the value of a unique and timely investment idea

the value of a unique and timely investment idea

fiction
edward w pritchard


Rockets will take you to Mars but once you get there, in the near future you will move about the planet by trains.

Once the initial outlays for track, excavation and bridges are completed a Corporation running trains on Mars will have a high ROA generating large returns to original investors.

Get in now and get in early to enjoy large returns investing in infrastructure projects on the planet Mars. One day hundreds of persons will need to move about the planet Mars and trains look to be the most efficient means of locomotion about the planet.

The value of a unique and timely investment idea seems far off initially, but in time those who missed the " boat" come to regret their timidity. Act now. Trains on Mars, it's the future.

watching new baby, time lapse; gods they were

watching new baby, time lapse, gods they were

fiction
edward w pritchard

Watching  new Baby learn sensation, emotion and sensibilities week to week and month to month as his swinging arms co-ordinate and his tentative eyes become confident in an elaborate blossoming of possibility and potential creating a tiny God.

In Time lapse little baby becomes Human and aware. What a miracle, what an event. Subtle perfection, rebirth of the species, continuation of the family tree. In Majesty a tiny god reaches skyward with thumb and forefinger lightly touching, searching his destiny.

a cowboys reconstruction; in search of future's past

a cowboys reconstruction; in search of futures past

fiction
edward w pritchard


In search of futures past I seek to restore my shattered life. What better way to make a modest start than to rebuild one of my favorite cars that I owned as a youth? With no money, no prospects and no vehicle I start life's journey anew.

A chance to get one's hands dirty, a chance to scour the flea markets for vintage parts and a chance to return to the carefree happiness of youth when all one's potential futures were remarkable.

So far I have about a dozen greasy auto parts wrapped in pieces of an old green tarp in the leaky aluminum shed in the backyard. The shed doesn't lock but I sleep lightly with an ear ready to apprehend anyone looking to steal my potential futures past. This time I will guard my journey carefully and reconstruct days and years ahead with my own best interests in the forefront.

A car has about thirty thousand parts. So far I have found a dozen assorted pieces to my future dream car although the parts are to different makes of vehicles.  I have a long way to go to proceed into my ideal future in style.

Each night the 5AM train whistle wakes me and I spend about an hour reminiscing about all the intriguing women who sat in the passengers seat of the cars I owned as a teenager. Then it's to the daily business of finding a hood for a 65 VW or headlights for a 57 Chevy.

Loneliness and suffering are a part of life. Get busy to restore childhood happiness.

[1] with a wink to Marcel Proust for the inspiration, someone is feeling better already

someday when the machines must kill men

someday when the machine must kill men

fiction
edward w pritchard

Someday when the intelligent machines ruling the world must kill men it won't be with the violence of a firing squad, a guillotine, or a hanging by the neck till dead.

Every day for 30 a solitary pill of magnisius pulsate will be administered until the cumulative effect on the system causes the human to suffer sudden death. With mercy and efficient compassion another obsolete unit will be dispatched.

Certainly not an unpleasant way to leave the world for a soul to ingest a pill a day for thirty with time to plan and contemplate the end. Better than a Crucifixion by half it will customarily then succinctly be said.

American Indian tribe returns to abandoned village

American Indian tribe returns to abandoned village

fiction
edward w pritchard

Dark night
cold winds howl
women carry starving children
warriors drag elderly
warrior carries broken weapons, useless shields
no meat, bad water, cold camp,
mounted soldiers on strong horses watch for night fires to kill remainder of tribe
dark night, cold winds howl, children have no blankets,
grown children sleep on ground and cry
warrior hangs head in cupped broken hands
strong wife's face show many emotions holding baby
wife put free hand against warriors back
warrior sobs in dark, baby stares at warrior
clear sky, million stars in milky way above
wife thump thump thumps sobbing warriors back with free hand chanting, chanting to dead ancestors
sobbing warrior mumbles to gods, return buffalo, restore abandoned village to happier times
in morning, children search, search, search abandoned village's sacred grounds for spent carbine shells from soldiers repeating rifles to sell on strings to Indian agent at reservation
wife carries baby and searches sacred ground for plants for breakfast
warrior sits on rock and carves arrow
after breakfast, elderly woman dances ghost dance before today's march
as tribe marches out of village, old man sweeps juniper branches across sacred grounds to erase footprints

when I am 64, the secret lyrics

when I am 64, the secret lyrics

fiction
edward w pritchard

Don't burden me with research to find out the real facts of the matter but this writing reveals the secret meaning of " Paul Mc Cartney's song, he wrote, " When I am 64" at the authentic age of 16 years old.

