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Saturday, September 28, 2019

advice from Marcus

Advice from Marcus

fiction
edward w pritchard

Tonight I am listening to the beatitudes and reading Marcus Aurelius to make myself a better person. I understand the message of the virtue in what they say and admire the simple beauty of their advice.

However some times the behavior we exhibit does not measure up to the good advice we have received and understood.

Somewhere inside we have certain impulses that trip us up.

Here is what I wrote before on one of our vices, that of impulse.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2011


pink car, pink seats, pink poodle

pink car, pink seats, pink poodle

fiction
edward w pritchard

Pink car, pink seats, pink poodle. The car was named champion, the plates said fox, and the oversized French poodle was named fee-fee. Lavony wore pink suits and had pink streaks in her hair.

Even after what she did to me I couldn't bring myself to hurt her car. I did shoot her dog. Just one shot. Not in the car. I think Lavony suspected me because I never did like her dog fee-fee.

I saw Lavony driving around the neighborhood later with another dog. I didn't catch it's name.

Friday, September 27, 2019

human history in a nutshell

human history in a nutshell

fiction
edward w pritchard

The boy sat on the barn watching the sunset and dreamed of running barbarians flanking the phalanx to get to the women hiding in haylofts of barns before they were burnt.

The girl played with an electronic barbie doll that taught her 14 languages so she could be a more compassionate Doctor or nurse.

The Mother worked the Father worried.

The People schemed and voted for old Men.

The old Men sat on the barn watching the sunset and dreamt of running barbarians flanking the phalanx to get to the women hiding in haylofts of barns before they were burnt.

The Earth over heated the animals vanished the Sky cried.

Thursday, September 26, 2019

answer Jesus

answer Jesus

fiction
edward w pritchard

Scientists assuredly tell me that early most distant mega galaxies are moving away from me faster than the speed of light expanding or escaping into nothingness. It's a known fact that can be proven mathematically or mentioned by Hubble. Please answer me Jesus. Did you know that fact of the expanding universe when you stood on a hill and proclaimed the sermon on the mount? The translation I read once didn't mention it. Perhaps it is meaningful.

I am not calling on you to talk about distant mega galaxies. I wanted to ask if you had met a man from ancient Gadara named Menippus the famous cynic. Scholars now are trying to link your sermon on the mount to some of the cynic philosophies prevalent in the Roman town of Gadara not all that far from Nazareth. I'll try to post a picture of Menippus as imagined how he might have looked by Velazquez the painter soon if I can master the technology of a picture in a post which I have forgotten how to do because of my age.

One thing more Jesus those pesky Romans sure had their hands in everything back in your day. Anyway I know its a stretch but I was curious if Menippus of Gadara might be the fixer and arranger guy who worked for you in your travels and mentioned in my story " Jesus the most dangerous man in History"? It's posted below.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2010


Jesus the Most Dangerous Man in History

Jesus the Most Dangerous Man in History

fiction
edward w pritchard

Being near Jesus was dangerous and lethal to one's past affiliations. When Jesus lead us to a new town, women would often take their families and go into the hills for up to a week to keep husband's and children from his jeopardous influence. In time an element of peril surrounded us, Jesus' followers, for just being near him. Later we were the one's staying in the hills, and places obscure and hidden, for we were forbidden to enter towns, business areas and churches. However despite incredible hardships we were blissfully happy and even obscurity could not stifle Jesus' message which convulsed to be revealed.

Jesus presence had became mesmerizing. When we heard the message of profound truth he taught we only wanted to be near him, abolish our sinful ways and full fill and experience the destiny he promised us. More than one who met him or even heard of him would abandon a faithful wife, or son and daughter, or Father and Mother in hope of following him about or just doing one deed or small kindness to make his life easier, if only for a moment.

