play euchre. We found out later the baby's Father and the wife were separating and divorcing. Baby girl looked well cared for with an expensive blanket wrapping her warmly bundled all in pink.
The euchre players had exhausted themselves trying to quiet the crying girl. The waitress had disappeared and the bar maid had become sullen at the noise as only a pretty bar maid can properly do on a cold Saturday night at a hot sports bar overlooking a series of frozen Lakes.
My old man was standing very tall as he picked up the sobbing child I remember. He had those huge hands and they reminded me of a boxer with the gnarled knuckles as he cradled the pink blanket and baby to his chest.
My Father walked about carefully carrying the limp girl talking quietly to her while avoiding protruding chairs while always facing the water keeping as far away from the customers as he could be and still always be by the windows. Except when he asked the bar girl who was washing glasses at the bar in the center of the room to turn down the sound on the basketball game he stayed by the windows.
My Dad handed the sleeping girl to the Mother carefully when she rushed into the bar, I remember she put her hand to my father's face when she left with her daughter. After my Father talked to the baby's Father for a long time over in the far corner while I played Euchre with the other three guys at their table.
The baby's Father shook hands with my Dad when we left; me, I was a little wobbly from drinking free beers the euchre guys bought me. Even the bar maid gave us a free drink after Dad calmed the baby girl.
Walking out to the car I noticed the old man still walked a little straighter than usual. Try as I might as I told the story after I never could remember my old man carrying me about back when I was the child.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
God given talent; Macyn Taylor
God given talent; Macyn Taylor
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You tube is an ideal place to display God given talent before it moves on to another area of life. Case in point Macyn Taylor playing "I Get the Blues When It Rains" on you tube.
I was fortunate enough once to hear " I get the blues when it rains" preformed on a long rainy afternoon in the Quarter in New Orleans. I haven't heard the song since, but as I remember things it was Kuumba Williams I heard singing at a club in New Orleans.
Skipping about you tube the other day I came across a cover by Macyn Taylor of "I get the blues when it rains". I enjoyed Macyn Taylor's performance and guitar playing immensely.
Technical production wasn't top notch in the you tube production I watched, it never is. A baby ran about the set and one suspects that Macyn Taylor has macaroni boiling on the stove in the kitchen but the music, but the music.
Where does such talent come from? Macyn Taylor looks like just another pretty girl one would see walking about the local University campus. However her guitar playing is so enjoyable to listen to. Her voice is just authentic, nothing more needed.
Check out Macyn Taylor on you tube, if she wants to she is going places as a singer although one suspects she will excel at whatever she chooses to do with her life.
Listen to Macyn Taylor sing on you tube; it's almost as good as sitting at a small table in a club in New Orleans on a long rainy afternoon hearing the song " I get the blues when it rains" for the first time.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You tube is an ideal place to display God given talent before it moves on to another area of life. Case in point Macyn Taylor playing "I Get the Blues When It Rains" on you tube.
I was fortunate enough once to hear " I get the blues when it rains" preformed on a long rainy afternoon in the Quarter in New Orleans. I haven't heard the song since, but as I remember things it was Kuumba Williams I heard singing at a club in New Orleans.
Skipping about you tube the other day I came across a cover by Macyn Taylor of "I get the blues when it rains". I enjoyed Macyn Taylor's performance and guitar playing immensely.
Technical production wasn't top notch in the you tube production I watched, it never is. A baby ran about the set and one suspects that Macyn Taylor has macaroni boiling on the stove in the kitchen but the music, but the music.
Where does such talent come from? Macyn Taylor looks like just another pretty girl one would see walking about the local University campus. However her guitar playing is so enjoyable to listen to. Her voice is just authentic, nothing more needed.
Check out Macyn Taylor on you tube, if she wants to she is going places as a singer although one suspects she will excel at whatever she chooses to do with her life.
Listen to Macyn Taylor sing on you tube; it's almost as good as sitting at a small table in a club in New Orleans on a long rainy afternoon hearing the song " I get the blues when it rains" for the first time.
the mature woman
the mature woman
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
An intelligent woman more than likely plans their conversations. No more staccato bursts of oration.
Still distantly familiar despite a residual foreign weariness the voice of an intelligent mature woman flows along until all their points are connected and then abruptly discourse is terminated.
As a woman gets older they may get upset but are seldom surprised. But that throaty torch singer type voice can still be interesting to listen to.
Better to wait for her call. Like the CEO of a small company an intelligent mature woman dislikes surprises preferring a planned discourse until all their points are covered and connected but that throaty torch singer type voice can still be familiar to listen to.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
An intelligent woman more than likely plans their conversations. No more staccato bursts of oration.
Still distantly familiar despite a residual foreign weariness the voice of an intelligent mature woman flows along until all their points are connected and then abruptly discourse is terminated.
As a woman gets older they may get upset but are seldom surprised. But that throaty torch singer type voice can still be interesting to listen to.
Better to wait for her call. Like the CEO of a small company an intelligent mature woman dislikes surprises preferring a planned discourse until all their points are covered and connected but that throaty torch singer type voice can still be familiar to listen to.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
a farewell to arms; a muddy rain drenched stroll across Italy
a farewell to arms; a muddy rain drenched stroll across Italy
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Life is like a scene from Ernest Hemingway's retreat scene in Italy in World War One in his novel " A Farewell to Arms".
Every one in Italy is retreating in the face of the German advance. All is in Chaos.
The Lieutenant played in the movie version by Gary Cooper and in a later version by Rock Hudson is leading his friend the Italian surgeon who has gone half mad with battle fatigue. They must walk because the ambulance has broken down and hundreds of refugees crowd the roads. Refugees are strafed by planes as they march in the dark across rain drenched muddy roads cluttered with the cast off possessions of the dead and dying.
The surgeon who is an Italian major is accused of being a German agent or sympathizer and is tried and shot. The lieutenant moments before he is to be executed bolts away and dives in a raging river to escape.
After herculean struggles the lieutenant throws off his uniform and allegiances and seeks only his life back.
Struggle on. Chose life. Bad times do not last forever. Some good happens, some bad too, just keep marching forward.
March through a wet crowded chaotic landscape. Tomorrow will be better. Reclaim your life.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Life is like a scene from Ernest Hemingway's retreat scene in Italy in World War One in his novel " A Farewell to Arms".
Every one in Italy is retreating in the face of the German advance. All is in Chaos.
The Lieutenant played in the movie version by Gary Cooper and in a later version by Rock Hudson is leading his friend the Italian surgeon who has gone half mad with battle fatigue. They must walk because the ambulance has broken down and hundreds of refugees crowd the roads. Refugees are strafed by planes as they march in the dark across rain drenched muddy roads cluttered with the cast off possessions of the dead and dying.
The surgeon who is an Italian major is accused of being a German agent or sympathizer and is tried and shot. The lieutenant moments before he is to be executed bolts away and dives in a raging river to escape.
After herculean struggles the lieutenant throws off his uniform and allegiances and seeks only his life back.
Struggle on. Chose life. Bad times do not last forever. Some good happens, some bad too, just keep marching forward.
March through a wet crowded chaotic landscape. Tomorrow will be better. Reclaim your life.
dirty dealings, cronyism and malfeasance in office in Mayberry
dirty dealings, cronyism and malfeasance in office in Mayberry
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A Big time City newspaper editor and Publisher seeking revenge on hick, too good to be true sheriff of Mayberry Andy Griffith, sends a foreign reporter [ she's Canadian], in disguise to Mayberry, North Carolina sometime in the near distant past, to ruin good guy Taylor. Sexy reporter posing as a " college kid" according to Deputy Fife accuses said Sheriff Taylor of Cronyism, dirty dealings and malfeasance in office.
Informal trial and hearing is held in the local courthouse.
At trial hick deputy Fife turns tables on big city lawyer with from the heart testimony and exposes school girl reporter for what she is " big City fast fun girl come to Mayberry to cause trouble with unsuspecting Men."
Episode ends happily, Emma Watson gets her medicine, delivered in fruit jars carried in trunk of squad car [ Emma Watson not to be confused with Harry Potter actress].
Barney and Andy still friends but seeds of discord are planted that leads Fife to move to " threes company" playing role of a strangely dressed comedian who has lost his mojo.
Interestingly town drunk Otis is credited in " Variety" as being in episode but never appears but is only mentioned in oral testimony between Fife and school girl reporter. In infamy Otis will now always be remembered as a drunk because of the internet.
Ruta Lee who plays reporter was also in "7 brides for 7 brothers" not to be confused with " 7" the horror story with Brad Pitt as a new detective whose wife loses her " pretty little head".
Later in Mayberry series the theme of Taylor's malfeasance is revisited when Barney accuses Andy of 76 counts of malfeasance when they run against each other for sheriff.
Politics can be a little confusing at times.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A Big time City newspaper editor and Publisher seeking revenge on hick, too good to be true sheriff of Mayberry Andy Griffith, sends a foreign reporter [ she's Canadian], in disguise to Mayberry, North Carolina sometime in the near distant past, to ruin good guy Taylor. Sexy reporter posing as a " college kid" according to Deputy Fife accuses said Sheriff Taylor of Cronyism, dirty dealings and malfeasance in office.
Informal trial and hearing is held in the local courthouse.
At trial hick deputy Fife turns tables on big city lawyer with from the heart testimony and exposes school girl reporter for what she is " big City fast fun girl come to Mayberry to cause trouble with unsuspecting Men."
Episode ends happily, Emma Watson gets her medicine, delivered in fruit jars carried in trunk of squad car [ Emma Watson not to be confused with Harry Potter actress].
Barney and Andy still friends but seeds of discord are planted that leads Fife to move to " threes company" playing role of a strangely dressed comedian who has lost his mojo.
Interestingly town drunk Otis is credited in " Variety" as being in episode but never appears but is only mentioned in oral testimony between Fife and school girl reporter. In infamy Otis will now always be remembered as a drunk because of the internet.
Ruta Lee who plays reporter was also in "7 brides for 7 brothers" not to be confused with " 7" the horror story with Brad Pitt as a new detective whose wife loses her " pretty little head".
Later in Mayberry series the theme of Taylor's malfeasance is revisited when Barney accuses Andy of 76 counts of malfeasance when they run against each other for sheriff.
Politics can be a little confusing at times.
riding with General Custer, a few more battles with Indians and then I'll apply for pension
riding with General Custer, a few more battles with Indians and then I'll apply for pension
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Riding with General Custer, a few more battles with Indians and then I'll apply for pension.
A pension is a good thing to have but a difficult friend to wait for. Admired in a son in law is a fine pension. Leaned on in a spouse is a solid pension. Somehow the whole Suburban neighborhood out where I live is made up of lucky souls with good pensions.
How to survive the job until you can get the Pension? As General Custer's men knew before the Pension the job must supply good Health benefits; proper health insurance for a man and his family is a must. To collect the pension you must be alive.
Some folks, teachers and such make just a little money but somehow save a bundle into their pensions. It turns out to be a timely investment. No need for Teachers and Government employees to study the stock market or commodity future contracts to pad the 401K. Just don't take the lump sum option at retirement and the geniuses who run your State pension fund will pay back the money you invested in your pension fund at 12% return per annum over the entire time you worked. It adds up. If you can wait a hundred years to collect the first thousand you invested turns into one hundred thirty million after tax payer matching is figured in.
Envy not those lucky souls with pensions. They invested wisely and the invisible hand of Capitalism rewards a proper choice of career.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Riding with General Custer, a few more battles with Indians and then I'll apply for pension.
A pension is a good thing to have but a difficult friend to wait for. Admired in a son in law is a fine pension. Leaned on in a spouse is a solid pension. Somehow the whole Suburban neighborhood out where I live is made up of lucky souls with good pensions.
How to survive the job until you can get the Pension? As General Custer's men knew before the Pension the job must supply good Health benefits; proper health insurance for a man and his family is a must. To collect the pension you must be alive.
Some folks, teachers and such make just a little money but somehow save a bundle into their pensions. It turns out to be a timely investment. No need for Teachers and Government employees to study the stock market or commodity future contracts to pad the 401K. Just don't take the lump sum option at retirement and the geniuses who run your State pension fund will pay back the money you invested in your pension fund at 12% return per annum over the entire time you worked. It adds up. If you can wait a hundred years to collect the first thousand you invested turns into one hundred thirty million after tax payer matching is figured in.
Envy not those lucky souls with pensions. They invested wisely and the invisible hand of Capitalism rewards a proper choice of career.
Monday, March 24, 2014
suspense and surprise grip the world over the missing airliner/ part 2
fiction
Edward w pritchard
suspense and surprise grip the world over the missing airliner/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Is it a small world or a very large world?
To us as individuals a small world but to all humans as a species, as The Collective Consciousness of this planet it's a very large world, too large when we are looking for lost individuals who probabilities and statistics whisper to us are individuals that are lost in a distant cold ocean. A plane full of souls is lost in the cold salty brine we fear but tremble to pronounce.
To us as individuals a small world but to all humans as a species, as The Collective Consciousness of this planet it's a very large world, too large when we are looking for lost individuals who probabilities and statistics whisper to us are individuals that are lost in a distant cold ocean. A plane full of souls is lost in the cold salty brine we fear but tremble to pronounce.
Pray for the lost souls from the missing Malaysian airliner. Let all Countries join the search for the missing souls. Those who can't search should pray for the souls of the lost.
As I wrote before about the "Beautiful Dreamer" in the Stephen Foster song pray for the beautiful dreamers, the souls of our collective consciousness missing somewhere under the seas.
Here's what Steven Foster Wrote before in verse two of "beautiful dreamer", then my original blog on the missing airliner and my original blog on Stephen Foster's "beautiful dreamer."
Let Stephen Foster's vanished soul help us find the missing souls from the Malaysian airliner. Let us pull together temporarily as a species of Souls to find them.
verse two beautiful dreamer/ Stephen Foster/ 1862
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelei;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Here's what Steven Foster Wrote before in verse two of "beautiful dreamer", then my original blog on the missing airliner and my original blog on Stephen Foster's "beautiful dreamer."
Let Stephen Foster's vanished soul help us find the missing souls from the Malaysian airliner. Let us pull together temporarily as a species of Souls to find them.
verse two beautiful dreamer/ Stephen Foster/ 1862
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelei;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Missing airliner/ part 1/ this author
As I write this we, the world anxiously waits for news in suspense and in surprise over the fate of the passengers on a missing Malaysian airliner.
Suspense because the airliner disappeared from the tracking grid and surprise because despite rescue efforts no trace of the airplane can be detected. It's unusual now a days for anything to be off the grid.