It's a beautiful little song with all the wisdom of human history summed up in a few minutes of music and lyrics. " Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I am 64?"

On balance have I done more good than bad?

I hear there are a trillion/billion galaxies and stars out there somewhere. Looking back, perhaps I made an error or misjudgment or two,

forget technical and fundamental analysis the real cure for the stock market debacle

forget technical and fundamental analysis the real cure for the stock market debacle

fiction
edward w pritchard

America and the World as it's followers doesn't need a new IPO social networking stock to revive the sinking World's stock markets and get the global economies back on the Bullish track again or the economies of the World don't need new technical or fundamental analysis tools to revitalize a way to reappraise the New age stocks to new highs again. Forget new technologies. American can bring back hyper growth to the economies of the World by reintroducing a forgotten American Industry.

The World needs to spend it's evenings going to American drive in movies again. Eating buttered popcorn again, trying to get your high school red headed girl into the back seat of a 1967 Olds Cutlass with a reverberation powered in car radio and watching " Cherry, Harry and Raquel" the Movie until 2AM; a new industry like Drive in movies could be just the ticket to get the major economies of the world on a fast track to healthy growth again and after healthy growth in business the stock markets of the World are sure to enter a new and permanently perpetual  Bull market phase.

As an added bonus if the leaders of the World are skipping economic meetings at Davos and instead going to Drive in Movies there will be no one to devise news ways and reasons to bomb the ancient Syrian City of Aleppo anymore which will help stop the European refugee crisis as Women and children won't have to flee Aleppo in terror anymore and the end of the European refugee crisis would restore confidence to World stock markets and a lot of the world's problems will vanish as the magic of economic growth as usual cures many of the world's problems.

Forget technical and fundamental analysis the real cure for the stock market debacle is for the World's leaders is to stop going to meetings at Davos to have secret meetings about bombing raids on Syria and instead go to American style drive in movies and when they return to their Home countries tout the " new"  retro Drive in Movie phenomena as the new growth industry to revitalize business and Markets.

Stop the bombing in Syria

SUNDAY, JULY 22, 2012

Wake softly Syria

Wake softly Syria

fiction
edward w pritchard

Wake softly Syria,
the sun has risen bringing morning breezes to soothe your sorrows.

Look to the horizon Damascus ancient Mother city.
Streaks of gold light entice you, awake; stir again Mother Damascus arouse your children
to productive activity.

Up and about to the souk hearty Aleppo.
Send men to trade and build.
Daylight is upon us Halab, greet foreign traders in the marketplaces.

Whisper in Aramaic humble Ma'aloula, tell the nations what comes next.

Joy and create sleepy Ras Shamrah, out to Ugarit to remind the world who taught them to write.

Awake sleeping Syria, ancient land. Your friends far away bid you reclaim your destiny.

Wake softly Syria.

after the lost cause the rest of the journey blurs

after the lost cause the rest of the journey blurs

fiction
edward w pritchard


After the lost cause the rest of the journey becomes prosaic. On a personal level everyday is basically the same although a monumental change has occurred for you to everyone else life goes on as before.

You just have to cope. Except for dreams, sleep is a temporary escape, except for reflection, the past fades away.

Re-post of previous reflection:

in the tent

fiction'
edward w pritchard

World War Two was awful and being in the army was bad. Every day your friends die, not in any pattern just here and there, now and then. Some just get wounded and that's worse.