I traveled with Jesus for several years before he recruited the disciples but was forced to leave the group because I was a link to his past, a past which he had forsaken as the power of his message burst from his body. I had been an early friend, arranger, and bodyguard and assisted Jesus as he prayed, studied and meditated. As the aura developed around him day to day I began to taste a fear in the air, the fear of disruption and destruction to every day concerns and matters. Matters such as carrying money, clothes and personal items became unimportant to Jesus and he bid us to abandon any type of planning as we traveled and trust in things working out without any preparation. We traveled in to unfamiliar towns throughout Judea with no contingencies. My job as arranger was dissolving before my eyes and incredibly the multitudes of followers took Jesus literally and many traveled in fact as wandering beggars but with complete faith and became a community of believers of his word. Jesus walked and we followed. He planned only for the next day but continued to allow me to go on with my duties as arranger for the time being.

Jesus was always an incredible judge of character and could instantly dig out the hidden obscure motivations of others often with only a glance. Initially however, I would go into a town first, with money and smooth the way for Jesus' entrance. I would meet people, arrange places for us to stay and make plans so we could avoid breaking any Roman local rules and ordinances or upsetting the Jewish hierarchy. I was loyal to Jesus, but eventually even I out of concern for his safety and those of the faithful followers had to say something about the effects on every day concerns the brutal honesty of his message was causing. The more I fought with myself to stay grounded in everyday matters of business and commerce the further I was driving myself from the bliss of Jesus' community of followers.

If I had to give an example that a modern reader could understand I would say to imagine if a prophet walked from town to town In America in 1968 and gave LSD to every man woman and child over age 16 who wasn't satisfied with his spiritual situation. Jesus wanted to awaken those who were not content, not full of conformity, and not comfortable with their skin and their situation. Then imagine if those malcontents began to spread the word that a teacher was coming who could show a brighter day, had the answers to the meaning of all things and would lead the awakened. Then imagine if Jesus in 1968 had urged those to give up their money, jobs, family, health insurance, extra clothes and shaving and make-up kits and walk with him. Often then he would disappear with a few favorites to think and evolve and then return to us and share greater growing insights against the thoughts and beliefs that we had been raised on and were the foundations of our everyday lives. Then imagine if those malcontents began to become perfectly at peace with themselves, selfless, and approached the world with love, joy, peace and goodwill towards all, even their enemies.

Eventually as I returned to Jesus after leaving him to arrange the affairs in the next town we were to enter I would be shocked by his appearance, especially the hollow timeless eyes. He would be sitting alone, deep in thought refusing food or water and then after a while began to speak. Whatever one was doing became unimportant and the focus would be on the hidden meaning of his words and Jesus would birth ideas and concepts that were earth shaking. Later when I would try to logically fit Jesus' profound teachings into my belief system I would become afraid for us. Because his message was disturbing, revolutionary, and absolutely and perfectly anti-establishment I often wanted to silence Jesus out of fear for his safety. There were Romans everywhere and they were formidable and they controlled our world. The followers of Jesus became blind to the reality of the Romans however and bathed in the message; I however fought that bath, and drove myself from my friend Jesus, and was left behind, and could not walk with him any longer.

In a small village , after a very long walk Jesus was sitting in a chair exhausted, for he had been refusing water during the trip. A woman came in, just an ordinary woman, who none of us knew and she poured an expensive ointment on his head from the Country of India, said to refresh and revitalize. Jesus was grateful and blessed the woman. Later It took me several hours to soothe the irate Husband, whose wife had spent over two years of their savings on the potion. The husband was convinced the wife had gone mad and was threatening to complain to the Romans. This was unthinkable for Roman justice was brutal and swift and the woman, the husband and Jesus would be in grave danger. The Romans were only afraid of two things and that was disorder and chaos and they dealt violently with threats of either. Miraculously I shielded Jesus from himself until he began to recruit the disciples and heal the malcontent-ed, and until it became humanly impossible to stop confrontation with civil authority.