We are surprised and fearful for awhile that no one seems to know with certainty what has happened to the missing plane.
Missing people cause us distress. Each missing passenger has people distressed over their fate. In such a situation fearful grieving loved ones do not want to hear scientific explanations or probabilities. People terrified of the worse for their loved ones want to believe in an all powerful God who orders events and outcomes and can miraculously rescues those they love.
When things happen out of the ordinary it can temporarily upset the order of the World, even a world ruled by probabilities and scientific explanations.
Secretly, ask God this Sunday morning for a positive outcome for the missing passengers on the Malaysian Plane.
As I write this we, the world anxiously waits for news in suspense and in surprise over the fate of the passengers on a missing Malaysian airliner.
Suspense because the airliner disappeared from the tracking grid and surprise because despite rescue efforts no trace of the airplane can be detected. It's unusual now a days for anything to be off the grid.
We are surprised and fearful for awhile that no one seems to know with certainty what has happened to the missing plane.
Missing people cause us distress. Each missing passenger has people distressed over their fate. In such a situation fearful grieving loved ones do not want to hear scientific explanations or probabilities. People terrified of the worse for their loved ones want to believe in an all powerful God who orders events and outcomes and can miraculously rescues those they love.
When things happen out of the ordinary it can temporarily upset the order of the World, even a world ruled by probabilities and scientific explanations.
Secretly, ask God this Sunday morning for a positive outcome for the missing passengers on the Malaysian Plane.
Stephen Foster and time; dear friends and gentle hearts/draft 1
fiction
edward w Pritchard
Reader please listen to the song as you read the story, lyrics below for reference
No song captures times past like "Beautiful Dreamer " by Stephen Foster, but in addition to capturing past times, the song "Beautiful Dreamer" captures the ephemeral essence of time itself. Stephen Foster's melody and lyric seem anciently familiar but modern and timeless in the love song " Beautiful Dreamer".
Few songs accommodate the subtlety of the quiet serenity of accompaniment offered by the piano as hauntingly and effectively as the song " Beautiful Dreamer". Even the non-musician can discern the subtle intimacy between the performers voice and the intricacy of the timing of the notes played on a piano during a rendition of " Beautiful Dreamer". The melody is repetitive but peaceful; is the sleeping lover deep in dreams or dead?
Stephen Foster uses the Moon, the stars and the Sea in the lyrics of "Beautiful Dreamer" to set the tone for the love song. One's lover is deep asleep, daily life is hard, but the lover must awaken from sleep and dreams to experience love and the release from life's daily throng by hearing the Lover's serenade. The sleeper is the Queen which is serenaded in Foster's song written in 1862; the Queen' s serenade sounds like music from the still and distant past, the music of our ancient relatives, yet the music sounds modern as well and could certainly be re-released today and be popular.
But what of the song " Beautiful Dreamer" enables the song to capture the ephemeral essence of time itself? Maybe it's the unusual 9/8 timing. Difficult to understand intellectually but the ear likes it, the music of dreams, or perhaps death.
Is Stephen Foster's Queen he serenades himself; a part of himself he is trying to awaken? When Foster wrote the song" Beautiful Dreamer" he was two years or less from his untimely death at 37, broke, having sold his songs for pittance and his wife and daughter had left him again. Foster calls to the Queen of his past to put together his life anew; Beautiful dreamer awake onto me. Too late however, his past has overtaken him and now haunts him nightly in his dreams. Life is leaving Stephen Foster behind as it does us all in the end, we become the ghost that the people of the future intuit late at night or when they are tired.
Stephen Foster calls to us from the past; greeting us as dear friends. In answer surrender to Stephen Foster's "Beautiful Dreamer" and hear the soft voice and gentle heart serenade us as we struggle in pain with the cares of life's ephemeral sorrows. When will all sorrow depart?
Lyrics/ all copyrights expired
Beautiful Dreamer by Stephen Foster 1862
1.
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
2.
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea,
Mermaids are chanting the wild lorelei;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
end
Sunday, March 23, 2014
ATT. in ecstasy
ATT. in Ecstasy
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
This article is about the ATT commercial with the cute Black family all who look like the Dad and all who dress alike and wear glasses. The sales lady from ATT tells the Dad that she has good news, their new phone bill is now only $160 a month. The family is so happy with the news.
I had ATT once back when I first got married and had a new phone in our first apartment. Every night when I came in after work during dinner ATT would call and offer to double my phone bill from ten dollars a month to twenty with some new features. I never said yes.
ATT is the company that as I remember was broken up by the government for monopoly pricing back in the 80's. Now ATT can with a straight face offer a bargain rate for phone service of $160 a month.
It's 1982 all over again, the more things change the more they stay the same.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
This article is about the ATT commercial with the cute Black family all who look like the Dad and all who dress alike and wear glasses. The sales lady from ATT tells the Dad that she has good news, their new phone bill is now only $160 a month. The family is so happy with the news.
I had ATT once back when I first got married and had a new phone in our first apartment. Every night when I came in after work during dinner ATT would call and offer to double my phone bill from ten dollars a month to twenty with some new features. I never said yes.
ATT is the company that as I remember was broken up by the government for monopoly pricing back in the 80's. Now ATT can with a straight face offer a bargain rate for phone service of $160 a month.
It's 1982 all over again, the more things change the more they stay the same.
Been spoofed lately?
Been spoofed lately
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I am not the kind of person who enjoys practical jokes but I was the recent victim of a spoof.
A spoof was originally a word game invented by a British comedian Arthur Roberts. Spoof has come to mean as a slang word to con someone or a parody. Old Arthur Roberts the comedian and his high brow friends probably loved to play a hoax or two on an unsuspecting naive victim at a party back when the British empire ruled the world.
I fell for a spoof perpetrated by Hollywood today. I consider myself a Historian and enjoy watching historical fiction in film.
Today I had the opportunity to see actors Ronald Reagan and Errol Flynn in " The Old Santa Fe Trail" on Retro television.
story is in progress, to be continued
Let's try again:
Ronald Reagan as Custer and Errol Flynn as Jeb Stewart are two friends from West Point back in the 1850's who are competing for the same girl played by Olivia DeHavillan. At a party Olivia introduces Ronald to her college roommate so she and Errol can court. The roommate is a "dishy" blond whose Father in the movie is a short Abe Lincoln. Abe is four inches shorter than Robert E Lee in the scene. Meanwhile John Brown formerly of Hudson Ohio is preparing to attack Harper's Ferry.
Why was I spoofed? By watching this goofy movie again. Three times I have tried to watch it over the years. Abe Lincoln didn't have a daughter. John Brown is among the most complex and intriguing characters in American History and Raymond Massey plays a convincing John Brown. I liked Ronald Reagan better as a President than as an actor in this film. As for the Santa Fe trail part the Railroad comes off as the hero of that segment. The bottom line on the movie? A Convoluted History of some events leading to the Civil War. Fun to watch but I prefer a Ken Burns documentary of the American West or the Civil War. Maybe in 1940's it was nice to have heroes who always beat the bad guys.
What am I trying to say. A fantastic cast and a mediocre script. I'll give the movie " The Santa Fe Trail" a B- for watching for entertainment value only.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I am not the kind of person who enjoys practical jokes but I was the recent victim of a spoof.
A spoof was originally a word game invented by a British comedian Arthur Roberts. Spoof has come to mean as a slang word to con someone or a parody. Old Arthur Roberts the comedian and his high brow friends probably loved to play a hoax or two on an unsuspecting naive victim at a party back when the British empire ruled the world.
I fell for a spoof perpetrated by Hollywood today. I consider myself a Historian and enjoy watching historical fiction in film.
Today I had the opportunity to see actors Ronald Reagan and Errol Flynn in " The Old Santa Fe Trail" on Retro television.
story is in progress, to be continued
Let's try again:
Ronald Reagan as Custer and Errol Flynn as Jeb Stewart are two friends from West Point back in the 1850's who are competing for the same girl played by Olivia DeHavillan. At a party Olivia introduces Ronald to her college roommate so she and Errol can court. The roommate is a "dishy" blond whose Father in the movie is a short Abe Lincoln. Abe is four inches shorter than Robert E Lee in the scene. Meanwhile John Brown formerly of Hudson Ohio is preparing to attack Harper's Ferry.
Why was I spoofed? By watching this goofy movie again. Three times I have tried to watch it over the years. Abe Lincoln didn't have a daughter. John Brown is among the most complex and intriguing characters in American History and Raymond Massey plays a convincing John Brown. I liked Ronald Reagan better as a President than as an actor in this film. As for the Santa Fe trail part the Railroad comes off as the hero of that segment. The bottom line on the movie? A Convoluted History of some events leading to the Civil War. Fun to watch but I prefer a Ken Burns documentary of the American West or the Civil War. Maybe in 1940's it was nice to have heroes who always beat the bad guys.
What am I trying to say. A fantastic cast and a mediocre script. I'll give the movie " The Santa Fe Trail" a B- for watching for entertainment value only.
sleeping money decides when to redecorate the urban landsides
sleeping money decides when to redecorate the urban landsides
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Where I live there are a lot of empty buildings that once housed booming businesses, businesses that employed local workers and were an important end destination to citizens living there about. Now the empty buildings slowly decompose and fade every year becoming further devalued on the local taxing jurisdiction's tax assessment registers.
Along the railroad tracks in the towns of Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron in Ohio huge long weather beaten ancient dark buildings line the railroad tracks running from Baltimore toward Chicago obsolete in use but silently waiting for sleeping money to decide when to redecorate the urban landscapes with their destruction.
Buildings that once helped bring about flight, helped win two World Wars, helped America race into space slowly decompose in the evening sun.
Once entrepreneurial capitalists rode into Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and eagerly surveyed urban landscapes with an eye to profits and calculated return on investment and equity looking for places to build their new manufacturing factories.
As jet planes fly from Baltimore to Chicago at four hundred miles per hour, when will sleeping money glance down at the obsolete buildings along the railroad tracks in Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron, imagine new productive uses for the empty dark buildings lining the urban landsides in Ohio.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Where I live there are a lot of empty buildings that once housed booming businesses, businesses that employed local workers and were an important end destination to citizens living there about. Now the empty buildings slowly decompose and fade every year becoming further devalued on the local taxing jurisdiction's tax assessment registers.
Along the railroad tracks in the towns of Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron in Ohio huge long weather beaten ancient dark buildings line the railroad tracks running from Baltimore toward Chicago obsolete in use but silently waiting for sleeping money to decide when to redecorate the urban landscapes with their destruction.
Buildings that once helped bring about flight, helped win two World Wars, helped America race into space slowly decompose in the evening sun.
Once entrepreneurial capitalists rode into Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and eagerly surveyed urban landscapes with an eye to profits and calculated return on investment and equity looking for places to build their new manufacturing factories.
As jet planes fly from Baltimore to Chicago at four hundred miles per hour, when will sleeping money glance down at the obsolete buildings along the railroad tracks in Youngstown, Ravenna and Akron, imagine new productive uses for the empty dark buildings lining the urban landsides in Ohio.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
flat punked out toward the end of Mardi Gras
flat punked out toward the end of Mardi Gras
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After a week of celebration and excess I am always flat punked out toward the end of Mardi Gras.
Mardi Gras is a religious fete after all and the spiritual feelings awakened in me sometime during my week at Mardi Gras in New Orleans will cause me and my companion to feel the need of repentance and sober contrite behavior.
A soft rain will be falling early in the French quarter. The noise will have stopped about 5AM and all the police will be taking a well deserved nap and not one piano or saxophone will echo about.
Each of us take a long hot shower and put on some sensible clothes the kind that cover your body and modesty conceal what wasn't meant to be seen. Then it's to the Café du Monde for white powdery beneits with hot tea for me stark black coffee for her. Whispered conversation and each reading half a news paper. The business or religious news will do fine.
Then it's a long drive in a taxi or street car to a botanical garden. Life is in colorful bloom and a million flowers and plants welcome Spring in nature's annual Bacchanalia.
Sitting in the airport for the ride home it's a long time before I want to search a riotous convulsing crowd with my eyes for a glimpse of sets of colorful beads.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After a week of celebration and excess I am always flat punked out toward the end of Mardi Gras.
Mardi Gras is a religious fete after all and the spiritual feelings awakened in me sometime during my week at Mardi Gras in New Orleans will cause me and my companion to feel the need of repentance and sober contrite behavior.
A soft rain will be falling early in the French quarter. The noise will have stopped about 5AM and all the police will be taking a well deserved nap and not one piano or saxophone will echo about.
Each of us take a long hot shower and put on some sensible clothes the kind that cover your body and modesty conceal what wasn't meant to be seen. Then it's to the Café du Monde for white powdery beneits with hot tea for me stark black coffee for her. Whispered conversation and each reading half a news paper. The business or religious news will do fine.
Then it's a long drive in a taxi or street car to a botanical garden. Life is in colorful bloom and a million flowers and plants welcome Spring in nature's annual Bacchanalia.
Sitting in the airport for the ride home it's a long time before I want to search a riotous convulsing crowd with my eyes for a glimpse of sets of colorful beads.
Friday, March 21, 2014
moving on after awkward
moving on after awkward
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Some of us are too sensitive and it's difficult to move on with life after an awkward moment and an awkward moment involves most any social situation. Say or intimate the wrong thought or sentiment and some ones toes are stepped upon and an awkward silence hearkens hurt feelings.
Easier sometimes to spend time alone, with the horses or in nature. Perhaps a long walk tomorrow.
Sometimes it's just better to be busy without time or inclination to analyze the behavior of others.
As for myself life was so much easier after a beer or two; taking the edge off of remembrance of the things said and done and for an hour it's a mellow mindfulness.
Whistle a sad tune and throw a rock at the half Moon and try to forget another day until nightly dreams reinterprets events and tomorrow forgets yesterday.
Alone in a crowd and melancholy in solitude.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Some of us are too sensitive and it's difficult to move on with life after an awkward moment and an awkward moment involves most any social situation. Say or intimate the wrong thought or sentiment and some ones toes are stepped upon and an awkward silence hearkens hurt feelings.
Easier sometimes to spend time alone, with the horses or in nature. Perhaps a long walk tomorrow.
Sometimes it's just better to be busy without time or inclination to analyze the behavior of others.
As for myself life was so much easier after a beer or two; taking the edge off of remembrance of the things said and done and for an hour it's a mellow mindfulness.
Whistle a sad tune and throw a rock at the half Moon and try to forget another day until nightly dreams reinterprets events and tomorrow forgets yesterday.