Eventually you decide not to have friends but some other soldiers decided to make their philosophy to cope that they need friends so you still know people, some of whom are going to die or be wounded, maybe you.

The foods not much even for us poor people but you enjoy it sometimes, and then its not that bad.

Nature is good and you get to travel but there's always the war. Home is gone, no longer real or possible.

The only good thing is when you are in your own tent. After supper. Your fellow soldiers are on guard and they will be in their tents in a while and we all work very hard to make it so when one is in their tent they are safe, as safe as one can be in the army.

When we get somewhere and I must put up my tent I always follow the same procedure. I take lighter fluid and burn off the grass, to kill and drive away all inspects. I find the best spot I can, not wet or sloping and away from trees and with some kind of a view for coming and going. Then I put down something for a ground cloth, if available. Then I have my tent face the appropriate direction depending on too many factors to list. When it's all ready I put my stuff in there including my loaded rifle, I don't want to die without being ready. I also am duty bound I think to help my fellow soldiers, even ones I don't know.

Then at last I get in my tent, bravely turn my eyes from the opening and gradually drop off to sleep for about 35 minutes usually. I always wake up worrying and anxious or aggressive according to what's appropriate based on what might happen next. However, those 35 minutes are the best part about being in the army.

what's in a name

what's in a name

fiction
edward w pritchard


The virtue of long resting anonymity after one is gone is sweet reward. Too be forgotten by those scurrying about their lives after one's race is over is the final tribute for a quiet humble life well spent.

Case in point American twenty ninth President Warren G. Harding. Upon his death in 1923 he was initially remembered as a good man who worked hard at success in life who loved Marion, Ohio the small town he grew up in as a boy pursuing the Horatio Alger walk to success and through grit became successful and in the end President. Cheered at his funeral soon Warren G. Harding's memory was tainted with incrimination.

The cronyism of the Tea Pot Dome scandal, the nefarious affairs with his plain looking secret mistress Nan Britton and a child out of wedlock. Oh the infamy that has branded Harding the worst of the American Presidents.

And what of the poor students at the High School in Ravenna, Ohio named after Warren G. Harding?

Warren G, Harding high school in Northern Ohio has a nice stadium and a marred name that the students and teachers are forever burdened with.

Oh the infamy of having an affair with a plain looking woman.

without religion, without metaphor, a logical analysis

without religion, without metaphor, a logical analysis

fiction
edward w pritchard

Standing over the new grandson, the third time I saw him, with voice too loud, hulking pretense too close; the boy's eyes narrowed and softly threatened tears calling out in faith for the Mother.

Oh the miracle. Two hundred million years of life. Two seconds of belief.

cell tower in the desert

cell tower in the desert

fiction
edward w pritchard



repost

a wife misses her dead husband

fiction
edward w pritchard

Gone they are. My wings that you fixed thirty five years ago. They were strong while we soared together, always. It seems like a few hours since you fixed these wings; and now they broke; you gone just these few days, it seems like forever. I remember, I remember, you told me, you told me, we would always be together again, for eternity, wings strong then, you gone just these few days now, I remember, but it seems like you gone now forever already. I'll try, I try and wait.

Another thing, don't get mad. You told me watch the money, always. I try. But I so lonely. I call your name, always, always. I bought a cell tower out there in the desert. It's not that high, but the blinking light is bright, intensely white, so you can see it and know where to come back to me at later. It blinks every second, like I call your name now, every second. If I can't call your name every second, I try; look for the bright intense blinking white light out there where we used to go in the desert. I meet you there, I try and wait. When I don't know, it seems like forever already, since you left, listen and watch for me. I call your name.

By chance I stumbled into a race

By chance I stumbled into a race

fiction
edward w pritchard


By chance I stumbled into a race,
crawling first, then upright charging about,
the course from here to there had many twist and turns,
up down under and through unfamiliar terrain,
gamely did I run,
with will and determination did I compete,
first was I then,
well out in front,
then by luck a wrong turn.
I didn't give up but sprinted the harder,
with sinking heart,
the game over,
I ran till the end.