What happened to the path/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
what happened to the path?
fiction
edward w Pritchard
What happened to the path?
Wandering and searching for familiar ground
twists and turns to avoid past sins and mistakes
tacking forward this way and that
follow the sun and the stars in lonely journey
towards what?
will be revealed when we get there
back stiff and straight forward and onward did once we march
weary now time abandons us
turn around just ahead
Nowhere within plain sight
before, before-again, before
Saturday, November 29, 2014
my neighbor's motivations
my neighbor's motivation's
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I who so fear perpetual anonymity am so confused by my neighbor's disjointed ambiguity concerning their needs for endless privacy and at the same time conspicuous display.
Manicured landscapes, matching hunter green window panes, and burnt orange roof tiles advertised wealth and status to the indifferent world while private security and professionally trained bark-less dogs protect my neighbor from prying eyes. Additionally two internet security software scans invisibly march hour upon hour to maintain silent vigilance across and upon my neighbors virtual existence.
Highly motivated is my neighbor to have bro-friendships with Lebron James or President Obama but my neighbor trembles at Black folks moving neighborhood by neighborhood North toward his house. Envious is mine neighbor to be on a first name basis with celebrities starring in the Game of Thrones or the movie of the week, yet my neighbor builds a wall with a locking gate around his house, yard and children.
I who so fear perpetual anonymity am so confused by my neighbor's disjointed ambiguity concerning their needs for endless privacy and at the same time conspicuous display. In all things I am mine neighbor.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
I who so fear perpetual anonymity am so confused by my neighbor's disjointed ambiguity concerning their needs for endless privacy and at the same time conspicuous display.
Manicured landscapes, matching hunter green window panes, and burnt orange roof tiles advertised wealth and status to the indifferent world while private security and professionally trained bark-less dogs protect my neighbor from prying eyes. Additionally two internet security software scans invisibly march hour upon hour to maintain silent vigilance across and upon my neighbors virtual existence.
Highly motivated is my neighbor to have bro-friendships with Lebron James or President Obama but my neighbor trembles at Black folks moving neighborhood by neighborhood North toward his house. Envious is mine neighbor to be on a first name basis with celebrities starring in the Game of Thrones or the movie of the week, yet my neighbor builds a wall with a locking gate around his house, yard and children.
I who so fear perpetual anonymity am so confused by my neighbor's disjointed ambiguity concerning their needs for endless privacy and at the same time conspicuous display. In all things I am mine neighbor.
Friday, November 28, 2014
autumn leaves they fall each November/ part 2
autumn leaves they fall each November/ part 2
fiction
edward w pritchard
Cora, my Cora return soon from the underground it's overwhelming when hostile nature ushers in Winter loneliness and darkness with endless flurries of useless, discarded leaves. I long to see the buds of fertile spring time beginning to spout in warm moist valleys.
Kore, my Kore we are in perpetual darkness here, the days are short and the nights are interminable awaiting your return. Your sudden disappearance has unsettled us all. When we will see your regal face again?
Persephone, you whose name may not be repeated or spoken, gone but not forgotten, in secret and in communal darkness we whisper your names and titles.
Carry an ear of corn with two clutched open hands if you must venerable queen, but return with the warm Spring rains to drive away Winter darkness and desolation.
Cora, Kore, Persephone I call your name but you do not answer, where have you gone my eternal feminine?
She who may not be spoken to; through three cycles I search for you in mythical places that do not exist on any map. Have you been abducted? When shall yesterday's harvest be renewed with the green buds of next gentle Spring?
Dance, dance she who is without legs or arms; should I fall far far below guide me through Hell to return to the light. Cora I call your name but you do not answer, Kore I preform the rituals but you do not appear. The harvest rots on the vine in barren fields awaiting ritual reunion. Alone in miserable anonymity we dare not speak your name mistress Queen Persephone; when shall next Spring budding commence anew?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Cora, my Cora return soon from the underground it's overwhelming when hostile nature ushers in Winter loneliness and darkness with endless flurries of useless, discarded leaves. I long to see the buds of fertile spring time beginning to spout in warm moist valleys.
Kore, my Kore we are in perpetual darkness here, the days are short and the nights are interminable awaiting your return. Your sudden disappearance has unsettled us all. When we will see your regal face again?
Persephone, you whose name may not be repeated or spoken, gone but not forgotten, in secret and in communal darkness we whisper your names and titles.
Carry an ear of corn with two clutched open hands if you must venerable queen, but return with the warm Spring rains to drive away Winter darkness and desolation.
Cora, Kore, Persephone I call your name but you do not answer, where have you gone my eternal feminine?
She who may not be spoken to; through three cycles I search for you in mythical places that do not exist on any map. Have you been abducted? When shall yesterday's harvest be renewed with the green buds of next gentle Spring?
Dance, dance she who is without legs or arms; should I fall far far below guide me through Hell to return to the light. Cora I call your name but you do not answer, Kore I preform the rituals but you do not appear. The harvest rots on the vine in barren fields awaiting ritual reunion. Alone in miserable anonymity we dare not speak your name mistress Queen Persephone; when shall next Spring budding commence anew?
today's secret message
today's secret message
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The terrorists have cut the telephone lines over in Iraq and the rioters here at home have clogged the entrances in front of the stores on Black Friday to get their message across to raise your consciousness. Sounds like they have been industrious and busy so early this Black Friday morning.
Judge not them too harshly for their lives also have their discontents and inconveniences. They have to hitch a ride to the demonstration, or worse take a cross town bus. Buses are always late and it's hard on the knees and joints to stand out in the cold wind waiting to go to work. While you are on the bus you always have to keep your eyes down so you don't startle or frighten anyone and you can't appear to smile when you notice a very old couple or child doing something agelessly human.
Then there's the trouble about a place to live. Out of work again with no one in the family who will put them up. All their good personal stuff has been lost or chipped up in the frequent moves lately. Over in Iraq one who is with the cause saddens to find his favorite Indian blanket has been cut up for bandages for fallen comrades.
And the matter of the food is quite unsettling. No one is enough connected anymore to know their few favorite delicacies. Mostly for them it's communal food from a gigantic pot served on Styrofoam plates. No one proposes a toast to the cause anymore; changing and criticizing the world has become so passé lately.
Sometimes a terrorist over in Iraq or a rioter here at home just wants a young child to ask them what kind of work do you do Sir? or How did you get that scar on your forearm Mr. bad guy? It's hard sometimes to always be an outlaw and to be constantly on the run.To be out in the cold is really to be nowhere
Riding the bumpy bus with the strong carbon monoxide smell while very tired late at night after terrorizing in Iraq or rioting here in America a demonstrator will roll his eyes when he hears the secret sadness in someone's voice when they tell another story about how one of their neighbors got really wealthy by buying things on the cheap and selling them so-so dear to the good folks down the lane.
What's it about Holidays that are so universal? When you were a kid you saw things with one set of eyes and now that you are a tad too much the wiser you see the same wonderful stuff differently.
Yes sir, sometimes it seems like we know the ending to this Play we are watching before it's really over; Never the less we are grateful just to be here. Thanks to the few supporters of our secret and unheralded mass movement.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The terrorists have cut the telephone lines over in Iraq and the rioters here at home have clogged the entrances in front of the stores on Black Friday to get their message across to raise your consciousness. Sounds like they have been industrious and busy so early this Black Friday morning.
Judge not them too harshly for their lives also have their discontents and inconveniences. They have to hitch a ride to the demonstration, or worse take a cross town bus. Buses are always late and it's hard on the knees and joints to stand out in the cold wind waiting to go to work. While you are on the bus you always have to keep your eyes down so you don't startle or frighten anyone and you can't appear to smile when you notice a very old couple or child doing something agelessly human.
Then there's the trouble about a place to live. Out of work again with no one in the family who will put them up. All their good personal stuff has been lost or chipped up in the frequent moves lately. Over in Iraq one who is with the cause saddens to find his favorite Indian blanket has been cut up for bandages for fallen comrades.
And the matter of the food is quite unsettling. No one is enough connected anymore to know their few favorite delicacies. Mostly for them it's communal food from a gigantic pot served on Styrofoam plates. No one proposes a toast to the cause anymore; changing and criticizing the world has become so passé lately.
Sometimes a terrorist over in Iraq or a rioter here at home just wants a young child to ask them what kind of work do you do Sir? or How did you get that scar on your forearm Mr. bad guy? It's hard sometimes to always be an outlaw and to be constantly on the run.To be out in the cold is really to be nowhere
Riding the bumpy bus with the strong carbon monoxide smell while very tired late at night after terrorizing in Iraq or rioting here in America a demonstrator will roll his eyes when he hears the secret sadness in someone's voice when they tell another story about how one of their neighbors got really wealthy by buying things on the cheap and selling them so-so dear to the good folks down the lane.
What's it about Holidays that are so universal? When you were a kid you saw things with one set of eyes and now that you are a tad too much the wiser you see the same wonderful stuff differently.
Yes sir, sometimes it seems like we know the ending to this Play we are watching before it's really over; Never the less we are grateful just to be here. Thanks to the few supporters of our secret and unheralded mass movement.
Thursday, November 27, 2014
properly grateful, appropriately unsettled Thanksgiving 2014
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
2014- Thanksgiving
Properly grateful, appropriately unsettled we approach today, Thanksgiving 2014.
Never the less we are grateful to just be here. Thanks to the few supporters of our secret and unheralded mass movement.
Hopefully tomorrow these rioters across America will not unite to destroy Black Friday by all going shopping at 6AM on mass and clogging the lines at check-out for all the other good people [ those who don't wear the same button as they do-{1}],
and thereby keep an unforgettable shopping experience from occurring which would be bad for business and disturbing to Wall Street and the national psyche. That's the rioters new strategy to change America " hit then where they ain't"- attributed to Knute Rockne-ancient deceased football coach.
Thanksgiving 2014- plenty, abundance, good food, peace, serenity- t'ain't all bad,
Here's what I wrote before:
the changes brought about by suffering
fiction
edward w pritchard
The changes brought about by suffering
what they are know not I.
But real,
loneliness, failure,
ambition fizzled,
harmony lost,
solitary existence.
Emergence on a dark night of rain drenched wretchedness,
flux flashes, red dawn dripping fatuity.
end
[1] as sung by Melanie Sofka
Edward w Pritchard
2014- Thanksgiving
Properly grateful, appropriately unsettled we approach today, Thanksgiving 2014.
Never the less we are grateful to just be here. Thanks to the few supporters of our secret and unheralded mass movement.
Hopefully tomorrow these rioters across America will not unite to destroy Black Friday by all going shopping at 6AM on mass and clogging the lines at check-out for all the other good people [ those who don't wear the same button as they do-{1}],
and thereby keep an unforgettable shopping experience from occurring which would be bad for business and disturbing to Wall Street and the national psyche. That's the rioters new strategy to change America " hit then where they ain't"- attributed to Knute Rockne-ancient deceased football coach.
Thanksgiving 2014- plenty, abundance, good food, peace, serenity- t'ain't all bad,
Here's what I wrote before:
the changes brought about by suffering
fiction
edward w pritchard
The changes brought about by suffering
what they are know not I.
But real,
loneliness, failure,
ambition fizzled,
harmony lost,
solitary existence.
Emergence on a dark night of rain drenched wretchedness,
flux flashes, red dawn dripping fatuity.
end
[1] as sung by Melanie Sofka
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Friday; windy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping/ part 2
Friday; windy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The rioters have began to burn cars and houses as they walk en mass through neighborhoods. Anyone with a landscaped yard, anyone with a nice home, anyone who doesn't put thirty or forty US dollars in a Water proof glass jar on a small folding chair at the front of their yard is subject to being burnt out by the roving rioters. Once they take your jar with your contribution to the cause the rioters use a large broom and paint a purple stripe down the center of the front door your house, then property and loved ones are safe for now. Safe until the color changes again, from purple to orange, or green, anything but bright red. Red is the symbol that a traitor to the rioter's and the revolution's cause lives within.
I have long since given up on protecting the house. Funny it isn't burned yet; for the last several decades I haven't kept the place up but in time it will be torched, it's been weeks since I put any money in a can in a sealed glass jar sitting on a folding chair on the curb. At first I would sit out in the cold late at night and cheer the rioters.
I lost the car to thieves a month ago. No matter it wasn't dependable enough to drive about in times like these and of course I fear the Police and the Guardsmen.
I watch the squirrels to decide how to behave during the times of rioting. The squirrels are very busy and extremely nervous as they move about finding and hiding food. I have constructed a hidden lair over by the lake where I hide underground when I hear the thump of the footsteps of the rioters coming through my neighborhood. The rest of the time I am like the squirrels, always moving, searching, and storing away for later. I used an ancient abandoned badger's den for my secret lair; course I had to enlarge it some by digging and scraping but it is snug and warm inside and I think it is good protection from the bands of roving rioters.
Sometimes I ask my neighbor Goldstein what will happen next. He isn't a rioter but they tell him at synagogue what is going on. At least that's what I think. I never talk to children. If they don't like your looks or are feeling contrary today they will report you to the rioters for spite.