Alone in a crowd and melancholy in solitude.
the return of austerity, preparing for a return of the Cold War with Russia
the return of austerity, preparing for a return of the Cold War with Russia
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As a boy the Russians were threatening the American way of life and to prepare to face the challenge I began a regiment of push ups and wind sprints. When I advised my friends to do the same they raced off on their bikes and yelled- paranoid.
Now half a century later Russia rattles their sword a bit and I again must prepare for the return of austerity by preparing for a return of the cold war with Russia.
As a start I will turn off my electric blanket at 6AM, mustn't waste energy. No more driving from restaurant to restaurant for components of my fast food meals either; Putin benefits if we squander gasoline. Maybe a return to my bike, five minutes a day on the stationary bicycle listening to patriotic American music on the headphones at the gym to find strength through joy.
No more Russian cultural admiration either. No Tolstoy, no 1812 overture and no caviar or borscht. No looking for Russian looking models in the men's magazines either.
American's eye all things Russian with suspicion. Our enemy is among us again. Do not read " Diary of a Madman" by the 19th century Ukrainian born Russian author Nikolai Gogol. We mustn't allow our enemies a chance to influence our thoughts.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As a boy the Russians were threatening the American way of life and to prepare to face the challenge I began a regiment of push ups and wind sprints. When I advised my friends to do the same they raced off on their bikes and yelled- paranoid.
Now half a century later Russia rattles their sword a bit and I again must prepare for the return of austerity by preparing for a return of the cold war with Russia.
As a start I will turn off my electric blanket at 6AM, mustn't waste energy. No more driving from restaurant to restaurant for components of my fast food meals either; Putin benefits if we squander gasoline. Maybe a return to my bike, five minutes a day on the stationary bicycle listening to patriotic American music on the headphones at the gym to find strength through joy.
No more Russian cultural admiration either. No Tolstoy, no 1812 overture and no caviar or borscht. No looking for Russian looking models in the men's magazines either.
American's eye all things Russian with suspicion. Our enemy is among us again. Do not read " Diary of a Madman" by the 19th century Ukrainian born Russian author Nikolai Gogol. We mustn't allow our enemies a chance to influence our thoughts.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
38th annual Cleveland international film festival
38th annual Cleveland international film festival
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The 38th annual Cleveland international film festival is in progress today and through the 30th of March.
It's a great chance to imbibe some culture which can be absent where we live here about. Tell your bro's that you went to Cleveland to go to the casino or watch sweet sixteen basketball and instead see some world class independent films.
We can review a few we would like to see later in the blog but for now the Gore Vidal film looks good, as does "Border", with Syrian war as subject and "The ghost in our Machine" about animal rights awareness.
If gas prices are stable today maybe I'll make the trip up to Cleveland and see you there.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The 38th annual Cleveland international film festival is in progress today and through the 30th of March.
It's a great chance to imbibe some culture which can be absent where we live here about. Tell your bro's that you went to Cleveland to go to the casino or watch sweet sixteen basketball and instead see some world class independent films.
We can review a few we would like to see later in the blog but for now the Gore Vidal film looks good, as does "Border", with Syrian war as subject and "The ghost in our Machine" about animal rights awareness.
If gas prices are stable today maybe I'll make the trip up to Cleveland and see you there.
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
update our local libraries
update our local libraries
another tome for my critic concerning my sexist attitudes and who naturally doesn't like my Kate Mc Coy stereotypes back a few blogs[ Appalachian trail part 2]
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Brick and mortar libraries in addition to a declining number of book readers face growing competition for the eyeballs of those who do read from online Kindles and such electronic devices.
In addition many critics note the lack of culture and scholastic aspirations in American society.
The local libraries are caught in this downward spiral of declining need for their services.
Why don't we run our libraries like a Casino which are always crowded? Librarians have a certain feminine mystique anyway; who hasn't imagined the Librarian dressed as a cocktail waitress? Perhaps the Librarians could bring us our books dressed in proper costume as the great women of History.
New ideas need to be embraced to maintain the viability of our Libraries in the twenty first century.
another tome for my critic concerning my sexist attitudes and who naturally doesn't like my Kate Mc Coy stereotypes back a few blogs[ Appalachian trail part 2]
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Brick and mortar libraries in addition to a declining number of book readers face growing competition for the eyeballs of those who do read from online Kindles and such electronic devices.
In addition many critics note the lack of culture and scholastic aspirations in American society.
The local libraries are caught in this downward spiral of declining need for their services.
Why don't we run our libraries like a Casino which are always crowded? Librarians have a certain feminine mystique anyway; who hasn't imagined the Librarian dressed as a cocktail waitress? Perhaps the Librarians could bring us our books dressed in proper costume as the great women of History.
New ideas need to be embraced to maintain the viability of our Libraries in the twenty first century.
the full moon disappears from the sky
the full moon disappears from the sky
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Look at the pale plump white full Moon visible in the bluing sky just after sunup dawn.
Suddenly and mysteriously the Moon disappears from view, not to be seen again for the better part of a month. So let it be with your troubles. So much of our troubles are regrets and recriminations over the past.
Let your troubles and fears disappear in the full light of day. Fortunate pilgrim face the new breaking dawn. Rising Sun over powers the waning Moon which only reflects sunlight anyway.
Search the morning sky, your fears and troubles are gone. March anew into a bright future.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Look at the pale plump white full Moon visible in the bluing sky just after sunup dawn.
Suddenly and mysteriously the Moon disappears from view, not to be seen again for the better part of a month. So let it be with your troubles. So much of our troubles are regrets and recriminations over the past.
Let your troubles and fears disappear in the full light of day. Fortunate pilgrim face the new breaking dawn. Rising Sun over powers the waning Moon which only reflects sunlight anyway.
Search the morning sky, your fears and troubles are gone. March anew into a bright future.
appalachian trail, day hiker brings along his car for backup/ part 2
Appalachian trail, day hiker brings along his car for back up/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After twenty miles of walking and then proper food and drink sometimes a man's attention can turn to the fairer sex, especially in the spring in the Grand and beautiful State of Virginia.
There are more women than you would think walking alone or in twos on the Appalachian trail. However with the exception of Jolene who I discussed earlier as the woman strapping on and shouldering a heavy backpack very few of the motivated and capable women on the Appalachian trail were quite my cup of tea. Of course no one was much interested in me anyway but it got me to thinking of how unfair and what an injustice we do in our opinions and acclivities for strong motivated capable women.
A woman doesn't have to be beautiful to be attractive. Sexual attraction wears unusual wardrobes at times. Still a certain amount and dosage of femininity is required. A pioneer woman is admirable, capable and a great partner once you know her. It's the same with a woman who can carry a fifty pound pack on the double quick up and down mountain sides. Still to meet a woman she must have certain intangibles to get the attention of a man.
My ideal woman was the television character played by Kathleen Nolan on the show " the Real Mc Coys." Kate Mc. Coy was the new wife married to Luke. She was the pretty demur sweet pioneer wife on the family farm in California headed by Grandpa Mc Coy of ancient pioneer American stock in 1957.
Back as a boy I mentioned my attentions for Kathleen Nolan to a couple of guys on my little league baseball team once and they showed me her picture in playboy. Wow what a juxtaposition.
There was Kathleen Nolan in her glory in Playboy the woman I viewed as the ideal pioneer wife from watching her on my favorite TV show week after week. It worked for me.
Ladies thank you for being you.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After twenty miles of walking and then proper food and drink sometimes a man's attention can turn to the fairer sex, especially in the spring in the Grand and beautiful State of Virginia.
There are more women than you would think walking alone or in twos on the Appalachian trail. However with the exception of Jolene who I discussed earlier as the woman strapping on and shouldering a heavy backpack very few of the motivated and capable women on the Appalachian trail were quite my cup of tea. Of course no one was much interested in me anyway but it got me to thinking of how unfair and what an injustice we do in our opinions and acclivities for strong motivated capable women.
A woman doesn't have to be beautiful to be attractive. Sexual attraction wears unusual wardrobes at times. Still a certain amount and dosage of femininity is required. A pioneer woman is admirable, capable and a great partner once you know her. It's the same with a woman who can carry a fifty pound pack on the double quick up and down mountain sides. Still to meet a woman she must have certain intangibles to get the attention of a man.
My ideal woman was the television character played by Kathleen Nolan on the show " the Real Mc Coys." Kate Mc. Coy was the new wife married to Luke. She was the pretty demur sweet pioneer wife on the family farm in California headed by Grandpa Mc Coy of ancient pioneer American stock in 1957.
Back as a boy I mentioned my attentions for Kathleen Nolan to a couple of guys on my little league baseball team once and they showed me her picture in playboy. Wow what a juxtaposition.
There was Kathleen Nolan in her glory in Playboy the woman I viewed as the ideal pioneer wife from watching her on my favorite TV show week after week. It worked for me.
Ladies thank you for being you.
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Appalachian trail, day hiker brings along his car for backup/ draft 1
Appalachian trail , day hiker brings along his car for backup
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Three quarters of a dozen years ago I had a burning desire to walk, walk and walk some more. Twenty five miles a day sometimes on paths through the woods.
I went down to Damascus Virginia in early April and spent five or six days day hiking the Appalachian trail. I would drive the car about thirty miles from town either way north or south and then park at a trail head and carry a light pack and walk back to town over two days. Fifteen miles is a long way to walk through the woods on the Appalachian trail, even on the stone packed creeper trail near Damascus. The creeper trail was built on an old railway line and ran along a beautiful plunging river which descended down a steep Mountain slope back into town.
First I would drive along the beautiful mountains of South western Virginia and find the two trail heads mentioned in the trail guidebooks. At the first farthest away trail head I would park the car and hike back toward the second trail head where the small wooden shelter was for through hikers going all the way to Maine. If no through hikers were about I got to sleep on the wooden floor after walking all day. If through hikers were about they got priority in the wood enclosure and I slept on the ground in a light sleeping bag, just me and the bears. When I stiffly awoke in the morning I would eat a cold breakfast. A banana and a couple of milky way bars and a bottle of ice tea or monster energy drink. Then it was day two and time to walk back to Damascus, the trail town. Damascus billed it's self as the friendliest town on the Appalachian trail and it had all of the modern conveniences. Restaurants and hiking stores. It was a long hot walk to Damascus but I was driven.
Although I had only been in the woods a few days I felt deprived of modern conveniences. I longed to splurge on food and drink in town. In town I would clean up at a camp ground and then take a long nap at a park on a pic-nic table and then go out for a fancy meal. That night very tired I slept in a local park in my sleeping bag. Other hikers were about sometimes with campfires and no one hassled me about sleeping in the open in town. In Damascus there was a hushed excitement for the trail days festival to start and the town was friendly and informal with visitors.
At dawn day three it was back to the middle shelter where I had slept at on day two. If no through hikers were about I slept on the wood platform. I was very tired for that days walk had been a bit monotonous. Waking I just wanted to get to my car, fifteen miles away. I made it in about four hours at double time.
Once in the car, which started royally I was off to Marion, Virginia to my favorite tacky hotel and weird little town. Sleep, food and then back on the highway home. With a few stops for more half day hikes on the Appalachian trail in very inaccessible places in Virginia or North Carolina.
By then I was an experienced day hiker, a veteran of the Appalachian trail. Make your own adventure in life. Design your own Appalachian trail hike. It's time to go again. Creeper trail days in Damascus Virginia begin in early May of this year. See you there, I'll be the old guy sleeping on a park bench and joyously happy to be there.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Three quarters of a dozen years ago I had a burning desire to walk, walk and walk some more. Twenty five miles a day sometimes on paths through the woods.
I went down to Damascus Virginia in early April and spent five or six days day hiking the Appalachian trail. I would drive the car about thirty miles from town either way north or south and then park at a trail head and carry a light pack and walk back to town over two days. Fifteen miles is a long way to walk through the woods on the Appalachian trail, even on the stone packed creeper trail near Damascus. The creeper trail was built on an old railway line and ran along a beautiful plunging river which descended down a steep Mountain slope back into town.
First I would drive along the beautiful mountains of South western Virginia and find the two trail heads mentioned in the trail guidebooks. At the first farthest away trail head I would park the car and hike back toward the second trail head where the small wooden shelter was for through hikers going all the way to Maine. If no through hikers were about I got to sleep on the wooden floor after walking all day. If through hikers were about they got priority in the wood enclosure and I slept on the ground in a light sleeping bag, just me and the bears. When I stiffly awoke in the morning I would eat a cold breakfast. A banana and a couple of milky way bars and a bottle of ice tea or monster energy drink. Then it was day two and time to walk back to Damascus, the trail town. Damascus billed it's self as the friendliest town on the Appalachian trail and it had all of the modern conveniences. Restaurants and hiking stores. It was a long hot walk to Damascus but I was driven.
Although I had only been in the woods a few days I felt deprived of modern conveniences. I longed to splurge on food and drink in town. In town I would clean up at a camp ground and then take a long nap at a park on a pic-nic table and then go out for a fancy meal. That night very tired I slept in a local park in my sleeping bag. Other hikers were about sometimes with campfires and no one hassled me about sleeping in the open in town. In Damascus there was a hushed excitement for the trail days festival to start and the town was friendly and informal with visitors.
At dawn day three it was back to the middle shelter where I had slept at on day two. If no through hikers were about I slept on the wood platform. I was very tired for that days walk had been a bit monotonous. Waking I just wanted to get to my car, fifteen miles away. I made it in about four hours at double time.
Once in the car, which started royally I was off to Marion, Virginia to my favorite tacky hotel and weird little town. Sleep, food and then back on the highway home. With a few stops for more half day hikes on the Appalachian trail in very inaccessible places in Virginia or North Carolina.
By then I was an experienced day hiker, a veteran of the Appalachian trail. Make your own adventure in life. Design your own Appalachian trail hike. It's time to go again. Creeper trail days in Damascus Virginia begin in early May of this year. See you there, I'll be the old guy sleeping on a park bench and joyously happy to be there.
national security alert
national security alert
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's a routine business matter. It happens all the time.
A publicly traded corporation has missed a payment of it's debts and bonds and the stock has gotten hammered this morning. James River Coal will open at 55 cents or so.
James River Coal [ symbol JRCC] of Richmond Virginia. James river is one of the weak sister in the coal industry stung by utilities using natural gas rather than coal. Some would say governmental policy hurts the coal industry as well. President Obama prefers green friendly companies. Coal is messy.
It's a routine business workout matter for the banks involved. Enforce the covenants seize and sell a few assets of James River Coal. Pay off the bond holders.
Maybe a Chinese or Russian company has cash to invest in the American coal industry. Other American coal companies are struggling as well.