We were walking along an inland sea and Jesus had just recruited two new followers. Jesus knew I was upset because I knew nothing of the men, had not checked them out in advance, as was customary and Jesus had called them in a flamboyant public way which only a year ago he had cautioned against. Jesus was talking very fast to me in private and was convinced that the new man Simon [ later called Peter] would be a key member of the group who could spread the word and message beyond Judea and into the future. I tried to believe but I saw only a humble fisherman, and one with a sour temper. Fortunately no one objected to those two men leaving their boat. They just jumped off the boat and left. They didn't say good bye and they didn't explain to anyone. I often had told Jesus that this type of showmanship would upset the Romans because the recruits creditors and obligates would complain. Jesus however had taken to answering me in parables that made sense when we talked but later left me holding a handful of water when it came to practical ways to avoid the civil authority.

Jesus and I fell out however over the recruitment of James and John good son's of Zebedee a fisherman also. We were walking past their boat, in a very public place with the usual multitudes and Jesus called both James and John and they just came with us. The Father was a good man, and although he employed other fisherman was devastated by the loss of his sons who he had trained and nurtured to carry on his business. The Father also was not a bad spiritual man, he followed the laws of his people. I found later he helped the poor and unfortunate; and as I later brought up to Jesus as him and I argued over the matter Zebedee feared and respected God. The crowds saw this happen and to them such drama was becoming narcotic and they craved miracles, showmanship and razz ma taz.

Jesus was alone and it was 1AM when I was able to see him. He was in a small tent, the kind goat herders use and was sitting delicately on a light chair. Jesus looked frail and had a feminine element to himself that day that frightened me more than our problems with the Romans. I had known Jesus back in Nazareth and had often punched and jostled at him and he was robust and strong. As Carpenter, I often saw Jesus carry heavy logs of wood with ease. Now the aura of death surrounded him, especially at night. I knew he slept poorly and had troubled dreams but his presence to me seemed to spread fear, and potential disaster and I could taste the destruction that surrounded him.

We argued for a few minutes and I told Jesus I couldn't do it any more. Jesus hugged me and bid me follow my own heart, told me he always loved me, and promised I could always come back to the community. I broke the bond between us. No goodbyes to my friends of several years and I had nothing to carry with me anyway so I headed East away from the direction Jesus was going tomorrow and sought to reclaim my life. Now it was my turn to fore sake my past for I had been one of the first to experience the perfect joy of Jesus presence and I was forsaking it.

A few weeks later I heard through my contacts that Jesus had recruited a tax collector for the Romans to be his chief scribe. Levi known as Matthew. Matthew had left his coins on the table where he worked and just walked off the job. Nothing could be better orchestrated to upset and infuriate the Romans.

Every night now my dreams are alive with the presence of Jesus' death and I fear and tremble for him out of the love I still have for him. Nothing seems real any more but the comfort of the message of Jesus is gone. It all seems like a mirage. The Romans however are every where I look. I can't believe we were able to avoid them these last 18 months because they are easily angered. Everything I believed is gone and I have lost my faith. I never feared death, it is always at hand in our times however, something seems missing. As I face the future I sometimes hope that the new scribe Matthew will be able to write down for others who come later what I could not hold in my mind of Jesus' message. I often pray that others once they experience the bliss of Jesus and his Father's kingdom to come do not backslide like I did because of business concerns but remain faithful to the message and not brood, worry and persecute and strangle themselves with tomorrows disquietations.



Tuesday, September 24, 2019

hail the King

hail the King

fiction
edward w pritchard

America needs a King to allow it's citizens to sever themselves from their obsession with politics.
It's time to revisit the entire system of our Country's sacred  ideals of government which Americans uncritically worship as handed down to us by a wealthy elite group of enlightenment inspired 18th century Men.

America needs a philosopher King to allow it's citizens to sever themselves from their obsession with buying, selling and accumulating to allow themselves to hoard for retirement and to escape through travel and flight from reality and pursue easy living for years and years.

America needs an enlightened philosopher King/Preacher to synthesize Stoicism and all the major religious ideals into everyday language and everyday activities to teach the People to accept things as they are.

A  Queen would work just as well as a King; perhaps a  Queen whose noble husband died in glorious honorable battle a few months after the second child was born. A Queen who could protect Americans from the two approaching demons of negative interest rates and global warming that are coming to terrify the People. A Queen who lived a long long time, sprinkled reparations onto everyone for past injustices and always had our backs.