In camouflage clothes with black paint on my face and hands I lay underground in my lair very quietly when the rioters move about. It's very dangerous when the rioters are on the move. At least that's what I think.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The rioters have began to burn cars and houses as they walk en mass through neighborhoods. Anyone with a landscaped yard, anyone with a nice home, anyone who doesn't put thirty or forty US dollars in a Water proof glass jar on a small folding chair at the front of their yard is subject to being burnt out by the roving rioters. Once they take your jar with your contribution to the cause the rioters use a large broom and paint a purple stripe down the center of the front door your house, then property and loved ones are safe for now. Safe until the color changes again, from purple to orange, or green, anything but bright red. Red is the symbol that a traitor to the rioter's and the revolution's cause lives within.
I have long since given up on protecting the house. Funny it isn't burned yet; for the last several decades I haven't kept the place up but in time it will be torched, it's been weeks since I put any money in a can in a sealed glass jar sitting on a folding chair on the curb. At first I would sit out in the cold late at night and cheer the rioters.
I lost the car to thieves a month ago. No matter it wasn't dependable enough to drive about in times like these and of course I fear the Police and the Guardsmen.
I watch the squirrels to decide how to behave during the times of rioting. The squirrels are very busy and extremely nervous as they move about finding and hiding food. I have constructed a hidden lair over by the lake where I hide underground when I hear the thump of the footsteps of the rioters coming through my neighborhood. The rest of the time I am like the squirrels, always moving, searching, and storing away for later. I used an ancient abandoned badger's den for my secret lair; course I had to enlarge it some by digging and scraping but it is snug and warm inside and I think it is good protection from the bands of roving rioters.
Sometimes I ask my neighbor Goldstein what will happen next. He isn't a rioter but they tell him at synagogue what is going on. At least that's what I think. I never talk to children. If they don't like your looks or are feeling contrary today they will report you to the rioters for spite.
In camouflage clothes with black paint on my face and hands I lay underground in my lair very quietly when the rioters move about. It's very dangerous when the rioters are on the move. At least that's what I think.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
when will the governor of Missouri reinstitue the riot act?
when will the governor of Missouri reinstitute the riot act?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
We in Ohio remember what happened at Kent State in May 1970 when the governor gets his back against the wall by rioting and to save face calls up the riot act. [ Google riot act now]. We don't know much about the Governor of Missouri but assume as a boy he decided to make something of himself and reputation is important to him.
How will the Governor of Missouri react to rioters in Ferguson if they interfere with Thanksgiving turkey or Friday shopping across his State?
Here's what I wrote before about what happens when the tanks roll in against civilians:
When tanks are pictured on the news
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A tank is like a strong man with two hands clutched in a knuckles facing forward fist.
Airpower brings death and destruction but tanks bring capitulation.
Civilians die when the tanks roll in. When tanks are pictured on the news the battle is in the final stages and the game is serious. Slogans are useless when tanks belch metal and fire at exposed flesh.
Soon weapons makers will send flying tanks into battle. Soon there will be no more civilians.
It's time again for Buffy Sainte Marie to sing " Universal soldier". The tanks are about to roll again.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
We in Ohio remember what happened at Kent State in May 1970 when the governor gets his back against the wall by rioting and to save face calls up the riot act. [ Google riot act now]. We don't know much about the Governor of Missouri but assume as a boy he decided to make something of himself and reputation is important to him.
How will the Governor of Missouri react to rioters in Ferguson if they interfere with Thanksgiving turkey or Friday shopping across his State?
Here's what I wrote before about what happens when the tanks roll in against civilians:
When tanks are pictured on the news
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A tank is like a strong man with two hands clutched in a knuckles facing forward fist.
Airpower brings death and destruction but tanks bring capitulation.
Civilians die when the tanks roll in. When tanks are pictured on the news the battle is in the final stages and the game is serious. Slogans are useless when tanks belch metal and fire at exposed flesh.
Soon weapons makers will send flying tanks into battle. Soon there will be no more civilians.
It's time again for Buffy Sainte Marie to sing " Universal soldier". The tanks are about to roll again.
Friday; cloudy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping
Friday; cloudy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
We are equally confused here by people who riot, serial shop and acquire on the day after Thanksgiving, leave their clerk's job in Ohio to head West looking for Gold or Land opportunities across America in the 1830's, or people forced to worry about everything and anything including the cumulative record of the millionaires on the professional sports franchise nearest to their hometown.
It would be timely to secure a source of fresh cold water, lean a few saplings against a tree to provide shelter for the night, gather sticks and igneous rocks for a tripod fire, and hunting or fishing to provide enough sustenance to get safely through the next few days.
Friday should be cold and windy hereabouts although I don't know the Weather forecast. Windy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping most probably.
Perhaps it's time for a walking journey West. Usually I walk about as far as I can go and then turn around and come back to where I started. If I am especially tired after my journey cold water is most appreciated. A blazing fire warms the bones nicely.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
We are equally confused here by people who riot, serial shop and acquire on the day after Thanksgiving, leave their clerk's job in Ohio to head West looking for Gold or Land opportunities across America in the 1830's, or people forced to worry about everything and anything including the cumulative record of the millionaires on the professional sports franchise nearest to their hometown.
It would be timely to secure a source of fresh cold water, lean a few saplings against a tree to provide shelter for the night, gather sticks and igneous rocks for a tripod fire, and hunting or fishing to provide enough sustenance to get safely through the next few days.
Friday should be cold and windy hereabouts although I don't know the Weather forecast. Windy with a chance of rioting or serial shopping most probably.
Perhaps it's time for a walking journey West. Usually I walk about as far as I can go and then turn around and come back to where I started. If I am especially tired after my journey cold water is most appreciated. A blazing fire warms the bones nicely.
Monday, November 24, 2014
Ferguson riots America November, 2014
Ferguson riots America November 2014
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Prefaces:
The result of the verdict from the grand jury were the exact opposite of what anybody had expected.
As every one waited [ 1] for hours and hours for the verdict forces on both sides eyed their foes with suspicion for both sides as is common thought themselves absolutely in the right and their enemy utterly contemptibly wrong. Meanwhile more ambitious souls thought to capitalize on the suffering of all by commercializing the situation and to "milk" events for as long as possible.
At last the verdict was announced with audacity and appropriate pomp.
Was this the day of Judgment or just another cycle in the civilization of America? Did evil have to befall an unwilling victim? How did cause and effect bring about the situation at hand.
The law had spoken and as Pindar says " the law is lord of all".
But as future events were to evidence, the result of the verdict from the grand jury were the exact opposite of what anybody expected. For as was commonly said and thought in those times, now long past, " the revolution will not be televised".
Later we shall revisit further events related to this topic that proceeded as direct result of the Ferguson riots that occurred in America in November of 2014, times long since past and except for this brief History now mostly forgotten.
author
end
[1] of course many persons then as now were more concerned with personal matters than grand issues of country and brethren.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Prefaces:
The result of the verdict from the grand jury were the exact opposite of what anybody had expected.
As every one waited [ 1] for hours and hours for the verdict forces on both sides eyed their foes with suspicion for both sides as is common thought themselves absolutely in the right and their enemy utterly contemptibly wrong. Meanwhile more ambitious souls thought to capitalize on the suffering of all by commercializing the situation and to "milk" events for as long as possible.
At last the verdict was announced with audacity and appropriate pomp.
Was this the day of Judgment or just another cycle in the civilization of America? Did evil have to befall an unwilling victim? How did cause and effect bring about the situation at hand.
The law had spoken and as Pindar says " the law is lord of all".
But as future events were to evidence, the result of the verdict from the grand jury were the exact opposite of what anybody expected. For as was commonly said and thought in those times, now long past, " the revolution will not be televised".
Later we shall revisit further events related to this topic that proceeded as direct result of the Ferguson riots that occurred in America in November of 2014, times long since past and except for this brief History now mostly forgotten.
author
end
[1] of course many persons then as now were more concerned with personal matters than grand issues of country and brethren.
Lilly and friend/part 2
Lilly and friends/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
a repost- a Koan- Where blooms our true nature?
Lilly and friends will be cartoon characters but with a twist. The show will emphasize the feminine element in nature. Lilly is a water lily and can move about the small river her and her friends live in. Using their ingenuity and teamwork Lilly will defeat and foil the catfish who want to eat them and their arch enemies the frogs. Sometimes turtles and fish join Lilly and her friends to battle the frogs.
Water lilies will be especially intuitive. While they will have no super powers they will be capable of sudden rapid movement and can spend long times under water.
Mostly Lilly the chief water lily will spend her time in contemplation, under the warm sun or at night under a bright moon, Lilly will think and be. Sometime each season the lilies will bloom and a beautiful delicate flower will emerge.
Please contact the undersigned to enable Lilly and friends to inhabit network TV this fall. We will make audiences of all ages forget that money grubbing Disney Mouse.
end
Lancy Urchens
agent
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
a repost- a Koan- Where blooms our true nature?
Lilly and friends will be cartoon characters but with a twist. The show will emphasize the feminine element in nature. Lilly is a water lily and can move about the small river her and her friends live in. Using their ingenuity and teamwork Lilly will defeat and foil the catfish who want to eat them and their arch enemies the frogs. Sometimes turtles and fish join Lilly and her friends to battle the frogs.
Water lilies will be especially intuitive. While they will have no super powers they will be capable of sudden rapid movement and can spend long times under water.
Mostly Lilly the chief water lily will spend her time in contemplation, under the warm sun or at night under a bright moon, Lilly will think and be. Sometime each season the lilies will bloom and a beautiful delicate flower will emerge.
Please contact the undersigned to enable Lilly and friends to inhabit network TV this fall. We will make audiences of all ages forget that money grubbing Disney Mouse.
end
Lancy Urchens
agent
Sunday, November 23, 2014
keep your balance; mind your protcol
keep your balance; mind your protocol
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Your flesh begins to crawl and your balance begins to waiver when you lose your legitimacy in the world.
The children in the class you teach all put their hands up at once and waive them aggressively about at the exact moment the Principal enters your classroom for an inspection tour. Your aged car stalls dead on the expressway in right front of the highway patrol officer; as officer walks up to your vehicle his uniform fits exactly, all spit and polish. No one sends you copies of the planning committees memo notes from the Monday morning meeting at work anymore. No one expects you to bring food at Holidays anymore and the potato salad at the fourth of July this decade is bought at Wal-Mart.
Time has moved on for yourself. There are a thousand subjects no one can discuss with you anymore and it's been five years since anyone asked your opinion. Even if you are a surgeon at the Hospital or the crack Collection Attorney in town no one asks what you think about the local pro sports team's prospects or the riots over in St Louis. Your only specialty now days is to notice how tired your daughter-in laws looks at Holiday parties.
You are now a non person, persona non grata. Your status in the society around you is gone. Despite your exemplary credit score and bank reserves you are no longer part of the household statistics. You are just a foot-note to the last two economic cycles.
Children forget your name and your affiliation to those around them. Marketers call you by a nick name in mass mailers about changes in health insurance laws. The DMV asks you if you would like to be known as Junior on your drivers license renewal before they terrify you with the dreaded four year vision and hearing alertness test. If you miss one bleep of light or sound on the left side of the screen your relatives put you in the Nursing facility.
Mind your balance less you break a hip or strain an ankle denoting your economic usefulness is coming to an end. Change the oil filter in your vehicle every five hundred miles of gentle driving less you lose your freedom and mobility. Keep secret cash stashes about the house less you become destitute and dependent on an apathetic audience.
Don't tread on me; I look out from changed eyes askew. My opinion is my own, my status is of no matter. Age has me changed, my philosophy has morphed. Ambulance and tow truck drivers are mine enemy, tax collectors and concerned citizens are mine nuisance.
Be not a burden. Carry your walking stick aggressively. Keep loaded gun in closet. Don't affiliate, don't become categorized. Refuse the senior discount. Go your way alone. Look, notice, understand; help the weak, uphold justice. Speak you mind.
Keep your balance, mind your protocol. Your status is changed.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Your flesh begins to crawl and your balance begins to waiver when you lose your legitimacy in the world.
The children in the class you teach all put their hands up at once and waive them aggressively about at the exact moment the Principal enters your classroom for an inspection tour. Your aged car stalls dead on the expressway in right front of the highway patrol officer; as officer walks up to your vehicle his uniform fits exactly, all spit and polish. No one sends you copies of the planning committees memo notes from the Monday morning meeting at work anymore. No one expects you to bring food at Holidays anymore and the potato salad at the fourth of July this decade is bought at Wal-Mart.
Time has moved on for yourself. There are a thousand subjects no one can discuss with you anymore and it's been five years since anyone asked your opinion. Even if you are a surgeon at the Hospital or the crack Collection Attorney in town no one asks what you think about the local pro sports team's prospects or the riots over in St Louis. Your only specialty now days is to notice how tired your daughter-in laws looks at Holiday parties.
You are now a non person, persona non grata. Your status in the society around you is gone. Despite your exemplary credit score and bank reserves you are no longer part of the household statistics. You are just a foot-note to the last two economic cycles.
Children forget your name and your affiliation to those around them. Marketers call you by a nick name in mass mailers about changes in health insurance laws. The DMV asks you if you would like to be known as Junior on your drivers license renewal before they terrify you with the dreaded four year vision and hearing alertness test. If you miss one bleep of light or sound on the left side of the screen your relatives put you in the Nursing facility.
Mind your balance less you break a hip or strain an ankle denoting your economic usefulness is coming to an end. Change the oil filter in your vehicle every five hundred miles of gentle driving less you lose your freedom and mobility. Keep secret cash stashes about the house less you become destitute and dependent on an apathetic audience.