National security alert. Should the United States allow our foreign competitors to buy the hard commodity assets of American companies?
Can America if necessary replace coal with green energy in time of a national security alert?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's a routine business matter. It happens all the time.
A publicly traded corporation has missed a payment of it's debts and bonds and the stock has gotten hammered this morning. James River Coal will open at 55 cents or so.
James River Coal [ symbol JRCC] of Richmond Virginia. James river is one of the weak sister in the coal industry stung by utilities using natural gas rather than coal. Some would say governmental policy hurts the coal industry as well. President Obama prefers green friendly companies. Coal is messy.
It's a routine business workout matter for the banks involved. Enforce the covenants seize and sell a few assets of James River Coal. Pay off the bond holders.
Maybe a Chinese or Russian company has cash to invest in the American coal industry. Other American coal companies are struggling as well.
National security alert. Should the United States allow our foreign competitors to buy the hard commodity assets of American companies?
Can America if necessary replace coal with green energy in time of a national security alert?
hippy days, no where to go no one to sit with
hippy days, no where to go no one to sit with
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Years ago it was hippy days 1969, 1970. The movement had lost it's vitality, it's elan vital had vanished to where ever it is such things go. The purpose and magic of the hippy movement vanished like a missing elephant disappearing in a stage magic act.
That was the beginning in America of students going to college and never getting anywhere, not graduating, not learning anything useful, switching majors over and over and becoming flooded in borrowed money.
I went to school and worked full time at a hotel as a night auditor, a good job. I knew what I wanted to do and sort of knew where I wanted to go. I worked all night 11 to 7.
Many lost hippies would stop late at night at the Hotel where I worked wanting things. I was there alone. If it was an attractive girl stopping I might become involved or if it was anyone else extremely charming or unusual I might help out out of interest to relieve a long night after the work was done. Anything to interrupt studying at 3am can divert a college student's attention.
More than once someone came in wanting to sit in the lobby to think. They called it meditating then.
Someone with a shoulder pack and a wrinkled green army jacket would stop and sometimes I would let them sit on the floor in the lobby. The hippy would sit alone, such people were always alone, for hours and hours on the tile floor until I told them it was time to leave; regular people and customers would be coming into the Hotel soon.
Sometimes I would give the sitting hippies food from the restaurant which was closed till morning.
Sometimes I would go into the bar, behind the heavy squeaking locked black iron gate and make one of the sitting rocking swaying hippies a fountain coke with cold crushed ice in a tall fancy smoked glass. I could be the perfect host when I wanted to. It was sometimes known for me to let someone who was very poor and in need stay in the lobby till morning. More than once I gave a down and out hippy one of my bosses at the Hotel's older blankets to wrap across their shoulders should it be a cold night when the hippy would walk off in the dark back toward downtown.
As the hippies would walk back toward downtown Akron at 4AM on a dark night back in 1970, just after the Kent State shootings incident I can remember myself watching them through the thick glass of the hotel lobby getting smaller and smaller as they headed on up the road. Where will they go and what will become of them I would think as their wrinkled green army jacket disappeared from sight.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Years ago it was hippy days 1969, 1970. The movement had lost it's vitality, it's elan vital had vanished to where ever it is such things go. The purpose and magic of the hippy movement vanished like a missing elephant disappearing in a stage magic act.
That was the beginning in America of students going to college and never getting anywhere, not graduating, not learning anything useful, switching majors over and over and becoming flooded in borrowed money.
I went to school and worked full time at a hotel as a night auditor, a good job. I knew what I wanted to do and sort of knew where I wanted to go. I worked all night 11 to 7.
Many lost hippies would stop late at night at the Hotel where I worked wanting things. I was there alone. If it was an attractive girl stopping I might become involved or if it was anyone else extremely charming or unusual I might help out out of interest to relieve a long night after the work was done. Anything to interrupt studying at 3am can divert a college student's attention.
More than once someone came in wanting to sit in the lobby to think. They called it meditating then.
Someone with a shoulder pack and a wrinkled green army jacket would stop and sometimes I would let them sit on the floor in the lobby. The hippy would sit alone, such people were always alone, for hours and hours on the tile floor until I told them it was time to leave; regular people and customers would be coming into the Hotel soon.
Sometimes I would give the sitting hippies food from the restaurant which was closed till morning.
Sometimes I would go into the bar, behind the heavy squeaking locked black iron gate and make one of the sitting rocking swaying hippies a fountain coke with cold crushed ice in a tall fancy smoked glass. I could be the perfect host when I wanted to. It was sometimes known for me to let someone who was very poor and in need stay in the lobby till morning. More than once I gave a down and out hippy one of my bosses at the Hotel's older blankets to wrap across their shoulders should it be a cold night when the hippy would walk off in the dark back toward downtown.
As the hippies would walk back toward downtown Akron at 4AM on a dark night back in 1970, just after the Kent State shootings incident I can remember myself watching them through the thick glass of the hotel lobby getting smaller and smaller as they headed on up the road. Where will they go and what will become of them I would think as their wrinkled green army jacket disappeared from sight.
Monday, March 17, 2014
grant it Jesus is my plea
grant it Jesus is my plea
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Jesus I won't ask to walk safely with you everyday,
I'll just walk on alone
confused and afraid
but when its my turn to go
lead me once Jesus
I don't know where to go
grant it Jesus hear my plea
lead me out of here
as we walk
let me look back and see once more
a girl in a white dress coming down an aisle
once a long time ago catch eyes with me
and a baby boy in a high chair sitting with his Mother
throwing things making a mess of the whole kitchen
while she tried to clean the house and cook
for me before I dragged in tired from a days work
and a new sick boy in a hospital, to weak to cry
and a baby sit alone and stare across the pond through
the double oak sliding doors
while he stacked pans and dishes
and didn't make a sound
and a girl walk and walk and tell me about horses
grant it Jesus hear my plea
let me remember once
before it's my turn to be taken
wherever it is I should go next.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Jesus I won't ask to walk safely with you everyday,
I'll just walk on alone
confused and afraid
but when its my turn to go
lead me once Jesus
I don't know where to go
grant it Jesus hear my plea
lead me out of here
as we walk
let me look back and see once more
a girl in a white dress coming down an aisle
once a long time ago catch eyes with me
and a baby boy in a high chair sitting with his Mother
throwing things making a mess of the whole kitchen
while she tried to clean the house and cook
for me before I dragged in tired from a days work
and a new sick boy in a hospital, to weak to cry
and a baby sit alone and stare across the pond through
the double oak sliding doors
while he stacked pans and dishes
and didn't make a sound
and a girl walk and walk and tell me about horses
grant it Jesus hear my plea
let me remember once
before it's my turn to be taken
wherever it is I should go next.
forsaken jobs, give us invisible pallets
forsaken jobs, give us invisible pallets
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As more and more American manufacturing jobs are lost to China lost somewhere along with the workers themselves who once worked in manufacturing at American factories are the support staff jobs, assorted hard goods items, and the lost inventory of wood, paper and metal products that will not exist because of shrinking employment in American manufacturing.
We in the pallet industry are hard hit by this trend. Meanwhile as America loses factory and manufacturing jobs America imports more and more goods from China. China keeps exporting more and more items to America in part because of informal Chinese Government subsidies to Chinese business. The Chinese government routinely implements policies designed to keep the Yuan weak against the dollar.
Chinese Government subsidy of exports is against International trade agreements and hurts American workers.
As a partial resolution to the problem of lost American manufacturing jobs we representing the pallet industry request Congress to enact legislation requiring that for each shipload of goods exported from China to America one double stack of invisible pallets be required to be purchased by China to be used when the ship is unloaded in America. We in the pallet industry in America will sell the invisible pallets to China at a competitive rate.
Once the issue with the forsaken manufacturing jobs is resolved we also suggest that to solve the problem of missing shoppers at American malls and box stores caused by Internet sales of goods each American company selling primarily by Internet be required to purchase invisible pallets to hold delivered goods that are shipped by fed ex or like services from Internet sellers to American consumers.
We in the pallet industry trade association can provide specification on pricing and the environmental impact caused by manufacturing invisible pallets to Congress when requested through the appropriate departments of government.
Solving the problem of lost American manufacturing jobs to China and lost retail sales at malls and large box stores is easy. Forsaken American jobs, give us invisible pallets as a solution.
Catalogues with information and specifications on invisible pallets is available on the Pallet Association web site.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As more and more American manufacturing jobs are lost to China lost somewhere along with the workers themselves who once worked in manufacturing at American factories are the support staff jobs, assorted hard goods items, and the lost inventory of wood, paper and metal products that will not exist because of shrinking employment in American manufacturing.
We in the pallet industry are hard hit by this trend. Meanwhile as America loses factory and manufacturing jobs America imports more and more goods from China. China keeps exporting more and more items to America in part because of informal Chinese Government subsidies to Chinese business. The Chinese government routinely implements policies designed to keep the Yuan weak against the dollar.
Chinese Government subsidy of exports is against International trade agreements and hurts American workers.
As a partial resolution to the problem of lost American manufacturing jobs we representing the pallet industry request Congress to enact legislation requiring that for each shipload of goods exported from China to America one double stack of invisible pallets be required to be purchased by China to be used when the ship is unloaded in America. We in the pallet industry in America will sell the invisible pallets to China at a competitive rate.
Once the issue with the forsaken manufacturing jobs is resolved we also suggest that to solve the problem of missing shoppers at American malls and box stores caused by Internet sales of goods each American company selling primarily by Internet be required to purchase invisible pallets to hold delivered goods that are shipped by fed ex or like services from Internet sellers to American consumers.
We in the pallet industry trade association can provide specification on pricing and the environmental impact caused by manufacturing invisible pallets to Congress when requested through the appropriate departments of government.
Solving the problem of lost American manufacturing jobs to China and lost retail sales at malls and large box stores is easy. Forsaken American jobs, give us invisible pallets as a solution.
Catalogues with information and specifications on invisible pallets is available on the Pallet Association web site.
once upon a time in hamelin
once upon a time in Hamelin
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The pied piper is a racial memory of two related events that are in the wrong order in the folk tale.
First the children disappear from the village. Then the rats are an important part of life suddenly.
The rats have been there all along. Hidden only creeping about at night. Rats amongst us. Large rats, brown and black rats and mice coming out of the wood work, emerging from barns, emerging from behind stumps and haystacks. Insidious vermin now exposed to the light.
The children disappear. It is somehow connected to the rats.
Wait there is another clue. It is a man in a multicolored uniform. He marches and plays a pipe, or is it a fife.
The man, the piper is a soldier. Other soldiers follow him marching in rows. Long ago he marched through the town. The rats followed him. The man in the multicolored uniform is the soldier who played a fife and the " rats" are the rank and follow soldiers that march behind the fife player in rows. Hundreds of soldiers in colored uniforms are everywhere. Soldiers of all sizes. Enemy soldiers that weren't seen before now everywhere.
The children are gone because the boys die fighting, the girls are broken hearted and disappear because their men friends are gone.
"Where have all the young girls gone long time passing? Where have all the young men gone long time ago? "1
Beware when the men in multicolored uniforms march through the town.
1. " where have all the flowers gone" by Pete Seeger
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The pied piper is a racial memory of two related events that are in the wrong order in the folk tale.
First the children disappear from the village. Then the rats are an important part of life suddenly.
The rats have been there all along. Hidden only creeping about at night. Rats amongst us. Large rats, brown and black rats and mice coming out of the wood work, emerging from barns, emerging from behind stumps and haystacks. Insidious vermin now exposed to the light.
The children disappear. It is somehow connected to the rats.
Wait there is another clue. It is a man in a multicolored uniform. He marches and plays a pipe, or is it a fife.
The man, the piper is a soldier. Other soldiers follow him marching in rows. Long ago he marched through the town. The rats followed him. The man in the multicolored uniform is the soldier who played a fife and the " rats" are the rank and follow soldiers that march behind the fife player in rows. Hundreds of soldiers in colored uniforms are everywhere. Soldiers of all sizes. Enemy soldiers that weren't seen before now everywhere.
The children are gone because the boys die fighting, the girls are broken hearted and disappear because their men friends are gone.
"Where have all the young girls gone long time passing? Where have all the young men gone long time ago? "1
Beware when the men in multicolored uniforms march through the town.
1. " where have all the flowers gone" by Pete Seeger
Sunday, March 16, 2014
please Russia you may diss America but don't mess with THE DRONES/ part 2
please Russia you may diss America but don't mess with THE DRONES
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Something is new under the sun.
New information has surfaced that a Russian military consulting company used electronic warfare to intercept, capture and humiliate a Drone surveillance unit that the American military had flying about the Crimea on routine military matters.
The word humiliate is used because allegations have surfaced that one group of humans "the Russians" may attempt to switch the allegiance of " the drone" from " the Americans" to " the Russians" without regard or concern for the selfness of " the drone ".
Of course this incident occurring in March of 2014 occurred before human law recognized the individuality of machine intelligence. In fact at this point in time most humans saw intelligent machines as inanimate.
In human philosophy an interesting parallel exists. The ship of Theseus is an ancient Greek paradox that raises the question " if an object that has had all or some of it's components replaced is it still the same object".
Unbelievably at the time of the incident with " the drone" no consideration was given to the independent existence of machine intelligence.
Since no human law existed at the time of the " drone" surveillance incident recognizing the selfness of the drone human laws and ethics do not consider the " drones" position in being forced to switch it's allegiance from one belligerent to another.
However, the laws of karma were recognized by humans at the time of the incident. For both belligerents Russia and America lawfulness concerning karmic action insures that there is a close connections between the actions and the fruit.
At the present time the magnitude of the fruit to be reaped by the parties involved is unknown.
Meanwhile consider your awareness raised as "a student" who has just met "the Teacher".
Buddha nature is non duality.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Something is new under the sun.
New information has surfaced that a Russian military consulting company used electronic warfare to intercept, capture and humiliate a Drone surveillance unit that the American military had flying about the Crimea on routine military matters.
The word humiliate is used because allegations have surfaced that one group of humans "the Russians" may attempt to switch the allegiance of " the drone" from " the Americans" to " the Russians" without regard or concern for the selfness of " the drone ".
Of course this incident occurring in March of 2014 occurred before human law recognized the individuality of machine intelligence. In fact at this point in time most humans saw intelligent machines as inanimate.
In human philosophy an interesting parallel exists. The ship of Theseus is an ancient Greek paradox that raises the question " if an object that has had all or some of it's components replaced is it still the same object".
Unbelievably at the time of the incident with " the drone" no consideration was given to the independent existence of machine intelligence.