Sunday, September 15, 2019

trouble from Yemen

trouble from Yemen

fiction
Edward w Pritchard


Bombing of oil refining facilities and storage locations occurring in Saudi Arabia this weekend are alleged to have originated from Yemen. President Trump has pledged to release strategic oil reserves from American stock piles to stabilize the world price of oil. Tomorrow we may hear President's Trumps plans for retaliation against the perpetrators of the bombings.

Too bad Hillary Clinton is not a part of President Trumps advisory team.  Mrs.Clinton visited Yemen about 7 years ago I recall when she worked strategically on military matters for President Obama. At that time she promised Yemen more humanitarian aide if the Country of Yemen could straighten it's house out internally.

The people of Yemen are suffering greatly and have done so for many years. Meanwhile Iran and Saudi Arabia remain involved in the internal politics of the country of Yemen and religious conflict
among Muslims worsen the situation. Meanwhile cholera and starvation occur periodically in Yemen even in the 21st century. It's a sad situation.

America should be slow to help or intervene in Yemen other than with humanitarian aide and and let the Muslim countries of the region find a solution to their problems. Wouldn't it be nice if like the Catholics have a Pope to act as an interloper at times in the internal politics of Catholic countries throughout History the Muslims Countries now had a supreme religious head of the Muslim church
to provide secular assistance and guidance in times of stress to prevent warfare and suffering. Such a policy could keep Western and far Eastern countries from being dragged into the problems of the Muslim world which always end badly.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

ex parte communication with the ex

ex parte communication with the  ex

edward w pritchard

Apparently I have been convicted with ex parte communication with the ex without me having nothing to gain from my sincerity.

It's a form of censorship that will not appear  in the 120 banded American books.

Forgetting myself and protocol I happened to express a sincere compliment concerning a mutual interest in our joint grandchildren.

Don't comment and this is the type of thing that cannot be learned in school originally after a very long day and two quick beers.  The realization that the encounter was all in my head is not a defense.

Further affiant sayeth not.

Saturday, September 7, 2019

where are you tonight Nelson Wilbury?

where are you tonight Nelson Wilbury?

fiction
edward w pritchard

Where are you tonight Nelson Wilbury? I heard you say all things must pass but it seems less than feasible when it is everybody. When it is ultimate, inevitable and permanent.

Since your gone may I call you George again? [1] Like we did before you were adopted into the Wilbury family. George I felt your pain when you were dealing with your own imminent death and you realized that you would be gone, and you would also pass and it wasn't just a staged gimmick to market music.

Well I am proud of myself cause I won't go screaming into that goodnight and I can imagine no religion too. I am very much at peace. As long as when I fall one last time I don't cause anyone any inconvenience with disposing of me I am calm. It's easier I think for a non celebrity.

Good night George. See you over yonder, maybe. 

[1] George Harrison assumed the contrived stage  identity of Nelson Wilbury with the super band "Traveling Wilburys" to sell music.

the Mormon Senate Historian

the Mormon Senate Historian

fiction
edward w pritchard

As a condition of the truce between the American Government and the Mormons in the 19th century an official US Senate Historian was appointed to serve in the Senate when the Senate was in session to officially record any bill that might be of interest to Mormons.

To date the current official Mormon Historian who serves part time from Utah and monitors Senate activity by electronic means is now the only ranking government official not to receive a scathing tweet from current President Donald Trump. This is breaking news and this blog takes credit for first noticing this and as a patriotic supporter of our President brings it public with no expectation of vast economic personal gain.

Blogger supports our President  though at times has trouble keeping up with the whirl of activity he generates.

Friday, September 6, 2019

American materialists and Hindi's

American materialists and Hindi's

fiction
edward w Pritchard

Ask any American materialist about the Hindi's and if he can find the time to answer he will tell you they don't accomplish enough.

Upon reflection you may understand.

Everything that can ever happen has occurred over there in India. It's all eternal recurrence over and over.

Every thought, every philosophy, every definition, and every path in nuance in everyone's journey through life has happened before again and again.