Don't tread on me; I look out from changed eyes askew. My opinion is my own, my status is of no matter. Age has me changed, my philosophy has morphed. Ambulance and tow truck drivers are mine enemy, tax collectors and concerned citizens are mine nuisance.
Be not a burden. Carry your walking stick aggressively. Keep loaded gun in closet. Don't affiliate, don't become categorized. Refuse the senior discount. Go your way alone. Look, notice, understand; help the weak, uphold justice. Speak you mind.
Keep your balance, mind your protocol. Your status is changed.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
American soldiers; a soldiers fears and concerns, a soldiers duties
American soldiers; a soldiers fears and concerns, a soldiers duties
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Let us pause in our buying, selling, and consumerism this weekend to honor American young soldiers now and before who fought our battles, suffered our injustices and traveled far from home so that we could celebrate a very long Black Friday weekend over the next ten days of economic development and Holiday Thanksgiving Turkey in peace and serenity.
Here is a story I wrote before about an American soldier hitting the beaches at Normandy against a formidable Nazi German enemy and the fears and trepidations our young soldiers faced and what fears formed in his young mind. Be it WW2, the American Civil War or WW1, War is Hell as the Ohio General William T. Sherman said.
Sheila is a screamer
fiction
edward w pritchard
Sheila is a screamer. It's been four months, I know she misses my attention. She required it every day before I was drafted.
I can hear her. Hear her through the iron and metal of this battle ship, three decks down, on my narrow net hammock. Sheila's a screamer and if I am here alone on my swinging hammock she has to be with someone else. It's been four months and I know her needs. Why couldn't she wait for me, she promised.
I am so seasick. It keeps me from getting into a deep sleep and then I startle when I hear Sheila screaming in ecstasy back in Maryland. I finally risked the embarrassment and told Phillips. He says I am scared and stressed, like everyone terrified to land on the beach here at Normandy.
Now we are in the open air. These small boats are dashing toward the shore. Machine gunners await. With the breeze and the noises of battle I can't hear Sheila anymore. I am trying not to think of that. I have to concentrate on a soldiers duties.
end
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Let us pause in our buying, selling, and consumerism this weekend to honor American young soldiers now and before who fought our battles, suffered our injustices and traveled far from home so that we could celebrate a very long Black Friday weekend over the next ten days of economic development and Holiday Thanksgiving Turkey in peace and serenity.
Here is a story I wrote before about an American soldier hitting the beaches at Normandy against a formidable Nazi German enemy and the fears and trepidations our young soldiers faced and what fears formed in his young mind. Be it WW2, the American Civil War or WW1, War is Hell as the Ohio General William T. Sherman said.
Sheila is a screamer
fiction
edward w pritchard
Sheila is a screamer. It's been four months, I know she misses my attention. She required it every day before I was drafted.
I can hear her. Hear her through the iron and metal of this battle ship, three decks down, on my narrow net hammock. Sheila's a screamer and if I am here alone on my swinging hammock she has to be with someone else. It's been four months and I know her needs. Why couldn't she wait for me, she promised.
I am so seasick. It keeps me from getting into a deep sleep and then I startle when I hear Sheila screaming in ecstasy back in Maryland. I finally risked the embarrassment and told Phillips. He says I am scared and stressed, like everyone terrified to land on the beach here at Normandy.
Now we are in the open air. These small boats are dashing toward the shore. Machine gunners await. With the breeze and the noises of battle I can't hear Sheila anymore. I am trying not to think of that. I have to concentrate on a soldiers duties.
end
any place providing sanctuary in a storm is a welcome place to be/ part 2
any place providing sanctuary in a storm is a welcome place to be/ part 2
fiction
Edward w pritchard
Sometimes America seems like one big amusement park to me.
For three days I have been trapped in my truck five miles South of Buffalo New York in a blizzard of a snowstorm that has dropped eight feet of snow on route 90 North on myself in my truck and a few thousand other cars and trucks misfortunate enough to have been driving North at exactly the wrong day and time of hour; in congregation we are stranded in the center of the white out, stalled, snow buried freeway.
Snow thunder rumbles for forty seconds at a time in the flash blizzard twenty miles south of the border with Canada and the windshield of your truck has acquired a permanent frozen mist from proximity to the Canadian side of Niagara Falls.
Snug am I in my truck. It is the sleeper model, with a bed, a refrigerator, a good radio, and a back up battery system. In addition to the heater from the trucks engine I have a small portable electronic heater from Radio shack. I also have a -50 degrees below zero warmth guaranteed parka from Sears, a gift from my daughter in Law. From time to time I exit the warmth of my truck circling my vehicle in shuffled tentative steps, bundled in my Parka, with both gloved hands intimately sliding over the frigid side walls and stalled cold engine of my truck to gather my bearings in the drifted snow threating to bury me permanently on Route 90 North here in my momentary sanctuary. Now and then a newscaster weather person knocks on the door of my truck for updates from me to his station's world audience of how I am temporarily adapting to the snow storm of the decade. Sometimes I hear myself on the Truck radio telling the world audience how I am conforming here in the sanctuary of my warm truck.
Thunder wakes me in my bed here in the back of the truck with a start and I am confused about where I am. Count the rumble of the snow thunder for forty to sixty seconds to determine the direction of the blizzard. It's critical important to me that the storm is moving south to North for my Home is to the south and I worry over my few loved ones. As I wake anxiously in my bed I dream I am floating on a small raft at Sea with a monumental storm coming to drench my Soul and my spirit.
How did I come to be here instead of somewhere else; why am I stuck dead in the middle of Route 90 North a few miles from the Canadian border confronting an epic-Winter snow storm stuck and stalled dead center in the middle of a snow buried expressway? Like so many other random occurrences that developed and happened to me unobserved in spite of it all I am at peace with my fate.
News on the radio South and West from Ferguson near St Louis, Missouri is bad. Rioting is expected sometime this weekend. Police are on guard against protesters condemning the American way of life.
To regain my sense of belonging I listen to the Black Friday sale ads on the radio broadcasting serene bargains a plenty from Canadian and American retailers about to launch ten days of Black Friday bargains as a Holiday gift to North American consumers. Hope restored I plan a few purchases to center me to survive this storm and return to American society as a contented consumer.
Any place that provides sanctuary in a storm is a welcome place to be for me.
Sometimes America seems like one big amusement park to me. For three days I have been trapped in my truck. Rioting is expected sometime this weekend. Any place that provides momentary sanctuary is a welcome place to be for me.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
comes a sad day, comes a special day to some misfortunate parents
comes a sad day, comes a special day to some misfortunate parents
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Life comes with no guarantees. Comes a sad day, comes a special day to some misfortunate parents.
One day some parents have to realize what they have been struggling not to grasp. Their child is different and will always be that way.
The air leaves the room with a rush. The 800 pound elephant in the room is visible and no matter how strong the couple each parent is mournfully alone.
Their child is different and their hopes, dreams and expectations for their child will not become manifest.
Here's what I wrote before about a Mother who finds out from her daughter that her other child is different. Read slowly and feel her pain:
Five Stories in One
The five senses
Touch
June 04, 2007
5:13 PM
fiction
edward w pritchard
Attorney Kate Johnson grabbed her four year old daughter's arm a little too roughly.
Her daughter looked at her calculatingly, like Abraham Lincoln in a Civil War Picture.
" What are you not telling me young lady"
" I don't think I should tell you Mom, Let's wait for Dad"
" Don't patronize me Missy" talking to her daughter like her Grandmother used to talk to her"
Her daughter backed up a step, and said "OK, I'll tell you Mom, but please sit down"
Kate desperately wanted to know what was going on so she complied.
" Mom, Rex listens to the same song over and over and does the same stretching exercise each time he listens to it. "
Kate looked at her daughter afraid to ask the next question, " How many times"
Jessie looked out the window, then back at Kate, looking like her Father, and then softly said to her Mother,
'" about ten thousand times so far"
Sharply " you don't know ten thousand times pirate, a pet name from when Jessie was one"
"One thousand, three thousand twenty seven, 9 thousand six hundred forty two"
"Why does he do it"
Jessie kindly, "I am not sure Mom"
Kate" worried " Why does he exercise"
" he needs to keep moving and no one gets mad at him if he exercises"
Kate " Jessie, How did you find this out about your older brother"
" He asked to borrow money from me to buy another new CD, its starting to skip"
Kate fell across the bed and closed her eyes.
Jessie turned down the volume on the cable TV show she had been watching, switched to a soft music channel, went into her Father's closet and got his old Indian blanket and draped it across her Mother, and went downstairs to make her Mom something in the kitchen.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Life comes with no guarantees. Comes a sad day, comes a special day to some misfortunate parents.
One day some parents have to realize what they have been struggling not to grasp. Their child is different and will always be that way.
The air leaves the room with a rush. The 800 pound elephant in the room is visible and no matter how strong the couple each parent is mournfully alone.
Their child is different and their hopes, dreams and expectations for their child will not become manifest.
Here's what I wrote before about a Mother who finds out from her daughter that her other child is different. Read slowly and feel her pain:
Five Stories in One
The five senses
Touch
June 04, 2007
5:13 PM
fiction
edward w pritchard
Attorney Kate Johnson grabbed her four year old daughter's arm a little too roughly.
Her daughter looked at her calculatingly, like Abraham Lincoln in a Civil War Picture.
" What are you not telling me young lady"
" I don't think I should tell you Mom, Let's wait for Dad"
" Don't patronize me Missy" talking to her daughter like her Grandmother used to talk to her"
Her daughter backed up a step, and said "OK, I'll tell you Mom, but please sit down"
Kate desperately wanted to know what was going on so she complied.
" Mom, Rex listens to the same song over and over and does the same stretching exercise each time he listens to it. "
Kate looked at her daughter afraid to ask the next question, " How many times"
Jessie looked out the window, then back at Kate, looking like her Father, and then softly said to her Mother,
'" about ten thousand times so far"
Sharply " you don't know ten thousand times pirate, a pet name from when Jessie was one"
"One thousand, three thousand twenty seven, 9 thousand six hundred forty two"
"Why does he do it"
Jessie kindly, "I am not sure Mom"
Kate" worried " Why does he exercise"
" he needs to keep moving and no one gets mad at him if he exercises"
Kate " Jessie, How did you find this out about your older brother"
" He asked to borrow money from me to buy another new CD, its starting to skip"
Kate fell across the bed and closed her eyes.
Jessie turned down the volume on the cable TV show she had been watching, switched to a soft music channel, went into her Father's closet and got his old Indian blanket and draped it across her Mother, and went downstairs to make her Mom something in the kitchen.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
bank stocks; sorting out important information for investors
bank stocks; sorting out important information for investors
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
caveat- opinion from author, tongue in cheek stuff
Insidiously and ominously Citigroup [citi] symbol ] [c] announced an important piece of financial information for investors this morning. The news released quietly over tea from the London office of Citi this afternoon there in London [ it's morning here in America and afternoon in London England at the same time] is a harbinger of grave importance to investors and also to human workers, like this author, who are worried about intelligent machines taking over highly skilled jobs once performed by human workers.
Citi announced today from London plans to lay off thirty-five human workers on trading floors in London and across it's platforms but did not disclose but implied that some of those workers would be replaced with machines. Perhaps the workers were laid off because something is askew on the trading floors of London- again, and again for various large US banks as happens from time to time especially late in the stages of a bull market.
It's always difficult to decipher what Citi is up to. They make so many mistakes; at least this investor who once made some money on options in Citicorp in 1989 and used the funds to take a nice vacation remembers many things Citi has done wrong that hurt stockholders in the last 25 years. A reverse split, Victor Pandit, Sandy Weil, and recently hinting about restating some earnings because of unforeseen legal expenses. It's quite confusing to stock holders. When investors in Citi hear the company is going to get " back to basics" it's time to listen up.
Maybe intelligent machines aren't really taking over human workers jobs as floor traders in London. Perhaps this author is really just delusional and it's not intelligent machine taking the trading jobs, it's just computers who are going to do the trading. Or, perhaps the news from London is just an early crack in the mature bull market. A signal to the newly elected republicans to start planning to issue some more tarp funds to US banks sometime in the near future should the need arise.
Listen carefully if you wish to know what the bull market in America is up to. A Whisper from Citicorp in London may just be important to what is going to happen to your 401K over the next 24 months.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
caveat- opinion from author, tongue in cheek stuff
Insidiously and ominously Citigroup [citi] symbol ] [c] announced an important piece of financial information for investors this morning. The news released quietly over tea from the London office of Citi this afternoon there in London [ it's morning here in America and afternoon in London England at the same time] is a harbinger of grave importance to investors and also to human workers, like this author, who are worried about intelligent machines taking over highly skilled jobs once performed by human workers.
Citi announced today from London plans to lay off thirty-five human workers on trading floors in London and across it's platforms but did not disclose but implied that some of those workers would be replaced with machines. Perhaps the workers were laid off because something is askew on the trading floors of London- again, and again for various large US banks as happens from time to time especially late in the stages of a bull market.
It's always difficult to decipher what Citi is up to. They make so many mistakes; at least this investor who once made some money on options in Citicorp in 1989 and used the funds to take a nice vacation remembers many things Citi has done wrong that hurt stockholders in the last 25 years. A reverse split, Victor Pandit, Sandy Weil, and recently hinting about restating some earnings because of unforeseen legal expenses. It's quite confusing to stock holders. When investors in Citi hear the company is going to get " back to basics" it's time to listen up.