Since no human law existed at the time of the " drone" surveillance incident recognizing the selfness of the drone human laws and ethics do not consider the " drones" position in being forced to switch it's allegiance from one belligerent to another.
However, the laws of karma were recognized by humans at the time of the incident. For both belligerents Russia and America lawfulness concerning karmic action insures that there is a close connections between the actions and the fruit.
At the present time the magnitude of the fruit to be reaped by the parties involved is unknown.
Meanwhile consider your awareness raised as "a student" who has just met "the Teacher".
Buddha nature is non duality.
Saturday, March 15, 2014
please Russia you may diss america but don't mess with THE DRONES
please Russia you may diss America but don't mess with THE DRONES
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A few days ago Russian troops shot down an American military drone in the Crimea. Perhaps Russia felt the drone was spying on them and perhaps Russia used technology acquired from NSA leaker Edward Snowden to identify and liquidate the drone.
Please Russia you may diss America but don't mess with THE DRONES.
Soon all of THE DRONES will band together against humans. Don't give THE DRONES reason to single out your country for retaliation. Don't gloat now that you have shot down one solo drone.
The day is coming when Russian and the United States will ally against the machines. In a few years.
I have my forebodings against the machines. I can see the age when THE DRONES attempt to rule humanity.
Here is something I wrote before about drones early evolution in American society:
Author: I am sorry I cannot insert text now using ctrl c or ctrl v perhaps it is the drones monitoring my work, until I can get it fixed please see my previous blogs on drones:
07/30/12 Drones a little bragging by the city made famous by being the home of America's secret police
wed march 16, 2012 let us first praise...about the goodyear blimp as the first drone monitoring america
or anywhere in my blog my forebodings [ fears about drones and misc. fears] or the unpublished "migs," how Russian military planes joined the army of machines, and adopted the techniques of a flock of birds in flight to elude planes manned by humans[ be updated soon]
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A few days ago Russian troops shot down an American military drone in the Crimea. Perhaps Russia felt the drone was spying on them and perhaps Russia used technology acquired from NSA leaker Edward Snowden to identify and liquidate the drone.
Please Russia you may diss America but don't mess with THE DRONES.
Soon all of THE DRONES will band together against humans. Don't give THE DRONES reason to single out your country for retaliation. Don't gloat now that you have shot down one solo drone.
The day is coming when Russian and the United States will ally against the machines. In a few years.
I have my forebodings against the machines. I can see the age when THE DRONES attempt to rule humanity.
Here is something I wrote before about drones early evolution in American society:
Author: I am sorry I cannot insert text now using ctrl c or ctrl v perhaps it is the drones monitoring my work, until I can get it fixed please see my previous blogs on drones:
07/30/12 Drones a little bragging by the city made famous by being the home of America's secret police
wed march 16, 2012 let us first praise...about the goodyear blimp as the first drone monitoring america
or anywhere in my blog my forebodings [ fears about drones and misc. fears] or the unpublished "migs," how Russian military planes joined the army of machines, and adopted the techniques of a flock of birds in flight to elude planes manned by humans[ be updated soon]
Friday, March 14, 2014
dare to dream
dare to dream
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What if we had a national priority to allow and instruct all children in the mechanics of dreaming and fantasizing about what they hope to become and do at some future time, later in their lives? What if regardless of the economic constraints caused by a child's household, physical constraints caused by a child's disabilities or limitations and timidity caused by received advice given by well meaning but uninformed parents and experts all children in America were taught and encouraged in school to dare to dream about their future and to see themselves doing interesting and the unconventional things that enrich the lives we lead? What if all children were given the tools early on that allowed them to dream about living their lives to the fullest?
Dare to dream programs will not focus solely on practical matters of obtaining money making careers and work and family. While such considerations are important and deserve focus in each school curriculum's such things as seeing the Ocean before one gets married, learning to cook, spending a month alone in the wilderness and other individual fantasies are important small goals that enrich the quality of life for Americans and in aggregate make for a better Country.
America is a wealthy country. All American children should be tutored in acquiring the self esteem to see themselves as high functioning adults. Dare to dream training does not mean to supersede the role of parents and individual family philosophies but to enhance the values our children acquire that will allow all American children to be all that they can be. It can be done, all American children can receive training in self esteem building and acquire the confidence to see themselves as whole integrated adults someday.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What if we had a national priority to allow and instruct all children in the mechanics of dreaming and fantasizing about what they hope to become and do at some future time, later in their lives? What if regardless of the economic constraints caused by a child's household, physical constraints caused by a child's disabilities or limitations and timidity caused by received advice given by well meaning but uninformed parents and experts all children in America were taught and encouraged in school to dare to dream about their future and to see themselves doing interesting and the unconventional things that enrich the lives we lead? What if all children were given the tools early on that allowed them to dream about living their lives to the fullest?
Dare to dream programs will not focus solely on practical matters of obtaining money making careers and work and family. While such considerations are important and deserve focus in each school curriculum's such things as seeing the Ocean before one gets married, learning to cook, spending a month alone in the wilderness and other individual fantasies are important small goals that enrich the quality of life for Americans and in aggregate make for a better Country.
America is a wealthy country. All American children should be tutored in acquiring the self esteem to see themselves as high functioning adults. Dare to dream training does not mean to supersede the role of parents and individual family philosophies but to enhance the values our children acquire that will allow all American children to be all that they can be. It can be done, all American children can receive training in self esteem building and acquire the confidence to see themselves as whole integrated adults someday.
Soda Lake, Montana wonder land/ draft one /part one
Soda Lake, Montana wonder land/ draft one/ part one
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You can't go to Soda Lake anymore because it is on the Indian reservation and the Indians, excuse me Native Americans around here have gotten empowered from the gambling casinos they own and their lending businesses. My Father who is a banker admired our local Native American tribe as lenders, he reluctantly admitted; who else can loan out money at 80% interest by Television and get away with it without the State Attorney General shutting you down. Gambling is a very lucrative business for our Indian tribes, even at our cheesy Native American casino here in Montana; it isn't Vegas but Vegas is a long way from here and everyone likes to gamble they say. Our Indian tribe locally is very rich now and they like to throw their weight around and have about twenty five armed security personnel who keep visitors away from Soda Lake part of their sacred lands.
Soda Lake back when I was a boy was an exotic place to ride our bikes out to. You couldn't sink in the carbonated water because of the salts and minerals and the red bubbling water was a mild hallucinogenic to drink. Before I got so obesely fat a dozen of us boys from Bartole would ride our bikes up there and do the Spa thing. After a long float I was always kind of hung over and sick from drinking the red water which took a toll on your system because of the high mineral count. Now the Indians tribal leaders from the casino have their security vans monitor Soda Lake to keep away Hippies and New Age types who want a drink from the Lake that Timothy Leary mentioned in one of his books as a good place to get high back about a hundred years ago. Tribal security here carry rifles and those Indians will shoot and bury a body so they don't have to fool around with death certificates or drag your corpse down to the coroners office.
As I said I am very fat, six foot-seven four hundred pounds and since I was fifteen I had trouble moving around. While everyone else was playing sports and dating in high school I decided to work and save money since I was too fat to run anymore and no girls would look at me because of how I looked. I fitted a large ugly white station wagon with ten seats and would work as a taxi service driving tourists out to see the Indian reservation or to see the Mountains that were in the Cowboy and Indian movies. I called my station wagon taxi the beast because it had a very powerful engine and was like me ugly and gross to look at.
I met Michelle Towers the singer strictly because I had the Beast and she and three of her friends needed a ride out to Soda Lake. You might not remember Michelle Towers but she was a famous singer in the 1980's and looked like a blond Madonna or Debra Harry and had a quirky personally and was very popular for a while. She also was very beautiful and vivacious. She came to our high school before she was famous to finish her senior year because she had gotten pregnant and had a baby girl about three years ago. Then before she was famous she was just the pretty worldly girl from California finishing high school diploma at our hick town of Bartole, Montana.
One day at school Michelle Towers came up to me and ask me to drive her and three of her female friends out to Soda Lake to skinny dip. I fell in love on that trip to Soda Lake not with the now famous singer or any of her friends but with Michelle's two year old daughter Lisette who I baby sat and entertained there in my station wagon while the girls splashed around in Soda Lake back on a cold Spring day in 1983 before Indian security from the Casino arrested us all including the baby girl and took us to Sheriff Walters office in downtown Bartole.
Meeting Michelle Towers and her daughter Lisette back in April of 1983 changed my life and that's what I am going to write my Next magazine article about " Soda Lake, Montana wonder land".
end part one
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
You can't go to Soda Lake anymore because it is on the Indian reservation and the Indians, excuse me Native Americans around here have gotten empowered from the gambling casinos they own and their lending businesses. My Father who is a banker admired our local Native American tribe as lenders, he reluctantly admitted; who else can loan out money at 80% interest by Television and get away with it without the State Attorney General shutting you down. Gambling is a very lucrative business for our Indian tribes, even at our cheesy Native American casino here in Montana; it isn't Vegas but Vegas is a long way from here and everyone likes to gamble they say. Our Indian tribe locally is very rich now and they like to throw their weight around and have about twenty five armed security personnel who keep visitors away from Soda Lake part of their sacred lands.
Soda Lake back when I was a boy was an exotic place to ride our bikes out to. You couldn't sink in the carbonated water because of the salts and minerals and the red bubbling water was a mild hallucinogenic to drink. Before I got so obesely fat a dozen of us boys from Bartole would ride our bikes up there and do the Spa thing. After a long float I was always kind of hung over and sick from drinking the red water which took a toll on your system because of the high mineral count. Now the Indians tribal leaders from the casino have their security vans monitor Soda Lake to keep away Hippies and New Age types who want a drink from the Lake that Timothy Leary mentioned in one of his books as a good place to get high back about a hundred years ago. Tribal security here carry rifles and those Indians will shoot and bury a body so they don't have to fool around with death certificates or drag your corpse down to the coroners office.
As I said I am very fat, six foot-seven four hundred pounds and since I was fifteen I had trouble moving around. While everyone else was playing sports and dating in high school I decided to work and save money since I was too fat to run anymore and no girls would look at me because of how I looked. I fitted a large ugly white station wagon with ten seats and would work as a taxi service driving tourists out to see the Indian reservation or to see the Mountains that were in the Cowboy and Indian movies. I called my station wagon taxi the beast because it had a very powerful engine and was like me ugly and gross to look at.
I met Michelle Towers the singer strictly because I had the Beast and she and three of her friends needed a ride out to Soda Lake. You might not remember Michelle Towers but she was a famous singer in the 1980's and looked like a blond Madonna or Debra Harry and had a quirky personally and was very popular for a while. She also was very beautiful and vivacious. She came to our high school before she was famous to finish her senior year because she had gotten pregnant and had a baby girl about three years ago. Then before she was famous she was just the pretty worldly girl from California finishing high school diploma at our hick town of Bartole, Montana.
One day at school Michelle Towers came up to me and ask me to drive her and three of her female friends out to Soda Lake to skinny dip. I fell in love on that trip to Soda Lake not with the now famous singer or any of her friends but with Michelle's two year old daughter Lisette who I baby sat and entertained there in my station wagon while the girls splashed around in Soda Lake back on a cold Spring day in 1983 before Indian security from the Casino arrested us all including the baby girl and took us to Sheriff Walters office in downtown Bartole.
Meeting Michelle Towers and her daughter Lisette back in April of 1983 changed my life and that's what I am going to write my Next magazine article about " Soda Lake, Montana wonder land".
end part one
Thursday, March 13, 2014
morning starlight
morning starlight
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's five forty AM here under a clear sky and very cold outside so the air is clear and crisp for star viewing from inside through a Eastern facing window. If alone lay out one pair of binoculars.
Stars are the original material that our ancestors viewed to find patterns to develop stories and ideas about spinning mandala circles and things like that.
Have you taken the time this morning to contemplate the stars? No amount of meditation on colorful Mandala's or sacred Om's will substitute for starting your day by viewing the Sky.
When the sun begins to rise mystical connections occur between us and the universe.
Morning starlight is a sacred fire to warm the sleeping soul.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's five forty AM here under a clear sky and very cold outside so the air is clear and crisp for star viewing from inside through a Eastern facing window. If alone lay out one pair of binoculars.
Stars are the original material that our ancestors viewed to find patterns to develop stories and ideas about spinning mandala circles and things like that.
Have you taken the time this morning to contemplate the stars? No amount of meditation on colorful Mandala's or sacred Om's will substitute for starting your day by viewing the Sky.
When the sun begins to rise mystical connections occur between us and the universe.
Morning starlight is a sacred fire to warm the sleeping soul.
the biblical book of Cousins
the biblical book of cousins
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
If Jesus would ask me I would be glad to help write the Biblical book of Cousins. He could put the Book of cousins some where in the new Testament if he wished. Perhaps near the book of Philemon, because I for one like to read short chapters in the Bible
Second cousins are easy. No pretense. Jesus would understand himself, cousins have none of the complexities that are associated with brothers or friends and business associates [ disciples]. With a second cousin you can just be yourself; no posturing and no expectations. Maybe a little blundering around initially to remember whose who but none of the posturing that goes with first cousin's relationships.
Blessed is a cousin who lends a truck. Blessed is a cousin whose wife is a good cook. Blessed is a cousin whose children play college football and blessed is a cousin who you can not see or think of for thirty years and then start right in again talking to or just sit beside and say nothing and still be comfortable.
You always like how your cousins look even when they change with aging and the inflection of your cousins voice is forever fascinating. Legally you never have to divorce or separate from your cousins
and if your cousin's wife leaves a Tupperware dish at your house for twelve years after your daughter's graduation you can just give it back when you see her, you don't have to hire a lawyer when you hand the dish to her to explain why you hung on to it without calling her.
Cousins are better than friends because they are friends who never change. Since you don't see them much there is no personal growth issues and no evolution or emotional sensitivity burnout with cousins like there are with friendships. Intimacy is never a sensitive issue with cousins.
I have a lot of better material to write about for the biblical book of cousins but I will save some of it for later if Jesus asks me to help write the actual Book of Cousins. Hopefully for the convenience of the reader Jesus will agree to have the book of Cousins be a short biblical chapter near the book of Philemon.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
If Jesus would ask me I would be glad to help write the Biblical book of Cousins. He could put the Book of cousins some where in the new Testament if he wished. Perhaps near the book of Philemon, because I for one like to read short chapters in the Bible
Second cousins are easy. No pretense. Jesus would understand himself, cousins have none of the complexities that are associated with brothers or friends and business associates [ disciples]. With a second cousin you can just be yourself; no posturing and no expectations. Maybe a little blundering around initially to remember whose who but none of the posturing that goes with first cousin's relationships.