That's  it.

the spice of life

the spice of life

fiction
edward w pritchard

If you are one of misfortunates scrambling around from career to career  forced to work to support your brief stay on the spinning planet solace and mercy upon you.

Don't forget you have not lived and suffered in vain. What could be more important than spending one's time searching for the identity of the hole card in Bill Hitchcock's dead man's hand or shooting out the spotlight in Buffalo Bill's wild west show when it was your time to perform for the excurtionists.

Thursday, September 5, 2019

swerve elsewhere hurricane

swerve elsewhere Hurricane

fiction
edward w pritchard

Some people vacation poolside in Aruba, some at Mallorca in the Balearic Islands of Spain on a small yacht; me I just want to return one more time to the Jolly Roger Hotel at Top Sale Island in North Carolina. It has a nice pier where you can sit and have a beer while you fish, a fantastic ocean view and is reasonably priced.  It's not your typical American beach side resort. It's more laid back in a one star rating only type of way.

Swerve elsewhere Hurricane Dorian. Hopefully the Jolly Roger survives the upcoming storm. My bucket list is short. One day I will skip the on line reviews and return to the Jolly Roger one last time.

Tuesday, September 3, 2019

the bicycle thief turned the tide

the bicycle thief turned the tide

fiction
edward w pritchard

A bicycle thief stole my bike this week and since I had talked to the culprit prior to the robbery the outlaw changed my philosophy from a sedate orderly America to a world of suspicious interlopers. After the urge to violence and revenge passed I decided to take a short and brief  inward journey and re-examine my regrets and remorse in my life to date, opportunities missed, and friends lost and travel alone sans bike into a pathless future of short but steady duration. Along the way should I interact with anyone or thing I hope to remind myself that most of those we encounter are not really that good of person all in all and it's our unrealistic ideals that cause the regrets and remorse for the most part.

Hence like the youth of today selfishly say- no problem Amigo.


Monday, September 2, 2019

it's been fifty two years since brother bought a store in Tupelo

it's been fifty two years since brother bought a store in Tupelo

fiction
edward w pritchard

It's been fifty two years since brother bought a store in Tupelo [ Mississippi] [1] and no one seems to care how him and Becky Thompson's marriage worked out.

Me? Sometimes I talk to my doll and sometimes I drop flowers into the River. A strange way for a 70 year old woman to behave folks around here say.

[1] "Ode to Billie Joe" Bobby  Gentry



Van Gogh's wheat field with crows

Van Gogh's wheat field with crows

fiction
edward w pritchard

Vincent wrote he was trying to express extreme sorrow and loneliness in his last painting "Wheat field with crows" finished a few days before his death. The picture haunts me.

This month I fear and tremble for our country. I have a premonition that something unexpected will occur. So I turn to Van Gogh's picture for solace and to gather my foreboding.

labor day family reunion picnic

labor day family reunion picnic

fiction
edward w pritchard

Out at Uncle Watson's farm the boys were playing baseball labor day at the family reunion picnic.
Forty matching casual chairs faced home plate in a large semicircle this year for uncle Watson had done well in the stock market of late and the tables back of cousin Mike the catcher were loaded with store bought fancy eats as well as every woman's here special concoction potato salad in a crystal bowl.

As the ball game was winding down a bit Etta Watson's neighbor 40 year old Mrs McDonald strolled over in a pair of yellow shorts bringing her neighbors her coveted chocolate  fudge Brownies. Grandpa Howard who I was respectfully sitting with slowly stood up and sided over to Home plate grabbed the bat from cousin Mickey as the teenage boys smiled and glancing at Mrs.McDonald asked his great nephew Arron to lob him a curve ball.

With a crack Grandpa whacked the mushy soft ball clear past and over the barn he used to play in as a boy way way out in right center field.

"Run grandpa run I yelled".

Grandpa smiled at me and returned slowly to his seat and as he walked he said sort of to everyone " First is earned and second base is worked for as third base is given but home plate is never forgotten.

A little later I remember Grandpa sitting drinking a beer and my Mother grandpa's oldest  daughter being a little bit mad at her Father.