Maybe intelligent machines aren't really taking over human workers jobs as floor traders in London. Perhaps this author is really just delusional and it's not intelligent machine taking the trading jobs, it's just computers who are going to do the trading. Or, perhaps the news from London is just an early crack in the mature bull market. A signal to the newly elected republicans to start planning to issue some more tarp funds to US banks sometime in the near future should the need arise.
Listen carefully if you wish to know what the bull market in America is up to. A Whisper from Citicorp in London may just be important to what is going to happen to your 401K over the next 24 months.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
the stock market is long in the tooth today, Nov 18, 2014
the stock market is long in the tooth today, Nov 18, 2014
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Stock prices are at highs but most regular folks and even lots of hedge funds are missing the party. Several hedge funds will close soon, unable to out perform the market. Should someone fortunate enough to have money invested in stocks stay at the party? Or should they be prudent and remove half their profits in stock funds and wait and see if the five year bull market will continue now that the Federal reserve has expressed their intention to stop supporting sub-normal low interest rates by pumping money into the US financial system. QE-3 is done, and with it will go the impetuous that drove the stock market and your 401K funds higher every couple of months. Soon the bull market party will end; at least the bull market party will end for a while which will end this round of fun, hopes and dreams of riches.
Where did all that QE3 money end up? I learned recently that the best acting ETF the last three years was IBB- biotech. Hopes, dreams and some fantasies of phase three trials to combine one or two experimental therapies to cure stubborn cancers or other dreaded diseases. Earlier on this blog I wrote of two bio-techs I follow: DNDN-dendreon, which has a successful $93,000 regiment drug for prostate cancer and INO-Inovio which has some excellent drug prospects as well. DNDN recently filed chapter 11, the bondholders have just about taken out the equity [stock holders]. Equity investors in DNDN lost all their money. Inovio has also lost another big pharma partner, Roche, and INO now will need to raise more money to proceed with phase 2 and three trials of their hot prospect drugs and treatments. Raise money equals dilution to existing shareholders.
What does it mean? The bull market is long in the tooth. Raise some cash and watch the show from your office as you continue to make a good living. As the bull market and the business cycle moves from phase to phase different stocks and assets classes out and under perform. Review your portfolio and take action if called for. No more fantasy, no more delusions of riches. Unfortunately, as I have ruefully found out, hard work is the only path to riches and it's seems to be a treacherous slope.
Here's what I wrote earlier this year on the Bull market. Take heed- do you know where your money is today?
first wall street trading day 2014; and Saint Veronica with the Sudarium
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What should we worship?
Veronica was a creation of legend. When Jesus was carrying the cross to be crucified Saint Veronica offered Christ her veil. The veil became imprinted with the face of Jesus. The picture of Christ on a veil became a popular image and pilgrimage to Rome to view a Sudarium earned one many indulgences in the Middle ages. It was also thought viewing the image protected one from sudden death.
Rather than contemplate Christ suffering horribly on the cross it is softer to view his sad face staring at us across the ages. The Sudarium was a different way of looking at the familiar information central to Christianity. The image presented above by the Master of St. Veronica, Cologne 1400 presents Jesus' sorrow without the brutal edge of the Cross and Crucifixion.
The first day of stock trading in 2014 resulted in a drop in the Dow of 135 points. Is it as January goes so goes the year for Stocks or as January's first trading day so goes the year? If so not a good start to the trading year of 2014. Seventy five percent of advisers seem to be bullish. Was today's losses profit taking from the year end run up, a traditional January effect, or an augury of something more? Nearly every prognosticator expects a bullish year for stocks in 2014.
What are the futures telling you?
What does the year hold for the American stock market? Do we need a new way of looking at the same old information? Can anyone accurately predict the stock market and the future?
Bullish or bearish in 2014. Day by day yesterday's predictions become exposed to reality.
Is the January effect or a first trading day of January prediction model a case of over elaborate data mining? Yale Hirsch, author of " Don't sell stocks on Monday " back in 1986 wrote " while stocks do indeed fluctuate, they do so in well defined, often predictable patterns which reoccur too frequently to be the result of chance or coincidence."
Is all of existence random; explainable as one interaction followed by another ad infinitum? Or is there a underlying pattern to everything, caused and created by who knows what or who knows whom?
What should we worship? Oracles and auguries abound, the future is certain we are told. Who knows what will happen tomorrow? What are the futures telling you?
Who will you worship?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Stock prices are at highs but most regular folks and even lots of hedge funds are missing the party. Several hedge funds will close soon, unable to out perform the market. Should someone fortunate enough to have money invested in stocks stay at the party? Or should they be prudent and remove half their profits in stock funds and wait and see if the five year bull market will continue now that the Federal reserve has expressed their intention to stop supporting sub-normal low interest rates by pumping money into the US financial system. QE-3 is done, and with it will go the impetuous that drove the stock market and your 401K funds higher every couple of months. Soon the bull market party will end; at least the bull market party will end for a while which will end this round of fun, hopes and dreams of riches.
Where did all that QE3 money end up? I learned recently that the best acting ETF the last three years was IBB- biotech. Hopes, dreams and some fantasies of phase three trials to combine one or two experimental therapies to cure stubborn cancers or other dreaded diseases. Earlier on this blog I wrote of two bio-techs I follow: DNDN-dendreon, which has a successful $93,000 regiment drug for prostate cancer and INO-Inovio which has some excellent drug prospects as well. DNDN recently filed chapter 11, the bondholders have just about taken out the equity [stock holders]. Equity investors in DNDN lost all their money. Inovio has also lost another big pharma partner, Roche, and INO now will need to raise more money to proceed with phase 2 and three trials of their hot prospect drugs and treatments. Raise money equals dilution to existing shareholders.
What does it mean? The bull market is long in the tooth. Raise some cash and watch the show from your office as you continue to make a good living. As the bull market and the business cycle moves from phase to phase different stocks and assets classes out and under perform. Review your portfolio and take action if called for. No more fantasy, no more delusions of riches. Unfortunately, as I have ruefully found out, hard work is the only path to riches and it's seems to be a treacherous slope.
Here's what I wrote earlier this year on the Bull market. Take heed- do you know where your money is today?
first wall street trading day 2014; and Saint Veronica with the Sudarium
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
What should we worship?
Veronica was a creation of legend. When Jesus was carrying the cross to be crucified Saint Veronica offered Christ her veil. The veil became imprinted with the face of Jesus. The picture of Christ on a veil became a popular image and pilgrimage to Rome to view a Sudarium earned one many indulgences in the Middle ages. It was also thought viewing the image protected one from sudden death.
Rather than contemplate Christ suffering horribly on the cross it is softer to view his sad face staring at us across the ages. The Sudarium was a different way of looking at the familiar information central to Christianity. The image presented above by the Master of St. Veronica, Cologne 1400 presents Jesus' sorrow without the brutal edge of the Cross and Crucifixion.
The first day of stock trading in 2014 resulted in a drop in the Dow of 135 points. Is it as January goes so goes the year for Stocks or as January's first trading day so goes the year? If so not a good start to the trading year of 2014. Seventy five percent of advisers seem to be bullish. Was today's losses profit taking from the year end run up, a traditional January effect, or an augury of something more? Nearly every prognosticator expects a bullish year for stocks in 2014.
What are the futures telling you?
What does the year hold for the American stock market? Do we need a new way of looking at the same old information? Can anyone accurately predict the stock market and the future?
Bullish or bearish in 2014. Day by day yesterday's predictions become exposed to reality.
Is the January effect or a first trading day of January prediction model a case of over elaborate data mining? Yale Hirsch, author of " Don't sell stocks on Monday " back in 1986 wrote " while stocks do indeed fluctuate, they do so in well defined, often predictable patterns which reoccur too frequently to be the result of chance or coincidence."
Is all of existence random; explainable as one interaction followed by another ad infinitum? Or is there a underlying pattern to everything, caused and created by who knows what or who knows whom?
What should we worship? Oracles and auguries abound, the future is certain we are told. Who knows what will happen tomorrow? What are the futures telling you?
Who will you worship?
Monday, November 17, 2014
Dear friends
Dear friends
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Dear friends pass away. Preoccupied and far away we miss their final thirty years of life.
I was made aware of another passing on of an old friend. A friend of a friend really but a friend never the less. We missed the death notice. Too busy with life were we to miss his suffering.
Now in dreams he returns to say his piece. In dreams a piece of him here and his philosophy as a ten year old there he presents his final performance with me in the audience to hear his summation.
How quickly we move on the path and over the hill through this life. Slow time. With two hands I rotate a circle on the ice covered opaque glass to peer past to childhood friends and at the same time to peer forward into the future of destiny without me and everyone I ever knew or experienced.
Carefully unwrap an antique vase or collectable from a secret hiding place in an old forgotten drawer. We are the antique and by the time the wrapping is removed we become the obituary. Say your piece while still alive and well though no one reads it or no one acknowledges your existence.
Dear friends may winter sunshine keep you warm and may soft gentle snows brilliantly muffle hostile sounds of enlightenment as your footsteps march solitary into the future.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Dear friends pass away. Preoccupied and far away we miss their final thirty years of life.
I was made aware of another passing on of an old friend. A friend of a friend really but a friend never the less. We missed the death notice. Too busy with life were we to miss his suffering.
Now in dreams he returns to say his piece. In dreams a piece of him here and his philosophy as a ten year old there he presents his final performance with me in the audience to hear his summation.
How quickly we move on the path and over the hill through this life. Slow time. With two hands I rotate a circle on the ice covered opaque glass to peer past to childhood friends and at the same time to peer forward into the future of destiny without me and everyone I ever knew or experienced.
Carefully unwrap an antique vase or collectable from a secret hiding place in an old forgotten drawer. We are the antique and by the time the wrapping is removed we become the obituary. Say your piece while still alive and well though no one reads it or no one acknowledges your existence.
Dear friends may winter sunshine keep you warm and may soft gentle snows brilliantly muffle hostile sounds of enlightenment as your footsteps march solitary into the future.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Once upon a time
Once upon a time
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Once upon a time I spent a day in Manhattan at the Metropolitan museum of art. With consummate joy I spent many hours browsing parts of the vast collection of the World's art museum.
Often do I critique American consumerism but the collection of the Metropolitan museum is bought and acquired with the proceeds of capitalism over a century and a half by many famous art collectors and wealthy Americans. Thousands of master works from all times and cultures make up the collection of the Met. More than a museum the Met is a collection of museums under one large series of roofs. Several roofs from earlier original museum buildings are still incorporated into the vast building campus of the Metropolitan and as one views the art and sculptures the light from the New York city sky changes throughout the day, subtly changing the viewing experience of the art lover as he tours the museum.
Once upon a time I spent a day at the Metropolitan Museum of art in Manhattan. Perhaps more than anything I would like to return for an encore look at Madame X, both pictures of the ladies with the parrots, the five Vermeer's and the Velasquez.
Time is short and resources are few; we must husband both if we are to make the most of our desires.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Once upon a time I spent a day in Manhattan at the Metropolitan museum of art. With consummate joy I spent many hours browsing parts of the vast collection of the World's art museum.
Often do I critique American consumerism but the collection of the Metropolitan museum is bought and acquired with the proceeds of capitalism over a century and a half by many famous art collectors and wealthy Americans. Thousands of master works from all times and cultures make up the collection of the Met. More than a museum the Met is a collection of museums under one large series of roofs. Several roofs from earlier original museum buildings are still incorporated into the vast building campus of the Metropolitan and as one views the art and sculptures the light from the New York city sky changes throughout the day, subtly changing the viewing experience of the art lover as he tours the museum.
Once upon a time I spent a day at the Metropolitan Museum of art in Manhattan. Perhaps more than anything I would like to return for an encore look at Madame X, both pictures of the ladies with the parrots, the five Vermeer's and the Velasquez.
Time is short and resources are few; we must husband both if we are to make the most of our desires.
autumn leaves, they fall each November
autumn leaves, they fall each November
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It overwhelms me when the autumn leaves fall. Millions of folded pieces of fading color whisking about the yard calling to be contained and controlled by my invisible neighbors and the faceless people of our hostile town.
In semi darkness each November I dread the fall of the Autumn leaves. My sister gives me chewable vitamin D to combat the vanished Sun. Insidiously the leaves pile about the yard. Sometimes I wake early and try to control the piling leaves but they defeat my intentions as more and more leaves arrive from hostile trees to weigh down vanquished grass; grass which will never the less strain to grow in the semi-darkness of a long dreary Winter. Defeated I slump into the house for caffeine and music.
Holiday music rescue me from the cacophony of noise made by the leaves as they fall and scrape about the cluttered yard. Defeated Sun peep fifteen minutes of sunshine and brightness into my lonesome soul.
My shoulders slump and my feet drag as I bend in attack against the leaves with bent short handled rake.
Cover mine ears; my neighbor jumps on the double quick from his double sized Truck and aggressively pumps up the volume with a Sears deluxe 1000 decimal level leaf blower to order his world.
It's overwhelming when hostile nature ushers in Winter loneliness and darkness with endless flurries of useless, discarded leaves.
end
Consider the leaves, [for] men are like leaves
[for] when leaves into dust are whirled
soon green forests buds millions anew
So come, so pass, all that are born of men
Homer
Iliad book 6 lines 146 to 149
as paraphrased by EWP who doesn't read original Greek
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It overwhelms me when the autumn leaves fall. Millions of folded pieces of fading color whisking about the yard calling to be contained and controlled by my invisible neighbors and the faceless people of our hostile town.