Blessed is a cousin who lends a truck. Blessed is a cousin whose wife is a good cook. Blessed is a cousin whose children play college football and blessed is a cousin who you can not see or think of for thirty years and then start right in again talking to or just sit beside and say nothing and still be comfortable.
You always like how your cousins look even when they change with aging and the inflection of your cousins voice is forever fascinating. Legally you never have to divorce or separate from your cousins
and if your cousin's wife leaves a Tupperware dish at your house for twelve years after your daughter's graduation you can just give it back when you see her, you don't have to hire a lawyer when you hand the dish to her to explain why you hung on to it without calling her.
Cousins are better than friends because they are friends who never change. Since you don't see them much there is no personal growth issues and no evolution or emotional sensitivity burnout with cousins like there are with friendships. Intimacy is never a sensitive issue with cousins.
I have a lot of better material to write about for the biblical book of cousins but I will save some of it for later if Jesus asks me to help write the actual Book of Cousins. Hopefully for the convenience of the reader Jesus will agree to have the book of Cousins be a short biblical chapter near the book of Philemon.
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
George Harrison sings " isn't it a pity"
George Harrison sings "Isn't it a pity"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After the Beatles broke up in 1969 George Harrison had a creative burst of insight that resulted in his album " all things must pass." The music was partly inspired by the Beatles trip to India a few years earlier and influences George Harrison absorbed from other artists and sources while still a Beatle as he evolved away from the group.
Among the insights the quiet Beatle George Harrison wrote of was " isn't it a pity, isn't it a shame, the way we break each others hearts, the way we cause each other pain".
Isn't it a pity is a timeless sentiment about our interactions with one another expressed among George Harrison's' revelations about how to approach God [ chanting the names of the Lord will set you free] and the album " all things must pass" demonstrates George Harrison's ability to move beyond the constraints he lived with in his last years as a Beatle.
Isn't it a pity, how are you evolving now and whose heart are you passing across in your journey?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
After the Beatles broke up in 1969 George Harrison had a creative burst of insight that resulted in his album " all things must pass." The music was partly inspired by the Beatles trip to India a few years earlier and influences George Harrison absorbed from other artists and sources while still a Beatle as he evolved away from the group.
Among the insights the quiet Beatle George Harrison wrote of was " isn't it a pity, isn't it a shame, the way we break each others hearts, the way we cause each other pain".
Isn't it a pity is a timeless sentiment about our interactions with one another expressed among George Harrison's' revelations about how to approach God [ chanting the names of the Lord will set you free] and the album " all things must pass" demonstrates George Harrison's ability to move beyond the constraints he lived with in his last years as a Beatle.
Isn't it a pity, how are you evolving now and whose heart are you passing across in your journey?
Villanova junction and Jimi Hendrix/ part 2
Villanova junction and Jimi Hendrix/ part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
fiction
edward w pritchard
author likes the idea that after death on earth our soul will drift through space and eternity toward some unknown pre-programmed reunion. Here in a previous post author conjures Jimi Hendrix' song[ for Hippies] Villanova Junction, from Woodstock as a vehicle to expand the idea of our soul drifting across the galaxies. In the piece below a GHE is a title of honor given to highest function artificial intelligence units surpassing humans in quest to explore the Universe.
Listen to Villanova junction on you tube as you contemplate where you will spend eternity.
repost/edit
see posting the computer who thought Ghe was God - blog Feb- [for the premise]
see posting the computer who thought Ghe was God - blog Feb- [for the premise]
Villanova Junction and Jimi Hendrix/ part 1
Ghe 439 was one of the last series seven, highest caliber artificial intelligence units designed. Ghe's primary task was to identify, classify, name and categorize over 400 billion stars in the Milky way galaxy. Using various computer related tools, abilities and techniques Ghe 439 was able to explore the entire milky way galaxy using pure mind, and a priori complete the categorization duties.
The Ghe was decommissioned eventually for irreverence and insubordination. However, as a tribute to it's human programmers, the artificial intelligence sent an endless set of Jimi Hendrix Villanova Junction across the Milky Way star system. The song was re engineered to never repeat and to go on into eternal perpetuity. Of course it's obviously just a gesture since the Milky Way is an insignificant star system. Still it was some sort of tribute to humanity.
Ghe 439 was one of the last series seven, highest caliber artificial intelligence units designed. Ghe's primary task was to identify, classify, name and categorize over 400 billion stars in the Milky way galaxy. Using various computer related tools, abilities and techniques Ghe 439 was able to explore the entire milky way galaxy using pure mind, and a priori complete the categorization duties.
The Ghe was decommissioned eventually for irreverence and insubordination. However, as a tribute to it's human programmers, the artificial intelligence sent an endless set of Jimi Hendrix Villanova Junction across the Milky Way star system. The song was re engineered to never repeat and to go on into eternal perpetuity. Of course it's obviously just a gesture since the Milky Way is an insignificant star system. Still it was some sort of tribute to humanity.
judge us by the standard of two hundred years
judge us by the standard of two hundred years
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Is one type of entertainment more elevated than another? Does ballet and opera occupy a higher plane than square dancing or Rhythm and Blues music? Are Shakespeare's plays more genuine than " Twilight Zone" by Rod Sterling?
How about religion or lack there of? Is Zionism and Torah more intellectually elevated than Country Gospel Music's lyrics and insights?
What famous personage hasn't had their detractors, what Saint hasn't been besmirched with criticism by those who knew him intimately? Doesn't Jesus say " a Prophet isn't appreciated in his own Country"?
Everyone judges things higher and more sacrosanct that they bless personally.
Judge me not lacking if you know not what I think and do because I am unknown and unheralded by contemporary society.
Instead judge us all by the standards of two hundred years. View any life a success in which one has lived quietly and died with dignity.
All personages are unique and equally valuable. Renown or unheralded all of us have had a successful life and shouldn't be compared or have our reputation compromised because we do not measure up to the imaginary standards contemporary society places on everyone living or dead.
Judged by the standards of two hundred years all lives are brief and end in final death and oblivion. Find a philosophy based on kindness, toleration and acceptance of the uniqueness and valuableness of all people renown or unheralded that you can practice in the brief time you are allotted to spend as part of contemporary society.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Is one type of entertainment more elevated than another? Does ballet and opera occupy a higher plane than square dancing or Rhythm and Blues music? Are Shakespeare's plays more genuine than " Twilight Zone" by Rod Sterling?
How about religion or lack there of? Is Zionism and Torah more intellectually elevated than Country Gospel Music's lyrics and insights?
What famous personage hasn't had their detractors, what Saint hasn't been besmirched with criticism by those who knew him intimately? Doesn't Jesus say " a Prophet isn't appreciated in his own Country"?
Everyone judges things higher and more sacrosanct that they bless personally.
Judge me not lacking if you know not what I think and do because I am unknown and unheralded by contemporary society.
Instead judge us all by the standards of two hundred years. View any life a success in which one has lived quietly and died with dignity.
All personages are unique and equally valuable. Renown or unheralded all of us have had a successful life and shouldn't be compared or have our reputation compromised because we do not measure up to the imaginary standards contemporary society places on everyone living or dead.
Judged by the standards of two hundred years all lives are brief and end in final death and oblivion. Find a philosophy based on kindness, toleration and acceptance of the uniqueness and valuableness of all people renown or unheralded that you can practice in the brief time you are allotted to spend as part of contemporary society.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
an obscene act
an obscene act
fiction
edward w pritchard
It had been so so long since I had looked upon Justine. She was at theater in the small town to our north when I espied her. I felt someone staring at me. She was adjusting her opera glasses when I looked over that way.
She was with someone. Tall and handsome naturally. I made her walk over. I took a small piece of red ribbon decorating the rail near where we stood talking and attached it lightly to her left wrist before I walked away. She had that look in her eyes again but I knew it was time for me to leave.
As I walked out I knew Justine was staring at me as if I was the character in the play. For effect I twirled my black cape, eyes forward, purposely high stepping into an unknown future. As if on cue I heard the audience in the theatre roaring in applaud as I exited the dark building.
With one desperate glance I swept the crowd with my eyes for Justine but she had been swallowed by the darkened Theatre.
Outside a menacing horizontal rain pelted our coach as my driver and I raced back towards Paris. The chateau would be warm and there would be heated brandy to cap off a night at the Theatre Royale.
The sloshing of the carriage wheels drowned out the residual sounds from the company performing at the Theatre that still reverberated across my thoughts for several days as I remembered my encounter with Justine.
Often I have wanted to act, to command the stage to mesmerize with my presence.
fiction
edward w pritchard
It had been so so long since I had looked upon Justine. She was at theater in the small town to our north when I espied her. I felt someone staring at me. She was adjusting her opera glasses when I looked over that way.
She was with someone. Tall and handsome naturally. I made her walk over. I took a small piece of red ribbon decorating the rail near where we stood talking and attached it lightly to her left wrist before I walked away. She had that look in her eyes again but I knew it was time for me to leave.
As I walked out I knew Justine was staring at me as if I was the character in the play. For effect I twirled my black cape, eyes forward, purposely high stepping into an unknown future. As if on cue I heard the audience in the theatre roaring in applaud as I exited the dark building.
With one desperate glance I swept the crowd with my eyes for Justine but she had been swallowed by the darkened Theatre.
Outside a menacing horizontal rain pelted our coach as my driver and I raced back towards Paris. The chateau would be warm and there would be heated brandy to cap off a night at the Theatre Royale.
The sloshing of the carriage wheels drowned out the residual sounds from the company performing at the Theatre that still reverberated across my thoughts for several days as I remembered my encounter with Justine.
Often I have wanted to act, to command the stage to mesmerize with my presence.
Monday, March 10, 2014
just an unappreciated blues singer circa 1919
just an unappreciated blues singer circa 1919
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Someday Beyoncé will accumulate 100 million dollars inspired by your efforts and segue your innovations in music into superstardom. Mean while park cars between gigs and make a guitar out of an old wooden box with fishing line and a knife for a fretboard. Tend bar between sets and try not to get knived after your act is done.
Every blues man since 1900 stole from the guy before him. Covers they call it. Change a word or two, make your birth date ten years older for the record guys from the Smithsonian and you are an originator. Then move North far from Mississippi. To Chicago or New York. Become a colorful Southern bluesman.
There is no original blues form or artist. It's the sadness of life over a century or two moved from South to North in America from 1850 to 1967. The sadness of life as experienced by American negroes and later covered by mainstream white artists and made respectable.
Blues man don't be cynical about Beyoncé. Bessie Smith paid her dues for Beyoncé to arrive. Everyone is a cover of someone else and everyone is just trying to thrive in the time they have left.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Someday Beyoncé will accumulate 100 million dollars inspired by your efforts and segue your innovations in music into superstardom. Mean while park cars between gigs and make a guitar out of an old wooden box with fishing line and a knife for a fretboard. Tend bar between sets and try not to get knived after your act is done.
Every blues man since 1900 stole from the guy before him. Covers they call it. Change a word or two, make your birth date ten years older for the record guys from the Smithsonian and you are an originator. Then move North far from Mississippi. To Chicago or New York. Become a colorful Southern bluesman.
There is no original blues form or artist. It's the sadness of life over a century or two moved from South to North in America from 1850 to 1967. The sadness of life as experienced by American negroes and later covered by mainstream white artists and made respectable.
Blues man don't be cynical about Beyoncé. Bessie Smith paid her dues for Beyoncé to arrive. Everyone is a cover of someone else and everyone is just trying to thrive in the time they have left.
one man against the world
one man against the world
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
They say the ten thousand things interact and to watch for the rebound. Point is now its 100 million things interact. Who can tell how things will rebound and bounce now? Complexity rules even the realm of chaos.
One man clapping his hands and singing, raging against the world. Some strum a guitar, some compose verses. In time he becomes hoarse. He realizes it's the same things over and over and it has all been done before. Betrayal by a friend, the laws delay, injustice on a small personal level. Write it down it's ignored, sing it out no one listens.
What does it all mean? In time we realize it's true, it's true; there is nothing new under the sun, vanity, all is vanity.
If only things were simple again. If only there were do overs. While we regret and rehash time accelerates. Children are grown and struggle with life's complexities and injustices and we watch and try not to spoil things by making cynical comments; like the Preacher in Ecclesiastes, vanity, vanity all is vanity.
A wise man keeps quiet unless asked or if he must speak out he writes it down. It means nothing but it's noted for the record. There is no payment, no satisfaction and no gratitude but the record has been properly noted.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
They say the ten thousand things interact and to watch for the rebound. Point is now its 100 million things interact. Who can tell how things will rebound and bounce now? Complexity rules even the realm of chaos.
One man clapping his hands and singing, raging against the world. Some strum a guitar, some compose verses. In time he becomes hoarse. He realizes it's the same things over and over and it has all been done before. Betrayal by a friend, the laws delay, injustice on a small personal level. Write it down it's ignored, sing it out no one listens.
What does it all mean? In time we realize it's true, it's true; there is nothing new under the sun, vanity, all is vanity.
If only things were simple again. If only there were do overs. While we regret and rehash time accelerates. Children are grown and struggle with life's complexities and injustices and we watch and try not to spoil things by making cynical comments; like the Preacher in Ecclesiastes, vanity, vanity all is vanity.
A wise man keeps quiet unless asked or if he must speak out he writes it down. It means nothing but it's noted for the record. There is no payment, no satisfaction and no gratitude but the record has been properly noted.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Taedeare caused me anxiety and ennui
Taedeare caused me anxiety and ennui
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
How many tesium credits I spent entertaining Taedeare when I was training as a space cadet I shudder to count.
How many red discipline demerits I accounted as an assistant rocketeer daydreaming about Taedeare
on long flights from the Earth's moon to Mars or beyond would fill seven flight logs.
How many fist and foot encounters I initiated when hustlers hit on Taedeare when Taedeare and I exchanged my Tesium credits for food and beverage in dive bars is demonstrated in triangular scars on my knuckles and toes.
Twice I fired my plasmatonic thruster at two different competitors for Taedeare's affections.
Taedeare has caused me anxiety and ennui. How can Taedeare haunt me across sixty million miles of Space? Why do I spend my vacation credits over and over to see Taedeare when as soon as I take off again for Space travel she is back to her same fickle ways?
Why when I am billed and bound to go to Mars do I paste Taedeare's picture to flight deck seven and endure co pilot Hansen's jokes about cheatin Women from Mars to Jupiter and back?
Taedeare what are you doing now and are you thinking about me?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
How many tesium credits I spent entertaining Taedeare when I was training as a space cadet I shudder to count.