In semi darkness each November I dread the fall of the Autumn leaves. My sister gives me chewable vitamin D to combat the vanished Sun. Insidiously the leaves pile about the yard. Sometimes I wake early and try to control the piling leaves but they defeat my intentions as more and more leaves arrive from hostile trees to weigh down vanquished grass; grass which will never the less strain to grow in the semi-darkness of a long dreary Winter. Defeated I slump into the house for caffeine and music.
Holiday music rescue me from the cacophony of noise made by the leaves as they fall and scrape about the cluttered yard. Defeated Sun peep fifteen minutes of sunshine and brightness into my lonesome soul.
My shoulders slump and my feet drag as I bend in attack against the leaves with bent short handled rake.
Cover mine ears; my neighbor jumps on the double quick from his double sized Truck and aggressively pumps up the volume with a Sears deluxe 1000 decimal level leaf blower to order his world.
It's overwhelming when hostile nature ushers in Winter loneliness and darkness with endless flurries of useless, discarded leaves.
end
Consider the leaves, [for] men are like leaves
[for] when leaves into dust are whirled
soon green forests buds millions anew
So come, so pass, all that are born of men
Homer
Iliad book 6 lines 146 to 149
as paraphrased by EWP who doesn't read original Greek
Friday, November 14, 2014
won the cause but lost the war
won the cause but lost the war
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Old Jed Clampett would sit on the porch of the mansion with his second cousin Jethro and shoot flies off the thick walls surrounding his home. [1] Sometimes old Jed would whittle and sometimes he would jump up suddenly and dance an ancient jig. Jed would take off his hat and cross it across his chest out of respect, whether dancing or whittling when Granny sat with him and whistled " Dixie".
It was good to be in California away from the sadness of the lost cause back home in the Hills of the South. No matter how much oil money Jed had there were still so many times he didn't want to remember and so many places back home he wouldn't go.
Old Jed was a strange old duck. For diversion sometimes he wanted to become a bull fighter and sometimes he wanted to become a legitimate philanthropist. Anything to fill up lost time.
Sometimes old Jed just whistled " Dixie" and tried to forget lost causes as he shot flies from the wall there at the house.
When he slept at night old Jed would dream and dream about "laying around the old shack there in the hills until the rail train came back." [2]
end
[1] Beverly Hillbillies created by Paul Henning a Film ways Pre-sentation
[2] "Rolling in my sweet babies arms" not attributed; traditional American folk music in the public domain.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Old Jed Clampett would sit on the porch of the mansion with his second cousin Jethro and shoot flies off the thick walls surrounding his home. [1] Sometimes old Jed would whittle and sometimes he would jump up suddenly and dance an ancient jig. Jed would take off his hat and cross it across his chest out of respect, whether dancing or whittling when Granny sat with him and whistled " Dixie".
It was good to be in California away from the sadness of the lost cause back home in the Hills of the South. No matter how much oil money Jed had there were still so many times he didn't want to remember and so many places back home he wouldn't go.
Old Jed was a strange old duck. For diversion sometimes he wanted to become a bull fighter and sometimes he wanted to become a legitimate philanthropist. Anything to fill up lost time.
Sometimes old Jed just whistled " Dixie" and tried to forget lost causes as he shot flies from the wall there at the house.
When he slept at night old Jed would dream and dream about "laying around the old shack there in the hills until the rail train came back." [2]
end
[1] Beverly Hillbillies created by Paul Henning a Film ways Pre-sentation
[2] "Rolling in my sweet babies arms" not attributed; traditional American folk music in the public domain.
Wednesday, November 12, 2014
slow time, proceed slowly time/part 2; hurry time, do you think we will ever meet again
slow time, proceed slowly time/part 2; hurry time, do you think we will ever meet again
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Author writes elsewhere about time my sentinel.
Meaning he is separated from whom he loves, opportunity is gone, yet time endures, time proceeds, going nowhere.
Do you think we will ever be together again, elsewhere in time. If things are different. If things start over again, eternal reoccurrence. Going back to the first glance. A time of soft voices and clasping eyes. Without memory of time before and past. Without jarring disruptions to Times flow.
Here's my previous view of time passing, and then after that wishes for another Time, after this where things work out differently. Like after Romeo and Juliet are dead. Will they ever be together again?
slow time, proceed slowly time
fiction
edward w pritchard
I have become aware that everyone and everything has only a limited amount of time. Everyone I love or care about. Inanimate objects I don't know of. Spinning moving galaxies I can't comprehend.
Yet time is not real. It can be proven logically. Something about the A and the B series, Before and after or now and then. Time is not real, but everything comes and goes eventually.
Slow time. No matter what I must now endure, I want my time to last. I am so so curious. Yet a new baby born today, lucky enough to last a long time by human standards has merely 41,610 days.
Some days are notable. Days past are significant worthy to be remembered and relived in memory. Time not real? Time itself seems concrete when remembered and contemplated.
It seems strange that only we people are aware that time is limited for everything. We are like a burning match, soon to be extinguished; why should only us people realize that the combination that causes the match to flare, heat and alight will soon be changed and gone.
end
Hurry Time, I want Time to come again and things to work out differently
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Some days are notable. Days past are significant worthy to be remembered and relived in memory. But time is gone.
I miss my shattered half life.
Hurry Time, I want Time to come again and things to work out differently. Cosmic playwright, rewrite the script, the next Time. I don't like the ending to this drama.
end
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Author writes elsewhere about time my sentinel.
Meaning he is separated from whom he loves, opportunity is gone, yet time endures, time proceeds, going nowhere.
Do you think we will ever be together again, elsewhere in time. If things are different. If things start over again, eternal reoccurrence. Going back to the first glance. A time of soft voices and clasping eyes. Without memory of time before and past. Without jarring disruptions to Times flow.
Here's my previous view of time passing, and then after that wishes for another Time, after this where things work out differently. Like after Romeo and Juliet are dead. Will they ever be together again?
slow time, proceed slowly time
fiction
edward w pritchard
I have become aware that everyone and everything has only a limited amount of time. Everyone I love or care about. Inanimate objects I don't know of. Spinning moving galaxies I can't comprehend.
Yet time is not real. It can be proven logically. Something about the A and the B series, Before and after or now and then. Time is not real, but everything comes and goes eventually.
Slow time. No matter what I must now endure, I want my time to last. I am so so curious. Yet a new baby born today, lucky enough to last a long time by human standards has merely 41,610 days.
Some days are notable. Days past are significant worthy to be remembered and relived in memory. Time not real? Time itself seems concrete when remembered and contemplated.
It seems strange that only we people are aware that time is limited for everything. We are like a burning match, soon to be extinguished; why should only us people realize that the combination that causes the match to flare, heat and alight will soon be changed and gone.
end
Hurry Time, I want Time to come again and things to work out differently
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Some days are notable. Days past are significant worthy to be remembered and relived in memory. But time is gone.
I miss my shattered half life.
Hurry Time, I want Time to come again and things to work out differently. Cosmic playwright, rewrite the script, the next Time. I don't like the ending to this drama.
end
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
How goes the air war in Iraq?
How goes the air war in Iraq?
fiction
edward w pritchard
How goes the air war in Iraq lead by the United States and coalition forces?
Here's what I wrote before on airwar:
fiction
edward w pritchard
How goes the air war in Iraq lead by the United States and coalition forces?
Here's what I wrote before on airwar:
Friday, March 25, 2011
With embarassing regret
With embarrassing regret
fiction
edward w pritchard
Using the blitzkrieg techniques now legendary for their destructive powers we were about to annihilate a very small territory of Poland; for technical reasons going back to the Treaty of Vienna of 1815 still an independent Country in name only in 1939. The powers of devastation were ready to explode and annihilate the museums, artwork, buildings and a small population now waiting on horseback with swords drawn to confront us.
As protocol officer, a redundant position in our military machine, but a remnant of more genteel times I was given task at the eleventh hour of informing our victims that we would be one hour late in starting our belligerent activities. It was the anniversary of the Fuhrer's Mother's Birthday and out of respect to her we would not attack during the hour of 5PM that the Fuhrer and his dear Mother customarily ate dinner when he was a boy. Our carefully prepared battle plans and goals must accommodate the Fuhrer's heart felt affection for his Mother's memories.
I greeted the trembling Generals of our opposition somewhat sheepishly:
"With embarrassing regret the German nation informs you that there will be a one hour delay...
end
fiction
edward w pritchard
Using the blitzkrieg techniques now legendary for their destructive powers we were about to annihilate a very small territory of Poland; for technical reasons going back to the Treaty of Vienna of 1815 still an independent Country in name only in 1939. The powers of devastation were ready to explode and annihilate the museums, artwork, buildings and a small population now waiting on horseback with swords drawn to confront us.
As protocol officer, a redundant position in our military machine, but a remnant of more genteel times I was given task at the eleventh hour of informing our victims that we would be one hour late in starting our belligerent activities. It was the anniversary of the Fuhrer's Mother's Birthday and out of respect to her we would not attack during the hour of 5PM that the Fuhrer and his dear Mother customarily ate dinner when he was a boy. Our carefully prepared battle plans and goals must accommodate the Fuhrer's heart felt affection for his Mother's memories.
I greeted the trembling Generals of our opposition somewhat sheepishly:
"With embarrassing regret the German nation informs you that there will be a one hour delay...
end
alibaba soars; meanwhile where are the dissenters?
Alibaba soars; meanwhile where are the dissenters?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Singles buying day in China. The premise being if you have no love interest in your life you go on line and buy your self something. Since there are so many people in China retail on line volume was voluminous yesterday on single's day.
Alibaba controls 75% of on-line shopping in China and the stock exploded again. Alibaba [ baba] came public at $68, first buy/sell order during IPO at $90, now at $116 [AM premarket]. That's down a bit from yesterdays high price on the stock but the stock is soaring.
China has had an unusual amount of social change in the last fifty years. Google Cultural revolution [here]. Now China embraces Capitalism with open arms [ sort of]. Meanwhile the ruling communist party strains their brains to create new slogans to describe how to merge Communist ideals of social order with capitalism's flights of fancy designed to create a hundred ways to sell stuff to everyone. Every day becomes a new reason to buy stuff which is good for business and creates jobs, surging GDP and stockholder value. Everyone in China will get a new apartment, new job and a latest generation cell phone. All will be well in China and hence the world.
Meanwhile what happens to those lonely singles after their room in their grandmother's basement is full of stuff they don't use and they lose their job or begin to fall behind in the race to the top " American style" to have more money, more things, and more of their lives spent chasing the new emphasis on the material side of reality. Slogans forgotten, Confucius ideas on one's place in the World laughed at as old fashioned.
Here's what I wrote on the occupy wall street movement in America. Occupy wall street and it's ideals and discontents is a movement now sleeping in America but probably not dead. A few rioters in St Louis being the latest generation of critics of the American way of life.
What happens when the disaffected in China get tired of chasing the elusive American dream of owning lots of neat stuff? How will Ablibaba keep selling and growing if the ruling Chinese communist party decides to change the slogans back to the old Confucius ideals of individual sacrifice and communist corporate communal values of less is more.
Here's what I wrote before on the occupy wall street movement in America. America has it's divide between rich and poor, happy and disaffected, lonely and contented, and hopeful and nihilistic.
What changes are coming to the American dream and how will it effect China and of perverse interest to this discontented lonely author, the long term stockholders of Alibaba?
occupy wall street -3 /who is we?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Protest on Wall Street. Meanwhile the stock market roars back today as the old regime continues business as usual.
In a park near Wall Street strange affinities are created among the protesters as the shifting interests of various groups jockey for position and a voice. All the while the zeitgeist modifies and shifts; beyond even the stock markets ability to predict or discount. Who is the new we? What spark will unite change?
end
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Singles buying day in China. The premise being if you have no love interest in your life you go on line and buy your self something. Since there are so many people in China retail on line volume was voluminous yesterday on single's day.
Alibaba controls 75% of on-line shopping in China and the stock exploded again. Alibaba [ baba] came public at $68, first buy/sell order during IPO at $90, now at $116 [AM premarket]. That's down a bit from yesterdays high price on the stock but the stock is soaring.
China has had an unusual amount of social change in the last fifty years. Google Cultural revolution [here]. Now China embraces Capitalism with open arms [ sort of]. Meanwhile the ruling communist party strains their brains to create new slogans to describe how to merge Communist ideals of social order with capitalism's flights of fancy designed to create a hundred ways to sell stuff to everyone. Every day becomes a new reason to buy stuff which is good for business and creates jobs, surging GDP and stockholder value. Everyone in China will get a new apartment, new job and a latest generation cell phone. All will be well in China and hence the world.
Meanwhile what happens to those lonely singles after their room in their grandmother's basement is full of stuff they don't use and they lose their job or begin to fall behind in the race to the top " American style" to have more money, more things, and more of their lives spent chasing the new emphasis on the material side of reality. Slogans forgotten, Confucius ideas on one's place in the World laughed at as old fashioned.
Here's what I wrote on the occupy wall street movement in America. Occupy wall street and it's ideals and discontents is a movement now sleeping in America but probably not dead. A few rioters in St Louis being the latest generation of critics of the American way of life.
What happens when the disaffected in China get tired of chasing the elusive American dream of owning lots of neat stuff? How will Ablibaba keep selling and growing if the ruling Chinese communist party decides to change the slogans back to the old Confucius ideals of individual sacrifice and communist corporate communal values of less is more.
Here's what I wrote before on the occupy wall street movement in America. America has it's divide between rich and poor, happy and disaffected, lonely and contented, and hopeful and nihilistic.
What changes are coming to the American dream and how will it effect China and of perverse interest to this discontented lonely author, the long term stockholders of Alibaba?
occupy wall street -3 /who is we?
fiction
edward w pritchard
Protest on Wall Street. Meanwhile the stock market roars back today as the old regime continues business as usual.
In a park near Wall Street strange affinities are created among the protesters as the shifting interests of various groups jockey for position and a voice. All the while the zeitgeist modifies and shifts; beyond even the stock markets ability to predict or discount. Who is the new we? What spark will unite change?
end
Sunday, November 9, 2014
a Jury of ones peers
A Jury of one's peers
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A Jury of one's peer's. For most of us our Jury is convened at an informal social gathering of family, friends and neighbors. Although we don't commit crimes that would send us to the State prison we are Judged and categorized never the less.
When one is a child one competes with others for grades, achievements in sports, piano lessons and other such things. Later one's spouse, the prestige of one's career, the net worth, type of car, or size of the abode are the measuring tape.
Family, friends and neighbors. Your peers. Let us not Judge. Let us accept others as they are. Extend your circle of neighbors and unmet friends beyond the borders of your little world.
Social interaction with one's peers is difficult at times. Behind every quick look a veiled judgment subtly reveals itself.
Be yourself and say your piece when proper. Everyone has something to contribute.
Here is what I wrote before on the subject:
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.
it's never too late to get with the program
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's ridiculous, true, but I figure it's never to late to get with the program. Me a sixty two year old man about to find and wear a tie dyed jacket.
In protest against the world's sorry condition this week I am going to search the charity thrift stores for a tie dyed jacket for myself to wear as a silent protest against the impending wars and violence breaking out throughout the world.
On top of that thousands of children are storming the border between Mexico and Texas. I honestly don't know how to react to that. Is it like the barbarians in 406AD crossing the frozen Rhine, harbingering of the fall of the Roman empire? Or is it a ploy cooked up by the parties in power here in America to take our mind off a sea of other troubles in our Country?..
Me I am going to put on a tie dyed jacket and return to the confidence and optimism of youth in the 1960's. Like another tie dyed wearing hippy said, " I remember days when it was raining daisies." [1]
1- John Sebastian- " she's a lady"
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
A Jury of one's peer's. For most of us our Jury is convened at an informal social gathering of family, friends and neighbors. Although we don't commit crimes that would send us to the State prison we are Judged and categorized never the less.
When one is a child one competes with others for grades, achievements in sports, piano lessons and other such things. Later one's spouse, the prestige of one's career, the net worth, type of car, or size of the abode are the measuring tape.
Family, friends and neighbors. Your peers. Let us not Judge. Let us accept others as they are. Extend your circle of neighbors and unmet friends beyond the borders of your little world.
Social interaction with one's peers is difficult at times. Behind every quick look a veiled judgment subtly reveals itself.
Be yourself and say your piece when proper. Everyone has something to contribute.
Here is what I wrote before on the subject:
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.
it's never too late to get with the program
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It's ridiculous, true, but I figure it's never to late to get with the program. Me a sixty two year old man about to find and wear a tie dyed jacket.
In protest against the world's sorry condition this week I am going to search the charity thrift stores for a tie dyed jacket for myself to wear as a silent protest against the impending wars and violence breaking out throughout the world.
On top of that thousands of children are storming the border between Mexico and Texas. I honestly don't know how to react to that. Is it like the barbarians in 406AD crossing the frozen Rhine, harbingering of the fall of the Roman empire? Or is it a ploy cooked up by the parties in power here in America to take our mind off a sea of other troubles in our Country?..
Me I am going to put on a tie dyed jacket and return to the confidence and optimism of youth in the 1960's. Like another tie dyed wearing hippy said, " I remember days when it was raining daisies." [1]
1- John Sebastian- " she's a lady"
Friday, November 7, 2014
super stocks; the long and short of getting rich, rich, rich/ part 2
super stocks; the long and short of getting rich, rich, rich/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
More addicting than gambling at the casino is watching super stocks implode. It's like watching gossipy day time TV to me. When the CFO resigns suddenly over accounting or inventory irregularities I grab a bag of microwave popcorn and sit engrossed and watch the stock price of the high priced company involved implode on CNBC financial TV. It's a combination of Judge Judy and a who's the Father daytime reality show to me.
I was a " workout" officer at a bank once you know; I worked with businesses that owed the Bank a lot of money that they had foolishly spent and had no cash flow to pay back. For every successful business enterprise there is a failure or two out there leasing a couple of Lexus' for the top guns of the senior management with money that was supposed to be used to retire debt or repair the fleet of tow motors.
My favorite part of drama of watching high priced stocks implode on financial television is watching one of the young beautiful financial hosts grille the CFO. It's best if the company involved never hired the financial news network to tout their stock back when things were going well. The host always wanted to be a trial lawyer and this is their chance to rake the CFO over the coals. The acting CFO still has a lot of stock in the company involved, although the stock price just dropped from $100 to $30 over just revealed accounting irregularities earlier today at the earnings conference call; the CFO was given ten of thousands of shares at 50 cents a share a few weeks ago when hired to arrange a buy-out or guide the enterprise through workout and bankruptcy. Watch the CFO twist and evade questions, it's like Judge Judy vs. a deadbeat dad on reality television.
Today's implosion is Salix Pharma. [ Slxp]. A Drug company with some creepy inventory issues. Creepy for the shareholders at least. Watch the stock fall 50% on the morning open. The CFO resigned and is in seclusion. Fifty New York law firms have announced an intention to help share holders get a small part of their lost money back for a small and customary fee, plus the usual and customary costs and expenses. Salix was recently a respected and fast growing company, great financial ratios and large potential.
This should be fun. Watch Salix Pharma's stock take a 50% haircut on National financial TV today.
Be like me, since I was a boy in the 1950's I always rooted for the Native Americans in cowboy and Indians movies on afternoon television.
Nowadays, I am passionate about watching the drama and Karma of misguided American businesses falling from grace.
Pity the shareholders of Salix today, But, enjoy the drama of watching the corporation squirm a bit.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
More addicting than gambling at the casino is watching super stocks implode. It's like watching gossipy day time TV to me. When the CFO resigns suddenly over accounting or inventory irregularities I grab a bag of microwave popcorn and sit engrossed and watch the stock price of the high priced company involved implode on CNBC financial TV. It's a combination of Judge Judy and a who's the Father daytime reality show to me.
I was a " workout" officer at a bank once you know; I worked with businesses that owed the Bank a lot of money that they had foolishly spent and had no cash flow to pay back. For every successful business enterprise there is a failure or two out there leasing a couple of Lexus' for the top guns of the senior management with money that was supposed to be used to retire debt or repair the fleet of tow motors.
My favorite part of drama of watching high priced stocks implode on financial television is watching one of the young beautiful financial hosts grille the CFO. It's best if the company involved never hired the financial news network to tout their stock back when things were going well. The host always wanted to be a trial lawyer and this is their chance to rake the CFO over the coals. The acting CFO still has a lot of stock in the company involved, although the stock price just dropped from $100 to $30 over just revealed accounting irregularities earlier today at the earnings conference call; the CFO was given ten of thousands of shares at 50 cents a share a few weeks ago when hired to arrange a buy-out or guide the enterprise through workout and bankruptcy. Watch the CFO twist and evade questions, it's like Judge Judy vs. a deadbeat dad on reality television.
Today's implosion is Salix Pharma. [ Slxp]. A Drug company with some creepy inventory issues. Creepy for the shareholders at least. Watch the stock fall 50% on the morning open. The CFO resigned and is in seclusion. Fifty New York law firms have announced an intention to help share holders get a small part of their lost money back for a small and customary fee, plus the usual and customary costs and expenses. Salix was recently a respected and fast growing company, great financial ratios and large potential.
This should be fun. Watch Salix Pharma's stock take a 50% haircut on National financial TV today.
Be like me, since I was a boy in the 1950's I always rooted for the Native Americans in cowboy and Indians movies on afternoon television.
Nowadays, I am passionate about watching the drama and Karma of misguided American businesses falling from grace.
Pity the shareholders of Salix today, But, enjoy the drama of watching the corporation squirm a bit.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Boola Cramer; I wanted to ask about the performance of the Cleveland Indians manager
Boola Cramer; I wanted to ask about the performance of the Cleveland Indians manager
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Boola Cramer; I wanted to ask about the performance of the Cleveland Indians manager. First off I appreciate your show, sometimes I take notes and all.
I'll get to business. I know you say that a companies success ultimately depends on execution by management. Well the Cleveland Indians, the baseball team are a sort of business. We were about 5oo% this year. Overall weak clutch hitting, great pitching and in my opinion so so management. What do you think of our management.
Cramer " thanks for the kind words on the show" I love Ohio, great chili in Cincinnati. First " don't take the game too seriously" [1]. Let's wait till next year to see how your manager there does with the team. His senior management endorsed his performance for two more years and we will take a wait and see attitude before we Judge him. Meanwhile maybe we could change the team name to something more politically correct. It's just a game you know.
end
[1] " " attributed to Chaucer
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Boola Cramer; I wanted to ask about the performance of the Cleveland Indians manager. First off I appreciate your show, sometimes I take notes and all.
I'll get to business. I know you say that a companies success ultimately depends on execution by management. Well the Cleveland Indians, the baseball team are a sort of business. We were about 5oo% this year. Overall weak clutch hitting, great pitching and in my opinion so so management. What do you think of our management.
Cramer " thanks for the kind words on the show" I love Ohio, great chili in Cincinnati. First " don't take the game too seriously" [1]. Let's wait till next year to see how your manager there does with the team. His senior management endorsed his performance for two more years and we will take a wait and see attitude before we Judge him. Meanwhile maybe we could change the team name to something more politically correct. It's just a game you know.
end
[1] " " attributed to Chaucer
super stocks, the long and short of getting rich, rich, rich
super stocks, the long and short of getting rich, rich, rich
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The legitimate in vogue super stocks making up the indexes slog higher and higher driving the closely watched averages up with them while the other half of stocks begin to deteriorate. No matter.
Does anyone understand the Alibaba [ symbol baba] business model? No matter. Potential business opportunity drives up the stock price allowing the on line retailer to investigate further business opportunities in Media, and other secret market sectors. Success drives success. The [ Baba] insiders need someone to sell to. What happens to [Baba] if China returns to a "stricter " form of Communism? Who cares. The stock is not the company. By then the champagne will have flowed and early investors will have become rich, rich, rich. As a refresher on [baba] about a month ago it came public in an IPO priced at $68 opening trades around $90 and currently trades at $108. Sounds like 1929 bull market to us. Lawyers out there. How would you like to try to unlock information on [baba] for shareholders. The company is from China, members of the communist party occupy the board and the America investors buy some hybrid form of ADR's. No matter. No one ever went broke by being bullish on American business.
For fun watch the stocks of Dendreon [ dndn] and Herbalife [hlf]. It's soap opera wall street style. Watch the shareholder value disappear. Listen to the CFO twist his words. Hear the bag holders cry and hope for a buyout at last years stock price. It's more interesting than day time TV.
What's in your portfolio? Do you know what your money is doing today?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The legitimate in vogue super stocks making up the indexes slog higher and higher driving the closely watched averages up with them while the other half of stocks begin to deteriorate. No matter.
Does anyone understand the Alibaba [ symbol baba] business model? No matter. Potential business opportunity drives up the stock price allowing the on line retailer to investigate further business opportunities in Media, and other secret market sectors. Success drives success. The [ Baba] insiders need someone to sell to. What happens to [Baba] if China returns to a "stricter " form of Communism? Who cares. The stock is not the company. By then the champagne will have flowed and early investors will have become rich, rich, rich. As a refresher on [baba] about a month ago it came public in an IPO priced at $68 opening trades around $90 and currently trades at $108. Sounds like 1929 bull market to us. Lawyers out there. How would you like to try to unlock information on [baba] for shareholders. The company is from China, members of the communist party occupy the board and the America investors buy some hybrid form of ADR's. No matter. No one ever went broke by being bullish on American business.
For fun watch the stocks of Dendreon [ dndn] and Herbalife [hlf]. It's soap opera wall street style. Watch the shareholder value disappear. Listen to the CFO twist his words. Hear the bag holders cry and hope for a buyout at last years stock price. It's more interesting than day time TV.
What's in your portfolio? Do you know what your money is doing today?
enigma; President Obama the good emperor and human behavior
enigma; President Obama the good emperor and human behavior
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Pity anyone forced by circumstance to attempt to understand human behavior. A trillion-trillion atoms collided over a hundred million years to produce one mind and unusual circumstance bounces and sways the final outcome. A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Watched President Obama talk and answer questions on what he will do in his final two years in office to prevent gridlock in Washington with the Republican majority.
Perhaps Michelle Obama should have answered a few questions on " has President Obama's behavior changed lately?"
What is the enigma of " President Obama the good Emperor and human behavior?"