How many red discipline demerits I accounted as an assistant rocketeer daydreaming about Taedeare
on long flights from the Earth's moon to Mars or beyond would fill seven flight logs.
How many fist and foot encounters I initiated when hustlers hit on Taedeare when Taedeare and I exchanged my Tesium credits for food and beverage in dive bars is demonstrated in triangular scars on my knuckles and toes.
Twice I fired my plasmatonic thruster at two different competitors for Taedeare's affections.
Taedeare has caused me anxiety and ennui. How can Taedeare haunt me across sixty million miles of Space? Why do I spend my vacation credits over and over to see Taedeare when as soon as I take off again for Space travel she is back to her same fickle ways?
Why when I am billed and bound to go to Mars do I paste Taedeare's picture to flight deck seven and endure co pilot Hansen's jokes about cheatin Women from Mars to Jupiter and back?
Taedeare what are you doing now and are you thinking about me?
missing Indian, missing buffalo
missing Indian, missing buffalo
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Missing one nickel,
missing one stoic Indian,
missing one contented buffalo,
missing sixty wasted years.
Where are the buffalo nickels,
where are the contented Indians,
where is the wasted years that I spent grieving over
lost herds of buffalo that didn't run when we shot them down.
Where are you familiar nickel lost but not forgotten.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Missing one nickel,
missing one stoic Indian,
missing one contented buffalo,
missing sixty wasted years.
Where are the buffalo nickels,
where are the contented Indians,
where is the wasted years that I spent grieving over
lost herds of buffalo that didn't run when we shot them down.
Where are you familiar nickel lost but not forgotten.
suspense and surprise grip the world over the missing airliner
suspense and surprise grip the world over the missing airliner
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As I write this we, the world anxiously waits for news in suspense and in surprise over the fate of the passengers on a missing Malaysian airliner.
Suspense because the airliner disappeared from the tracking grid and surprise because despite rescue efforts no trace of the airplane can be detected. It's unusual now a days for anything to be off the grid.
We are surprised and fearful for awhile that no one seems to know with certainty what has happened to the missing plane.
Missing people cause us distress. Each missing passenger has people distressed over their fate. In such a situation fearful grieving loved ones do not want to hear scientific explanations or probabilities. People terrified of the worse for their loved ones want to believe in an all powerful God who orders events and outcomes and can miraculously rescues those they love.
When things happen out of the ordinary it can temporarily upset the order of the World, even a world ruled by probabilities and scientific explanations.
Secretly, ask God this Sunday morning for a positive outcome for the missing passengers on the Malaysian Plane.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As I write this we, the world anxiously waits for news in suspense and in surprise over the fate of the passengers on a missing Malaysian airliner.
Suspense because the airliner disappeared from the tracking grid and surprise because despite rescue efforts no trace of the airplane can be detected. It's unusual now a days for anything to be off the grid.
We are surprised and fearful for awhile that no one seems to know with certainty what has happened to the missing plane.
Missing people cause us distress. Each missing passenger has people distressed over their fate. In such a situation fearful grieving loved ones do not want to hear scientific explanations or probabilities. People terrified of the worse for their loved ones want to believe in an all powerful God who orders events and outcomes and can miraculously rescues those they love.
When things happen out of the ordinary it can temporarily upset the order of the World, even a world ruled by probabilities and scientific explanations.
Secretly, ask God this Sunday morning for a positive outcome for the missing passengers on the Malaysian Plane.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Keith Urban and Big Joe Turner chase away the blues
Keith Urban and Big Joe Turner chase away the blues
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
There are so many plastic hippies, urban cowboys and gigantic truck driven suburban wrappers that it's given me the blues. I liked it better when we were authentic but hurting, sincere but malfunctioning.
Big Joe Turner I know how it feels to get old now. Sing "I hear you knocking one" one more time. Big Joe when you can't raise the voice to belt out another verse that rhymes Keith urban can pick up the torch.
Keith Urban sounds like he is hurting too. " I hear you knocking" and "I'll fly away" contain a little too much true emotion for modern days Keith. Take care of your self cowboy, life is a tough road; ask Big Joe Turner.
Who you gonna pass the torch to Keith Urban? Who is gonna sing with authenticity and help us not think about what we don't want to remember and who is gonna distract us after Big Joe Turner, me and you, Keith are gone?
Record "I hear you knocking" when you are in pain again Keith; there are so many plastic hippies, urban cowboys and gigantic truck driven suburban wrappers that it's given me the blues.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
There are so many plastic hippies, urban cowboys and gigantic truck driven suburban wrappers that it's given me the blues. I liked it better when we were authentic but hurting, sincere but malfunctioning.
Big Joe Turner I know how it feels to get old now. Sing "I hear you knocking one" one more time. Big Joe when you can't raise the voice to belt out another verse that rhymes Keith urban can pick up the torch.
Keith Urban sounds like he is hurting too. " I hear you knocking" and "I'll fly away" contain a little too much true emotion for modern days Keith. Take care of your self cowboy, life is a tough road; ask Big Joe Turner.
Who you gonna pass the torch to Keith Urban? Who is gonna sing with authenticity and help us not think about what we don't want to remember and who is gonna distract us after Big Joe Turner, me and you, Keith are gone?
Record "I hear you knocking" when you are in pain again Keith; there are so many plastic hippies, urban cowboys and gigantic truck driven suburban wrappers that it's given me the blues.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Leon Russell has lived long and changed much
Leon Russell has lived long and changed much
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What if you had to predict what an avatar of Leon Russell the talented singer and song writer would morph into over a long and productive career as a musician?
Leo Russell super talented back up sideman, solo artist, becomes song writer extraordinaire, becomes piano man. Leon Russell hangs out in the 60's and 70's with Dylan, George Harrison, and the shelter people a very, vary unique group of friends and admirers.
Leon Russell creative genius could belt out a song. Every few years a different style, familiar in a why didn't I think of that it seems like you heard the tune before way, just after Leon coined it.
Leon Russell so subtlety cool. He goes from looking like a shy fifty's character to a white haired avatar of god.
Leon Russell one of America's unique avatars. To dissect the American character start with Leon Russell. Start with him as a four year old piano playing genius with impeccable timing and end with Leon as an old man with a cane looking like an avatar of god sitting off stage in the twilight of his life. Leon smiling and watching while others sing the music he wrote.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What if you had to predict what an avatar of Leon Russell the talented singer and song writer would morph into over a long and productive career as a musician?
Leo Russell super talented back up sideman, solo artist, becomes song writer extraordinaire, becomes piano man. Leon Russell hangs out in the 60's and 70's with Dylan, George Harrison, and the shelter people a very, vary unique group of friends and admirers.
Leon Russell creative genius could belt out a song. Every few years a different style, familiar in a why didn't I think of that it seems like you heard the tune before way, just after Leon coined it.
Leon Russell so subtlety cool. He goes from looking like a shy fifty's character to a white haired avatar of god.
Leon Russell one of America's unique avatars. To dissect the American character start with Leon Russell. Start with him as a four year old piano playing genius with impeccable timing and end with Leon as an old man with a cane looking like an avatar of god sitting off stage in the twilight of his life. Leon smiling and watching while others sing the music he wrote.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
For my foreign readers/ [if any] part 2
For my foreign readers/ [if any] part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Dear Mr. Pritchard:
I read your article criticizing America and I must protest. Your criticism does an injustice to most of America, which is the best place in the world to live and work.
However the place I now find myself is so full of cheats and hustlers that I must agree with your overall critique of our country.
I live at the beach in Florida. I won't say the name of the city but it is near Daytona Beach.
I do not mean to condemn the entire State of Florida. It is just the South beach between the Hilton Hotel to the dunes and caves where the public beach ends that is filled to capacity with cheats, hustlers and pirates.
A few days ago I was at the beach with Shirley a friend from the Wal Mart in town. We were walking in the warm ocean looking for sea shells enjoying the waves when our towels, shirts and shoes were stolen.
Fortunately our wallets and valuables were in our car seven miles away. In the long hot walk back to our car we were sunburned and stepped on about a hundred jelly fish.
I tried to borrow money but these wealthy wall street types retired here from New York wouldn't listen to my explanation. Some went so far as to put their hands over their ears so as not to hear us thinking us homeless beggars.
One or two business types selling things at the beach offered us tee shirts and thong style shoes on credit at 1000% profit to them.
Florida has the most beautiful beaches in the world. However, don't be stuck in Florida with no money temporarily, or no shoes and no shirts. The sun is brutal and the natives are worse.
end
Dear Mr. Pritchard
I read your criticism of America. You forgot to mention people smoking in public. They do it here in West Virginia. Now that's barbaric.
end
Dear Mr. Pritchard"
I read your critique of America. Try living in Chicago. Women here ignore you if you don't have a good job and won't spend lots of money on them in fancy restaurants. Someday I am going to save up enough to move to Florida.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Dear Mr. Pritchard:
I read your article criticizing America and I must protest. Your criticism does an injustice to most of America, which is the best place in the world to live and work.
However the place I now find myself is so full of cheats and hustlers that I must agree with your overall critique of our country.
I live at the beach in Florida. I won't say the name of the city but it is near Daytona Beach.
I do not mean to condemn the entire State of Florida. It is just the South beach between the Hilton Hotel to the dunes and caves where the public beach ends that is filled to capacity with cheats, hustlers and pirates.
A few days ago I was at the beach with Shirley a friend from the Wal Mart in town. We were walking in the warm ocean looking for sea shells enjoying the waves when our towels, shirts and shoes were stolen.
Fortunately our wallets and valuables were in our car seven miles away. In the long hot walk back to our car we were sunburned and stepped on about a hundred jelly fish.
I tried to borrow money but these wealthy wall street types retired here from New York wouldn't listen to my explanation. Some went so far as to put their hands over their ears so as not to hear us thinking us homeless beggars.
One or two business types selling things at the beach offered us tee shirts and thong style shoes on credit at 1000% profit to them.
Florida has the most beautiful beaches in the world. However, don't be stuck in Florida with no money temporarily, or no shoes and no shirts. The sun is brutal and the natives are worse.
end
Dear Mr. Pritchard
I read your criticism of America. You forgot to mention people smoking in public. They do it here in West Virginia. Now that's barbaric.
end
Dear Mr. Pritchard"
I read your critique of America. Try living in Chicago. Women here ignore you if you don't have a good job and won't spend lots of money on them in fancy restaurants. Someday I am going to save up enough to move to Florida.
For my foreign readers [ if any]
for my foreign readers if any [ if any]
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
In many ways America appears to me to be an uncivilized Country. It shames me to say this about the place that I love and live in.
Our system of prisons when I think about it is barbaric. How we in America are so miserly with our handicapped citizens in proportion to our countries immense wealth shames me to consider. The fact that Guantanamo Bay silently officiously endures to defy common decency in the twenty first century is shocking and sickening. The greed of many Americans and the crass worship of wealth displayed in America is embarrassing.
I have never lived in another Country or in another time period of the past to properly judge my country, America, the United States against other Countries and civilizations from earlier eras. Perhaps all Countries are this way, despite the good, shocking bad and lacking in certain aspects if considered too intimately especially after one has lived a long time.
Only when I read the great authors of the past can I catch a fleeting glimpse of what other Countries than my own are really like. Shakespeare, Tolstoy, James Joyce, Proust and the writers of the Bible shine a light on human nature and by reading one can distill what is civilization and Judge the times and places the current reader lives in against historical standards.
Me, living in America now I sometimes feel like Willie Loman the character created by Author Miller in his play " the Death of a Salesman". I especially feel this way when I drive my car about the place where I live. People honk and rush aggressively at me as I now drive a little slower because of diminishing eyesight, perceived unusually bad weather and preoccupation with my own thoughts. Little human decency is displayed by drivers where I live.
Henry David Thoreau wrote about and judged Americans in Concord Massachusetts in nineteenth century America and found them lacking. In the process he comes across as an aging curmudgeon.
Perhaps rather than a judgment of the place we live in, criticism of our country is just aging and is universal, a human trait displayed by the elderly in all countries and times and places.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
In many ways America appears to me to be an uncivilized Country. It shames me to say this about the place that I love and live in.
Our system of prisons when I think about it is barbaric. How we in America are so miserly with our handicapped citizens in proportion to our countries immense wealth shames me to consider. The fact that Guantanamo Bay silently officiously endures to defy common decency in the twenty first century is shocking and sickening. The greed of many Americans and the crass worship of wealth displayed in America is embarrassing.
I have never lived in another Country or in another time period of the past to properly judge my country, America, the United States against other Countries and civilizations from earlier eras. Perhaps all Countries are this way, despite the good, shocking bad and lacking in certain aspects if considered too intimately especially after one has lived a long time.
Only when I read the great authors of the past can I catch a fleeting glimpse of what other Countries than my own are really like. Shakespeare, Tolstoy, James Joyce, Proust and the writers of the Bible shine a light on human nature and by reading one can distill what is civilization and Judge the times and places the current reader lives in against historical standards.
Me, living in America now I sometimes feel like Willie Loman the character created by Author Miller in his play " the Death of a Salesman". I especially feel this way when I drive my car about the place where I live. People honk and rush aggressively at me as I now drive a little slower because of diminishing eyesight, perceived unusually bad weather and preoccupation with my own thoughts. Little human decency is displayed by drivers where I live.
Henry David Thoreau wrote about and judged Americans in Concord Massachusetts in nineteenth century America and found them lacking. In the process he comes across as an aging curmudgeon.
Perhaps rather than a judgment of the place we live in, criticism of our country is just aging and is universal, a human trait displayed by the elderly in all countries and times and places.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
left hands interlaced at the fingers formed mandala circles/ draft one
left hands interlaced at the fingers formed mandala circles
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Left hands joined and interlaced at the fingers formed mandala circles.
Government funds were used to compensate individuals for the loss of use and pain caused by the surgical removal of their left hand. Once the number of 400 left hands was reached for a specific geographic area Scientists began the arduous process of arranging the brightly colored severed hands into the pre-directed mandala circles.
Where the pre-direction came from to assemble the severed hands in a circle was unknown but conventional wisdom believed it was secret instructions from Space far beyond Earth. That was the scientific view, there was also a religious view and numerous conflicting opinions as well.
Two dozen Mandala circles made of individual severed brightly colored left hands contained secret messages or instructions. To date the messages had not been deciphered. Scientists were hopeful that soon they would be able to solve the riddle of the messages in the severed left hands, interlocked at the fingers into colorful mandala circles.
Why the number of 400 for the number of hands for each mandala? How did some people develop brightly colored left hands? For now that is classified information.