Ten or twenty years from now President Obama and Michelle Obama will be sitting off somewhere having coffee, pretty much forgotten, like the two former Bush President's and wives, ex president Carter and wife and Bill Clinton and Hillary. Long after most of their influence has dried up and all books have been published and all highly paid speech giving tours have lapsed; will anyone one ask the ex-President his opinion on anything Important?
Will Michelle Obama understand her Husband after the whirlwind of Presidential office is long over?
President Obama came to Presidential office as a " breeze of fresh wind to American Politics" [1]. Where will the breeze take America in the next two years? As they said a few years ago the last time I was at Sunday preaching " Pray for the wisdom of our elected leaders."
Speaking of Michelle Obama, she is obviously an intelligent woman. We wonder now if anyone asks her opinion on anything anymore or if she has to spend her days walking on eggshells around Washington denying that a few eight hundred pound elephants are about the White House. I wonder what Michelle Obama thinks of Politics now? Someone should ask her " a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
Perhaps all Ex-emperor's say " Politics is a terrible business, I am sorry I learned it."
end
[1] " breeze of fresh wind " attributed ed Pritchard opinionated person.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Pity anyone forced by circumstance to attempt to understand human behavior. A trillion-trillion atoms collided over a hundred million years to produce one mind and unusual circumstance bounces and sways the final outcome. A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Watched President Obama talk and answer questions on what he will do in his final two years in office to prevent gridlock in Washington with the Republican majority.
Perhaps Michelle Obama should have answered a few questions on " has President Obama's behavior changed lately?"
What is the enigma of " President Obama the good Emperor and human behavior?"
Ten or twenty years from now President Obama and Michelle Obama will be sitting off somewhere having coffee, pretty much forgotten, like the two former Bush President's and wives, ex president Carter and wife and Bill Clinton and Hillary. Long after most of their influence has dried up and all books have been published and all highly paid speech giving tours have lapsed; will anyone one ask the ex-President his opinion on anything Important?
Will Michelle Obama understand her Husband after the whirlwind of Presidential office is long over?
President Obama came to Presidential office as a " breeze of fresh wind to American Politics" [1]. Where will the breeze take America in the next two years? As they said a few years ago the last time I was at Sunday preaching " Pray for the wisdom of our elected leaders."
Speaking of Michelle Obama, she is obviously an intelligent woman. We wonder now if anyone asks her opinion on anything anymore or if she has to spend her days walking on eggshells around Washington denying that a few eight hundred pound elephants are about the White House. I wonder what Michelle Obama thinks of Politics now? Someone should ask her " a mind is a terrible thing to waste."
Perhaps all Ex-emperor's say " Politics is a terrible business, I am sorry I learned it."
end
[1] " breeze of fresh wind " attributed ed Pritchard opinionated person.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
did you vote? Free will or determinism; do you have a choice/ part 2
did you vote? free will or determinism; do you have a choice?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Republicans control the House and Senate we hear; what sort of mean spirit policies will these guys stumble into in the name of individual freedoms and responsibilities? It's like exercise advice from a very self centered self righteous sort who pours chunked magnesium and slivered zinc over their organic oatmeal to start their day; when it comes to common sense they just don't get it. The other guys in the opposite political group here in America are the same but at first a little more subtle and maybe well meaning for a short initial distance.
Should you be involved in Politics once you have seen two or three candidates you admire fall from grace by displaying blatant motivation in the political arena to make themselves, family and friends wealthy? It's the same thing over and over.
Ancient Greek Epicurus and followers shunned politics. Most likely for the same reasons that many folks do today. Until modern candidates become ethical men and women before they seek office, who ever is elected will look to public office as an opportunity to rev up the stakes in their race to acquire and accumulate money and power for themselves and their followers.
Ethics; only a fool would discuss it. Political office; it's the ideal marketplace for those who are driven to seek and acquire wealth and power should they have a knack for self dealings and duplicity.
Walk about your gardens with friends and discuss philosophy and enjoy the breeze and sunshine. Turn a blind eye to small sins of those in elected office. Nothing is new under the Sun; when it comes to voting, do you really have a choice?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Republicans control the House and Senate we hear; what sort of mean spirit policies will these guys stumble into in the name of individual freedoms and responsibilities? It's like exercise advice from a very self centered self righteous sort who pours chunked magnesium and slivered zinc over their organic oatmeal to start their day; when it comes to common sense they just don't get it. The other guys in the opposite political group here in America are the same but at first a little more subtle and maybe well meaning for a short initial distance.
Should you be involved in Politics once you have seen two or three candidates you admire fall from grace by displaying blatant motivation in the political arena to make themselves, family and friends wealthy? It's the same thing over and over.
Ancient Greek Epicurus and followers shunned politics. Most likely for the same reasons that many folks do today. Until modern candidates become ethical men and women before they seek office, who ever is elected will look to public office as an opportunity to rev up the stakes in their race to acquire and accumulate money and power for themselves and their followers.
Ethics; only a fool would discuss it. Political office; it's the ideal marketplace for those who are driven to seek and acquire wealth and power should they have a knack for self dealings and duplicity.
Walk about your gardens with friends and discuss philosophy and enjoy the breeze and sunshine. Turn a blind eye to small sins of those in elected office. Nothing is new under the Sun; when it comes to voting, do you really have a choice?
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
free will or determinism; do you have a choice?
free will or determinism; do you have choice?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Secretly everyone is involved with a personal quest to unravel why they are here, where they are going and when will it be over for them. Denial eventually is not an option, busyness will not drown out the roar of the significant questions and no companion or relationship can comfort you in your quest to understand ultimate questions.
Pity the seeker who has declared God dead; he bears the responsibility of personal Time's end alone and naked.
Admire the seeker who embraces and accepts authentically Epicureanism, eat drink and be merry and a few other higher philosophical virtues incidental to the epicurean outlook; Epicureanism is a fine way to pass the journey until the lights go out for good. In time perhaps one's Epicurean outlook will deepen to include freedom from fear and appreciation of their [own] absence of pain during their journey.
Hopefully and mercifully, said dead God mentioned above, or meticulous and impersonal science or indifferent hap grants one a long and successful life before ultimate questions begin to trouble them. Comfort and exalt a strong person who is engulfed in coming to grips with their personal destiny. May they bear the uncertainty like a true Stoic. Noble, without pity or remorse.
Here's what I wrote earlier on the subject of free will or determinism; do you have a choice? The choice itself is why you are here, where are you going next and when is it over, if ever. How will you pass your time during your personal quest through this lifetime, here and now. There is so much to do, so many choices so few certainties: Quoting Chaucer again we mustn't take the game too seriously, so it is a few minutes till the dawning of another day here in Ohio, hopefully we will have some sunshine and much petty busyness will follow me throughout another day distracting me in my quest for significance.
the things I owned
fiction
edward w pritchard
The things that I owned were organic whatever there intended use or purpose. Beautiful and intricate to look at but not durable or practical. The parts of the various apparatuses would run to one side if tilted and everything seemed to be alive. Colors were remarkable but unnecessary to the functionality of the utility of the things I owned and possessed. To make matters worse I had become enamored with the beauty of the things I owned.
end
More to come:
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Secretly everyone is involved with a personal quest to unravel why they are here, where they are going and when will it be over for them. Denial eventually is not an option, busyness will not drown out the roar of the significant questions and no companion or relationship can comfort you in your quest to understand ultimate questions.
Pity the seeker who has declared God dead; he bears the responsibility of personal Time's end alone and naked.
Admire the seeker who embraces and accepts authentically Epicureanism, eat drink and be merry and a few other higher philosophical virtues incidental to the epicurean outlook; Epicureanism is a fine way to pass the journey until the lights go out for good. In time perhaps one's Epicurean outlook will deepen to include freedom from fear and appreciation of their [own] absence of pain during their journey.
Hopefully and mercifully, said dead God mentioned above, or meticulous and impersonal science or indifferent hap grants one a long and successful life before ultimate questions begin to trouble them. Comfort and exalt a strong person who is engulfed in coming to grips with their personal destiny. May they bear the uncertainty like a true Stoic. Noble, without pity or remorse.
Here's what I wrote earlier on the subject of free will or determinism; do you have a choice? The choice itself is why you are here, where are you going next and when is it over, if ever. How will you pass your time during your personal quest through this lifetime, here and now. There is so much to do, so many choices so few certainties: Quoting Chaucer again we mustn't take the game too seriously, so it is a few minutes till the dawning of another day here in Ohio, hopefully we will have some sunshine and much petty busyness will follow me throughout another day distracting me in my quest for significance.
the things I owned
fiction
edward w pritchard
The things that I owned were organic whatever there intended use or purpose. Beautiful and intricate to look at but not durable or practical. The parts of the various apparatuses would run to one side if tilted and everything seemed to be alive. Colors were remarkable but unnecessary to the functionality of the utility of the things I owned and possessed. To make matters worse I had become enamored with the beauty of the things I owned.
end
More to come:
Monday, November 3, 2014
the Lust of Nationalism
the Lust of Nationalism
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Rather than group great numbers of people into Countries by ethnic factors, language or facial feature it would make more sense to group people by birth order.
All first born would live in Asia, second born in South America, third born in America etc. until everyone had a County to live in. After the initial shuffle and confusion things would work out fine with less wars over nationalism, religious confusion and misinterpretation and gap between haves and have nots and other social factors.
Not Satiated but redirected the Lust of nationalism would die out and peace would whisper in all the lands.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Rather than group great numbers of people into Countries by ethnic factors, language or facial feature it would make more sense to group people by birth order.
All first born would live in Asia, second born in South America, third born in America etc. until everyone had a County to live in. After the initial shuffle and confusion things would work out fine with less wars over nationalism, religious confusion and misinterpretation and gap between haves and have nots and other social factors.
Not Satiated but redirected the Lust of nationalism would die out and peace would whisper in all the lands.
if gold shall rust what will iron do? Neitzsche in a nutshell/ part 2
if gold shall what will iron do? Nietzsche in a nutshell/ part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The higher the duty of the enactor the more onerous the sin. Such is the premise behind Dante's numbered circles of hell with more terrifying punishments for sins committed by those who conspire but have special status or duty not to do so.
But are all conspirators capable of ethical behavior? Is eating too much a sin? Is buying, selling, hoarding and keeping sin or sad malady? Is display of animal behavior sin or primordial lust?
Poet Chaucer, keen Judge of human behavior asks if gold shall rust what will iron do?
Ethics texts resale badly at used book stores. Ethics are not taught in Public schools and Bank examiners do not have surprise inspections to members of the Federal reserve network for Ethical behavior. Most don't go to church and no one listens to sermons anyway and Preacher's don't want too upset the Flocks by disturbing their eating, buying and selling and hoarding anymore.
Only a fool thinks of ethics. In the past the money lender made his loans at onerous interest rates and just prior to death arranged to build a temple or stupa as remorse tax against his sinning. Was the slate clean, or was he headed for a numbered circle in Hell for eternity?
Ethics, it's the forgotten science of our times.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The higher the duty of the enactor the more onerous the sin. Such is the premise behind Dante's numbered circles of hell with more terrifying punishments for sins committed by those who conspire but have special status or duty not to do so.
But are all conspirators capable of ethical behavior? Is eating too much a sin? Is buying, selling, hoarding and keeping sin or sad malady? Is display of animal behavior sin or primordial lust?
Poet Chaucer, keen Judge of human behavior asks if gold shall rust what will iron do?
Ethics texts resale badly at used book stores. Ethics are not taught in Public schools and Bank examiners do not have surprise inspections to members of the Federal reserve network for Ethical behavior. Most don't go to church and no one listens to sermons anyway and Preacher's don't want too upset the Flocks by disturbing their eating, buying and selling and hoarding anymore.
Only a fool thinks of ethics. In the past the money lender made his loans at onerous interest rates and just prior to death arranged to build a temple or stupa as remorse tax against his sinning. Was the slate clean, or was he headed for a numbered circle in Hell for eternity?
Ethics, it's the forgotten science of our times.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Nietzsche in a nutshell; the cowboy and the Great Lady
Nietzsche in a nutshell; the cowboy and the Great Lady
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The cowboy sees the world as it should be and although he is always becoming, he never changes. Incapable of personal growth is the cowboy, stuck in his own stories and aphorisms, incorrigible rides the cowboy through life alone dreaming of the Great lady.
The Great lady organizes and manipulates the world and accomplishes life affirmation by purchasing, ordering and stacking the items in her part of the universe.
The cowboy throws the chicken, onions, rice, water and noodles into one pot for a long boil and waits till tomorrow supper to clean the pan after todays eating. Under the stars, the cowboy reclines solo wishing he had learned to play the guitar to serenade the invisible horses that he protects in principle while he listens in the dark for the music of the spheres as imaginary Time spins backwards across the skies.
The Great Lady never quite eradicates the cowboy, act one scene one, over and over. Somewhere stacked about the nest is a dusty guitar once played for the cowboy, masquerading as a Pirate, over a tete a tete of boiled cabbage greens. Wrong cowboy, right pirate; Great lady-lonely cowboy. Crazy cowboy, invisible horses sans protector, stalled cart, silent Lady.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
The cowboy sees the world as it should be and although he is always becoming, he never changes. Incapable of personal growth is the cowboy, stuck in his own stories and aphorisms, incorrigible rides the cowboy through life alone dreaming of the Great lady.
The Great lady organizes and manipulates the world and accomplishes life affirmation by purchasing, ordering and stacking the items in her part of the universe.