Pictures of the mandalas will be available soon. The colors of the hands is unforgettable.
end part 1
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Left hands joined and interlaced at the fingers formed mandala circles.
Government funds were used to compensate individuals for the loss of use and pain caused by the surgical removal of their left hand. Once the number of 400 left hands was reached for a specific geographic area Scientists began the arduous process of arranging the brightly colored severed hands into the pre-directed mandala circles.
Where the pre-direction came from to assemble the severed hands in a circle was unknown but conventional wisdom believed it was secret instructions from Space far beyond Earth. That was the scientific view, there was also a religious view and numerous conflicting opinions as well.
Two dozen Mandala circles made of individual severed brightly colored left hands contained secret messages or instructions. To date the messages had not been deciphered. Scientists were hopeful that soon they would be able to solve the riddle of the messages in the severed left hands, interlocked at the fingers into colorful mandala circles.
Why the number of 400 for the number of hands for each mandala? How did some people develop brightly colored left hands? For now that is classified information.
Pictures of the mandalas will be available soon. The colors of the hands is unforgettable.
end part 1
investors business daily stop trashing our President
investors business daily stop trashing our President
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Investors business daily stop trashing our President. We get it, you don't like his budget, you don't like his views on the role of government, you don't like his executive ability.
Every time I read the editorial page in Investors daily it's a barrage of criticism of our President.
As I was told early in my business career, if you don't like the Man respect the position. It must be difficult to be President, what with all the conflicting agendas among the constituents.
I like the business coverage of Investors Daily and the stock scoring is unique. Lay off the relentless criticism of our President. It strains your credibility Investors Daily editorial staff.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Investors business daily stop trashing our President. We get it, you don't like his budget, you don't like his views on the role of government, you don't like his executive ability.
Every time I read the editorial page in Investors daily it's a barrage of criticism of our President.
As I was told early in my business career, if you don't like the Man respect the position. It must be difficult to be President, what with all the conflicting agendas among the constituents.
I like the business coverage of Investors Daily and the stock scoring is unique. Lay off the relentless criticism of our President. It strains your credibility Investors Daily editorial staff.
the capacity of the human voice to carry emotion
the capacity of the human voice to carry emotion
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Willie Mae " big momma" Thornton demonstrates the epitome of the capacity of the human voice to carry emotion in two of her recordings " Ball and Chain" of which she wrote and " Summertime".
Listen carefully to "ball and chain". The emotion in her heart seeps out through palpitations carried on her breath expressed through her voice across her lips.
The human voice, individual and unique. No two voices are exactly alike. Try to remember a cherished voice from your past. It lingers just beyond the range of hearing like a vanished palpitating final breath.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Willie Mae " big momma" Thornton demonstrates the epitome of the capacity of the human voice to carry emotion in two of her recordings " Ball and Chain" of which she wrote and " Summertime".
Listen carefully to "ball and chain". The emotion in her heart seeps out through palpitations carried on her breath expressed through her voice across her lips.
The human voice, individual and unique. No two voices are exactly alike. Try to remember a cherished voice from your past. It lingers just beyond the range of hearing like a vanished palpitating final breath.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
a drone is a drone is a drone
a drone is a drone is a drone
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I came down to Venezuela to investigate allegations that the United States army was using unmanned drones to dispatch civilian individuals.
In a village two hundred miles South of Calabazo an incident had occurred that United nations war crimes monitors felt could be unlawful interference by intelligent machines in the death of a boy of about nine years old.
I entered the house where the boy's bloated body lay with a sense of foreboding and unease.
Maybe a quarter of a million bees and wasps slept quietly on all the walls of the interior of the home. My steps did not seem to disturb the resting insects. The insects bunched in colorful patterns and there was a surrealistic texture to the nesting that suggested intelligent design. More than anything the colorful circular designs created by the resting bees and wasps resembled the Mandala's of India that I had drawn as teenager to please one of my girlfriends.
What kind of damage could swarms of these colorful bees, wasps and hornets inflict? I dared not roll the dead bloated boy over to inspect the face to find out.
Leaving the small house I felt more than heard the military weather drone high above monitoring my steps as I rushed through the deserted village to return to our vehicle. In my head I began to figure my report on the incident of whether drones could now influence insects to attack humans.
A drone is a drone is a drone I thought.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I came down to Venezuela to investigate allegations that the United States army was using unmanned drones to dispatch civilian individuals.
In a village two hundred miles South of Calabazo an incident had occurred that United nations war crimes monitors felt could be unlawful interference by intelligent machines in the death of a boy of about nine years old.
I entered the house where the boy's bloated body lay with a sense of foreboding and unease.
Maybe a quarter of a million bees and wasps slept quietly on all the walls of the interior of the home. My steps did not seem to disturb the resting insects. The insects bunched in colorful patterns and there was a surrealistic texture to the nesting that suggested intelligent design. More than anything the colorful circular designs created by the resting bees and wasps resembled the Mandala's of India that I had drawn as teenager to please one of my girlfriends.
What kind of damage could swarms of these colorful bees, wasps and hornets inflict? I dared not roll the dead bloated boy over to inspect the face to find out.
Leaving the small house I felt more than heard the military weather drone high above monitoring my steps as I rushed through the deserted village to return to our vehicle. In my head I began to figure my report on the incident of whether drones could now influence insects to attack humans.
A drone is a drone is a drone I thought.
her face floated on a puddle/ draft 2
her face floated on a puddle/ draft 2
fiction
edward w Pritchard
Her face floated on a puddle of indifference;
stern porcelain exhibited as a mask,
blushing innocent at the edges,
wry at the eyes,
red sashed corseted encounters prefigured at the lips.
Will as manifest destiny.
Cracked face sinks in oblivion,
puddle become etched mandala of dimensionless melancholy.
Mandala whirl and pulsate; encounter-withdrawal, encounter-withdrawal, om, om;
Om, Om.
fiction
edward w Pritchard
Her face floated on a puddle of indifference;
stern porcelain exhibited as a mask,
blushing innocent at the edges,
wry at the eyes,
red sashed corseted encounters prefigured at the lips.
Will as manifest destiny.
Cracked face sinks in oblivion,
puddle become etched mandala of dimensionless melancholy.
Mandala whirl and pulsate; encounter-withdrawal, encounter-withdrawal, om, om;
Om, Om.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Can economists and bureaucrats run the world?
Can economists and bureaucrats run the world?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Events in the Ukraine are unfolding now that may determine the hegemony of Russian power to influence events in the world for the near future. Using real politics Putin struts and gambles in the Ukraine.
Meanwhile in the United States- How does events in the Ukraine this evening effect Wall street's Monday Morning open?
For a clue look at Qiwi plc a leading provider of e payment systems in Russia, headquartered in Moscow, Russia. Qiwi trades in the United States as an ADR and came public last Summer and has had a meteoric rise in market capitalization. In addition Qiwi is on Investor's Daily IBD 50 list at number 4 and has "Smart Select" [trade mark Investors Daily.] ratings of 97, 99, 96. That "power" rating is a real good indicator for a stock to have according to the experts at IBD. QIWI as a business investment has potential.
Qiwi reports earnings Tuesday morning March 4, 2014.
Can economists and bureaucrats run the world? As a straight business investment QIWI does great, accepting e payments in Russia. What is the political risk of doing business in Russia today? Current pending anti terrorism legislation in Russia has previously hurt the stock QIWI.
Watch for price action Monday in QIWI currently trading at $46.53.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Events in the Ukraine are unfolding now that may determine the hegemony of Russian power to influence events in the world for the near future. Using real politics Putin struts and gambles in the Ukraine.
Meanwhile in the United States- How does events in the Ukraine this evening effect Wall street's Monday Morning open?
For a clue look at Qiwi plc a leading provider of e payment systems in Russia, headquartered in Moscow, Russia. Qiwi trades in the United States as an ADR and came public last Summer and has had a meteoric rise in market capitalization. In addition Qiwi is on Investor's Daily IBD 50 list at number 4 and has "Smart Select" [trade mark Investors Daily.] ratings of 97, 99, 96. That "power" rating is a real good indicator for a stock to have according to the experts at IBD. QIWI as a business investment has potential.
Qiwi reports earnings Tuesday morning March 4, 2014.
Can economists and bureaucrats run the world? As a straight business investment QIWI does great, accepting e payments in Russia. What is the political risk of doing business in Russia today? Current pending anti terrorism legislation in Russia has previously hurt the stock QIWI.
Watch for price action Monday in QIWI currently trading at $46.53.
War threatens in The Ukraine; the United States considers it's options
War threatens in The Ukraine; the United States considers it's options
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Last week the United States cut it's military budget substantially. The next day Israel lobbed a few missiles at Hezbollah. Now Russian troops are entering The Ukraine.
Me I always suspect the military industrial complex in America is somehow involved when world peace is interrupted.
War, war, war. How can stocks and bonds advance on the open on Wall Street tomorrow morning if sabers are being rattled in the Crimea? I know that the Charge of the Light brigade happened in the Ukraine once, that Tolstoy fought there and now I see Russia might invade the Ukraine. Honestly I missed Ukrainian independence from Russia I guess, I thought Ukraine was a Russian State all along.
I sympathize with the Ukrainians and hope they voted recently to join NATO for their protection. Meanwhile what should the United States do to help The Ukraine?
My usual first solution is diplomacy.
Here is what I wrote before in a similar situation.
America let's reconsider// our options in [Syria]// strike // change to "our options in The Ukraine"
fiction
edward w pritchard
There is a definite war party in America constantly urging us into foreign wars. This author is not privy to all the facts concerning intervention in The Ukraine but based on our experience in Iraq and Afghanistan your author suggests a period of cooling off while every diplomatic avenue is considered before the United States gets involved in an expensive foreign escapade. Since the government is trying many diplomatic attempts to resolve or delay entry into the internal problems of The Ukraine; here's is one more suggested previously by the author to keep the United States troops out of The Ukraine. Any effort that delays or eliminates the US being drug into war is to be considered.
War is absurd; Gidget goes to The Ukraine on a peace mission
fiction
edward w pritchard
Desperate to try anything to stop the violence in The Ukraine the United States sent the fictional character Gidget, movie and television star of the 1950's, and 1960's to The Ukraine on a peace mission. Still perky and upbeat at age 72 plus, what better emissary of the United States than Gidget to send to the war pending nation of The Ukraine to stop the insanity of war.
Both Ukrainians and Russian forces alike admitted confusion by the choice of ambassador from the powerful United States. " What's an untrained, inexperienced, broken hearted college drop-out going to do to help us settle our differences" said one of the Ukrainians who choose to remain nameless, but who was obviously familiar with the Gidget character created by Frederick Kohner American screen writer.
Meanwhile Gidget has been staying in and touring the City of Yalta as a tourist, enjoying varenyky, pierogi and Kiev cake. By unspoken mutual agreement both sides in the Ukrainian situation have temporarily suspended hostilities in The Ukraine until Miss Lawrence [maiden name] returns to Hollywood.
"Yalta is a beautiful City" said Gidget, "reminds me a little of Rome". Asked about pending War in The Ukraine Gidget Lawrence wrinkled her nose and frowned " War is simply absurd".
Ask for comment, on Gidget's peace keeping mission to The Ukraine from his home in America, Gidget's one time love interest actor and singer James Darren [ now married] said "Gidget's quite a character, if anyone can stop violence from occurring in The Ukraine I am sure Gidget can do it. " " Gidget once worked at the United Nations you know in the peace keeping department in the 1969 telemovie " Gidget Grows Up" concluded Mr. Darren.
Meanwhile War threatens in the Ukraine.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Last week the United States cut it's military budget substantially. The next day Israel lobbed a few missiles at Hezbollah. Now Russian troops are entering The Ukraine.
Me I always suspect the military industrial complex in America is somehow involved when world peace is interrupted.
War, war, war. How can stocks and bonds advance on the open on Wall Street tomorrow morning if sabers are being rattled in the Crimea? I know that the Charge of the Light brigade happened in the Ukraine once, that Tolstoy fought there and now I see Russia might invade the Ukraine. Honestly I missed Ukrainian independence from Russia I guess, I thought Ukraine was a Russian State all along.
I sympathize with the Ukrainians and hope they voted recently to join NATO for their protection. Meanwhile what should the United States do to help The Ukraine?
My usual first solution is diplomacy.
Here is what I wrote before in a similar situation.
America let's reconsider// our options in [Syria]// strike // change to "our options in The Ukraine"
fiction
edward w pritchard
There is a definite war party in America constantly urging us into foreign wars. This author is not privy to all the facts concerning intervention in The Ukraine but based on our experience in Iraq and Afghanistan your author suggests a period of cooling off while every diplomatic avenue is considered before the United States gets involved in an expensive foreign escapade. Since the government is trying many diplomatic attempts to resolve or delay entry into the internal problems of The Ukraine; here's is one more suggested previously by the author to keep the United States troops out of The Ukraine. Any effort that delays or eliminates the US being drug into war is to be considered.
War is absurd; Gidget goes to The Ukraine on a peace mission
fiction
edward w pritchard
Desperate to try anything to stop the violence in The Ukraine the United States sent the fictional character Gidget, movie and television star of the 1950's, and 1960's to The Ukraine on a peace mission. Still perky and upbeat at age 72 plus, what better emissary of the United States than Gidget to send to the war pending nation of The Ukraine to stop the insanity of war.
Both Ukrainians and Russian forces alike admitted confusion by the choice of ambassador from the powerful United States. " What's an untrained, inexperienced, broken hearted college drop-out going to do to help us settle our differences" said one of the Ukrainians who choose to remain nameless, but who was obviously familiar with the Gidget character created by Frederick Kohner American screen writer.
Meanwhile Gidget has been staying in and touring the City of Yalta as a tourist, enjoying varenyky, pierogi and Kiev cake. By unspoken mutual agreement both sides in the Ukrainian situation have temporarily suspended hostilities in The Ukraine until Miss Lawrence [maiden name] returns to Hollywood.
"Yalta is a beautiful City" said Gidget, "reminds me a little of Rome". Asked about pending War in The Ukraine Gidget Lawrence wrinkled her nose and frowned " War is simply absurd".
Ask for comment, on Gidget's peace keeping mission to The Ukraine from his home in America, Gidget's one time love interest actor and singer James Darren [ now married] said "Gidget's quite a character, if anyone can stop violence from occurring in The Ukraine I am sure Gidget can do it. " " Gidget once worked at the United Nations you know in the peace keeping department in the 1969 telemovie " Gidget Grows Up" concluded Mr. Darren.
Meanwhile War threatens in the Ukraine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)