The cowboy throws the chicken, onions, rice, water and noodles into one pot for a long boil and waits till tomorrow supper to clean the pan after todays eating. Under the stars, the cowboy reclines solo wishing he had learned to play the guitar to serenade the invisible horses that he protects in principle while he listens in the dark for the music of the spheres as imaginary Time spins backwards across the skies.
The Great Lady never quite eradicates the cowboy, act one scene one, over and over. Somewhere stacked about the nest is a dusty guitar once played for the cowboy, masquerading as a Pirate, over a tete a tete of boiled cabbage greens. Wrong cowboy, right pirate; Great lady-lonely cowboy. Crazy cowboy, invisible horses sans protector, stalled cart, silent Lady.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
we so secretly envy people who communicate
we so secretly envy people who communicate
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It seems so simple. Natural, authentic, that which brings about trust between a couple. As natural as walking to one with two good legs and plenty of balance.
We talk of simple communication. When it comes to couples we so secretly envy people who communicate. Where did we go wrong? When did it happen?
Here's what I wrote before on the subject:
argument
fiction
edward w pritchard
She and me. Final argument. She choose brass me plastic.
We talk of fixtures. Fixtures to swirl water down a drain. In a kitchen, fixtures to chase away the water that wasn't all used.
Brass will last, shine bright, function as intended and be there when the sink is gone. Plastic carries away the water.
Voices raised, no consensus possible, war by other means.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
It seems so simple. Natural, authentic, that which brings about trust between a couple. As natural as walking to one with two good legs and plenty of balance.
We talk of simple communication. When it comes to couples we so secretly envy people who communicate. Where did we go wrong? When did it happen?
Here's what I wrote before on the subject:
argument
fiction
edward w pritchard
She and me. Final argument. She choose brass me plastic.
We talk of fixtures. Fixtures to swirl water down a drain. In a kitchen, fixtures to chase away the water that wasn't all used.
Brass will last, shine bright, function as intended and be there when the sink is gone. Plastic carries away the water.
Voices raised, no consensus possible, war by other means.
the current version of myself
the current version of myself
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Freed from the marble that has constrained my spirit the current version of myself meanders down the path toward reunification with my best self.
At peace one thousand connections dissolve.
Eyes sky ward I am reborn, motionless I am becalmed.
With empty hands I reap my bounty, with steady heart day and night slips into tomorrows.
Listen, hear the silence of bliss.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Freed from the marble that has constrained my spirit the current version of myself meanders down the path toward reunification with my best self.
At peace one thousand connections dissolve.
Eyes sky ward I am reborn, motionless I am becalmed.
With empty hands I reap my bounty, with steady heart day and night slips into tomorrows.
Listen, hear the silence of bliss.
How much will you pay for your share of America's great wealth?
How much will you pay for your share of America's great wealth?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As you know this author is more than lazy. Walk twenty miles for exercise would I, but for months at a time will he let the lawn grow long and the leaves pile high. Then, for hours and hours will I like a Hebrew slave in the scorching Sun mow, rake and plow by hand at said Daughter's ranch and then enjoy the exhaustion and write and write about it to my invisible audience.
It could be very tedious to those who once cared for myself, realize now do I, so heretofore am I sorry and contrite to be sure. If over I had to redo would I be so different, industrious and steadfast in pursuit of the proper American bounty. Now that I understand the relationship between junk bond prices, penny stocks and rising interest rates I have no one to buy anything for, so though I read and understand the " Barron's and "Wall Street Journal" and CNBC expert financial guests small of fortune am I and little concerned will I be of same.
It has always been a conundrum to me; this price we pay for our share of America's great wealth. Once I spent long hours invisibly chained to a Poker table to " earn" respectable sums of winnings to purchase America's material bounty of lamps, jewelry and chaise lounges. Meanwhile for myself content was I with one used book on an obscure Roman Philosopher and a few minutes to browse said book in the lap of luxury created by the hard toil of others.
Below are a few things I wrote before on this subject as warning to others concerning the enticements of American materialism, cursed hard work, and reaping a proper harvest in life. More on this later as well under " part two of this same title, later in blog.
the duty of a poet
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Endure infamy in silence,
reveal not personal information.
Smile at barbed innuendo and left handed compliments from intractable friends.
Look to nature for solace.
Keep revelation to weeping boughs,
bursting galaxies or remorseful suns.
The duty of a poet is to praise others
not to leak persona confessions.
my Ode to Duty/ Part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
With crystal clarity I see what to do. It was right there in front of me all along.
Like a soldier slowly climbing out of his trench I lightly lift weapons and head across no man's land more curious for what happens next than concerned or afraid.
Ten million things interact and to proceed I plan to cut the Gordian knot at the center binding me to extinct paths and positions with my glistening dagger.
Watch me soar World. With forgotten wings I take to the sky. All clear below, gliding toward the future goes I.
end
Here is what I wrote before in part 1
my ode to duty
fiction
edward w pritchard
Duty you abandoned me and you were all that kept me going. I know I know I was supposed to forever chase you. Like a panting school boy with amorous plans. Forever pursuing. Never to reach the climax.
Duty whisper to me again, I will march toward your voice I promise. I am just a little lost, off the path. Dangle your enticements just to get me marching again.
the road less traveled by
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Rushing, life unexamined, events intervening, thirsty, hungry and tired at eighteen I didn't pause at the fork of the road to consider implications of direction,
and sauntered forward did I.
Later;
sensing things amiss I carefully sorted dreams,
sitting alone
realized some things did I.
" road less traveled by" from Walt Whitman [public domain]
play the cards as dealt and be grateful with the pot as won
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
it's Sunday morning and time for a sermon:
So many people of action are always trying to trade up, never grateful or satisfied with what they have. A yearning exists in some folks to have more, look around for better and to be never satisfied. It can be an admirable trait to yearn for better or it can get people in silent trouble.
A good wife who prepares the supper and buys birthday presents for the grand children is not enough for some Men. The wife is not supposed to get older and is shunned if she has gained fifteen pounds over the last decade.
Likewise a wife neglects the fact that her husband who falls asleep on the couch every night at eight thirty snoring has never once hit her in twenty years of marriage. He has a few other good points as well besides not striking her but she is silently dis-satisfied never the less.
It's an American malady to not be satisfied with the cards God has dealt us.
Look at it this way: in so many more ways things could be a lot, lot worse for you. Married folks, accept your partner as they are. Your situation could be so much worse. Wives, your husband could strike you with his open hand occasionally and husbands your wife could change from the sweet girl you courted into a woman who talks too loud.
The marriage vows said for richer or poorer, for better or worse; Imagine for a moment how much worse off you would be now if your spouse had Alzheimer's disease today and you had to care for them. That would be much worse than having a husband who snores or a wife who talks a little too loud at times.
Is Hawkeye's Father the retired Doctor still living alone up in Maine?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Is Hawkeye's Father the retired Doctor still living alone up in Maine? If so I hope his son Hawkeye Pierce the character from MASH goes home to Crabapple Cove and visits him regularly.
Older people living alone have to strain their extrovert-ism to make new friends and it's hard for anyone to develop new interests after a certain age. Being alone can be hard and any little thing can get to be overwhelming. Sometimes it's seems like no one has your back.
Hawkeye could ask one of the neighbors there in Maine to borrow a small row boat and he and his Dad could go fishing. While out in the boat Hawkeye could clap his hands over his ears when his Dad asks him "when are you going to find a nice girl and get married" for the third time. Then the two Doctors could talk about serious things a bit like innovations coming in the treatment of hypertension or the senior Doctor Pierce's own health issues. Lastly when they were laughing because the fish weren't biting and the boat was leaking Hawk could tell his Dad something he remembered about his Mom.
After fishing the two pals could stop at the diner and have home fries and poached eggs like they did when Hawk was kid. At the diner both Doc's could flirt with the same waitress for fun and try to outdo each other with the tip.
After they got back to the house Hawkeye could go up the ladder and fix the birdhouse his Mom had put in the tree a long time ago before she passed on.
end
.
Note-MASH characters and setting created by Richard Hooker in "Mash; A novel about three army Doctors" adapted for television by Larry Gelbart.
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
As you know this author is more than lazy. Walk twenty miles for exercise would I, but for months at a time will he let the lawn grow long and the leaves pile high. Then, for hours and hours will I like a Hebrew slave in the scorching Sun mow, rake and plow by hand at said Daughter's ranch and then enjoy the exhaustion and write and write about it to my invisible audience.
It could be very tedious to those who once cared for myself, realize now do I, so heretofore am I sorry and contrite to be sure. If over I had to redo would I be so different, industrious and steadfast in pursuit of the proper American bounty. Now that I understand the relationship between junk bond prices, penny stocks and rising interest rates I have no one to buy anything for, so though I read and understand the " Barron's and "Wall Street Journal" and CNBC expert financial guests small of fortune am I and little concerned will I be of same.
It has always been a conundrum to me; this price we pay for our share of America's great wealth. Once I spent long hours invisibly chained to a Poker table to " earn" respectable sums of winnings to purchase America's material bounty of lamps, jewelry and chaise lounges. Meanwhile for myself content was I with one used book on an obscure Roman Philosopher and a few minutes to browse said book in the lap of luxury created by the hard toil of others.
Below are a few things I wrote before on this subject as warning to others concerning the enticements of American materialism, cursed hard work, and reaping a proper harvest in life. More on this later as well under " part two of this same title, later in blog.
the duty of a poet
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Endure infamy in silence,
reveal not personal information.
Smile at barbed innuendo and left handed compliments from intractable friends.
Look to nature for solace.
Keep revelation to weeping boughs,
bursting galaxies or remorseful suns.
The duty of a poet is to praise others
not to leak persona confessions.
my Ode to Duty/ Part 2
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
With crystal clarity I see what to do. It was right there in front of me all along.
Like a soldier slowly climbing out of his trench I lightly lift weapons and head across no man's land more curious for what happens next than concerned or afraid.
Ten million things interact and to proceed I plan to cut the Gordian knot at the center binding me to extinct paths and positions with my glistening dagger.
Watch me soar World. With forgotten wings I take to the sky. All clear below, gliding toward the future goes I.
end
Here is what I wrote before in part 1
my ode to duty
fiction
edward w pritchard
Duty you abandoned me and you were all that kept me going. I know I know I was supposed to forever chase you. Like a panting school boy with amorous plans. Forever pursuing. Never to reach the climax.
Duty whisper to me again, I will march toward your voice I promise. I am just a little lost, off the path. Dangle your enticements just to get me marching again.
the road less traveled by
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Rushing, life unexamined, events intervening, thirsty, hungry and tired at eighteen I didn't pause at the fork of the road to consider implications of direction,
and sauntered forward did I.
Later;
sensing things amiss I carefully sorted dreams,
sitting alone
realized some things did I.
" road less traveled by" from Walt Whitman [public domain]
play the cards as dealt and be grateful with the pot as won
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
it's Sunday morning and time for a sermon:
So many people of action are always trying to trade up, never grateful or satisfied with what they have. A yearning exists in some folks to have more, look around for better and to be never satisfied. It can be an admirable trait to yearn for better or it can get people in silent trouble.
A good wife who prepares the supper and buys birthday presents for the grand children is not enough for some Men. The wife is not supposed to get older and is shunned if she has gained fifteen pounds over the last decade.
Likewise a wife neglects the fact that her husband who falls asleep on the couch every night at eight thirty snoring has never once hit her in twenty years of marriage. He has a few other good points as well besides not striking her but she is silently dis-satisfied never the less.
It's an American malady to not be satisfied with the cards God has dealt us.
Look at it this way: in so many more ways things could be a lot, lot worse for you. Married folks, accept your partner as they are. Your situation could be so much worse. Wives, your husband could strike you with his open hand occasionally and husbands your wife could change from the sweet girl you courted into a woman who talks too loud.
The marriage vows said for richer or poorer, for better or worse; Imagine for a moment how much worse off you would be now if your spouse had Alzheimer's disease today and you had to care for them. That would be much worse than having a husband who snores or a wife who talks a little too loud at times.
Is Hawkeye's Father the retired Doctor still living alone up in Maine?
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
Is Hawkeye's Father the retired Doctor still living alone up in Maine? If so I hope his son Hawkeye Pierce the character from MASH goes home to Crabapple Cove and visits him regularly.
Older people living alone have to strain their extrovert-ism to make new friends and it's hard for anyone to develop new interests after a certain age. Being alone can be hard and any little thing can get to be overwhelming. Sometimes it's seems like no one has your back.
Hawkeye could ask one of the neighbors there in Maine to borrow a small row boat and he and his Dad could go fishing. While out in the boat Hawkeye could clap his hands over his ears when his Dad asks him "when are you going to find a nice girl and get married" for the third time. Then the two Doctors could talk about serious things a bit like innovations coming in the treatment of hypertension or the senior Doctor Pierce's own health issues. Lastly when they were laughing because the fish weren't biting and the boat was leaking Hawk could tell his Dad something he remembered about his Mom.
After fishing the two pals could stop at the diner and have home fries and poached eggs like they did when Hawk was kid. At the diner both Doc's could flirt with the same waitress for fun and try to outdo each other with the tip.
After they got back to the house Hawkeye could go up the ladder and fix the birdhouse his Mom had put in the tree a long time ago before she passed on.
end
.
Note-MASH characters and setting created by Richard Hooker in "Mash; A novel about three army Doctors" adapted for television by Larry Gelbart.
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