John Lennon didn't die in 1980 he died at the Battle of the Somme in 1916

John Lennon didn't die in 1980 he died at the Battle of the Somme in 1916

fiction
edward w pritchard

John Lennon didn't die in 1980 in 1980 he died in 1916 at the battle of the Somme. Somme is a department in Northern France scene of a ferocious battle in WW1 where hundreds of thousands of British Citizens died in combat.

Out of convention if a man jumps back in History after his first death and dies before he was born then the second date of his death is officially used for Record as his historical date of death. Here to fore, John Lennon then, later founder of the Beatles who influenced World culture in the 1960's was one of half a million Anglo-French Causalities in the Summer and Fall of 1916 at Somme.

Little is known of Lennon's contributions as a soldier at Somme in 1916. Perhaps he played a harmonica between battles and perhaps he wrote poetry and lyrics against the absurdity of War. Perhaps Lennon's experiences with Mustard gas, flame throwers and bayonets in 1916 during WW1 at Somme later molded his strong opinions expressed in his music on War and imperialism in the 1960's.

No pictures exist of Lennon as a Tommie in the "Great War" as the British called WW1. Historians speculate that Lennon although intelligent would have just been one of the troops and not an officer.
However, in any event it's certain that John Lennon would have looked dapper in a uniform and would have marched and ducked with a certain style as he charged over the top and rolled over barb wire during Hellish conflagration. No known etchings of actual WW1 battle scenes that were drawn by Lennon have been found.

This year the 100th anniversary of the Battle of the Somme in 1916 let us remember the forgotten millions of good Men who died in heroic battle in the Great War. If John Lennon hadn't been assassinated by John David Chapman in 1980 and still lived today he would agree that the brave soldiers who fought and died in WW1 deserve to be long remembered.

Somme a terrible word that should be recalled with sadness and resignation by citizens of all the Nations forever.

Donald Trump for President; sometimes the spirit of History is a little confused on things

Donald Trump for President; sometimes the spirit of History is a little confused on things

fiction
edward w pritchard


Why don't successful clairvoyants tell us what Donald Trump will be doing in fifteen years and publish now a copy of ex President's Trump's Wiki page from the year 2030?

Meanwhile a challenge to meticulous historical researchers living here and now. How many lawsuits have been officially filed by Donald Trump thus far in the United States as of today's date?

We like Mr. Trump's audacity. He looks to become the Hugh McColl Jr. of politics. That is as Hugh McColl of Bank America was to banking so Donald Trump will be to Politics when all is eventually said and done. The epic doings of great Men.

Sometimes the spirit of History is a little confused on things; it's hard to get your arms around what will happen in advance. Why don't successful clairvoyants tell us what Donald Trump will be doing in fifteen years and publish now a copy of ex President's Trump's Wiki page from the year 2030?

fiscal irresponsibility and the final judgment of Candidate Donald Trump

fiscal irresponsibility and the final judgment of Candidate Donald Trump

fiction
edward w pritchard

The spirit of History is always dealing another new hand of cards and each hand is ten or twenty million possible outcomes of what will happen. Sometimes three red Jacks are dealt in a row and a guy like current republican Presidential candidate Donald Trump wins the nomination and the election because of the fickle winds of circumstance and we have a Billionaire to Judge us as individuals.

How will you be judged?

To Presidential candidate Donald Trump all who have a net worth of less than a billion dollars must seem quite fiscally irresponsible indeed. Hopefully the checks and balances set in place centuries ago by our forefathers will protect us from his wrath. That is all of us who to Mr Trump look like fiscally we are a typical no frills checking account customer at the latest generation bank of Walmart.

schadenfreude is the pepper that spices the lives of the envious; the historical perspective misses the human detail and suffering

schadenfreude is the pepper that spices the lives of the envious; the historical perspective misses the human detail and suffering

fiction
edward w pritchard


Births, deaths and a muck about in between. All are missed as the historical perspective misses the human detail and suffering.

The fear and terror of the little boys of ancient Sparta snatched from their Mother's side to become little warriors in training at age seven is two brief lines in a history text.

History looks to the big picture and forgets the sorrow and sadness of the lives of the forgotten.

Meanwhile day to day we glory in the suffering and misfortune here and now of those around us. Schadenfreude is the pepper that spices the lives of the envious.

As one who has been there, done that and seen a lot we must ask " Did too wise old David Hume secretly pray when he saw a very sick child whatever the poor Souls age?

For us all, Edna St. Vincent dead smiles and writes" my candle burns at both ends it will not last the night".

I am too busy anymore to judge anyone, listening to my burning candle hiss-ss as it gets to the end of it's wick.

Here's what I wrote before:

ADBRIGHT

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2011

God help Lindsay Lohan

God Help Lindsay Lohan

fiction
edward w pritchard

God I see Lindsay is in trouble again and continues her attempts at self destruction. You and I both know that she can't help it and we both know that although she is only one person, her suffering is magnified because of international attention to her slow demise. God help Linda Lohan.

Here's what I wrote before, a few crisis es back for her:

Wednesday, May 5, 2010
even a confused broad deserves solace and comfort


God help Lindsay Lohan

fiction
edward w pritchard

Nature had blessed her with the prerequisites for fame as a beauty and nature had bestowed those blessings at an early age. Fame extracted the usual percentage and by twenty years old she was maybe beyond repair psychologically. Beyond repair if she continued to function under the microscope of the menacing and morbid public gaze.

There was still money to be made for reporting on her, writing about her and picturing her. A cottage industry followed her as she fell from grace. Her every sin was posterized,her every failing was snicked at, and she was watched voyeuristically as she stumbled to her doom. Many a financial crisis was averted among camera people by snapping and exposing a picture of her as she exited a car, or more prosaically as she threw up on someones shoes after two solid nights of debauchery. She was doing the usual rake's progress in hyper mode and by age 21 there wasn't much she hadn't stumbled into, fallen down at, or fouled up at.

Her productivity plummeted. Even the most desperate low budget film director couldn't touch her. Their business partners had had enough of her stage hysterics.

Still the pictures of her demise were valuable.

Eventually sadly to report she died. The funeral rekindled interest in her exponentially. Not just in America, but in Asia, and throughout the world.

Unpublished pictures of her became worth $50,000 each.

After a few days of her death, no old pictures were to be found. Everything was previously copyrighted and a copyrighted picture couldn't be obtained for less than $500,000.

Of course ghoulishly her body was dug up again, under the guise of a second autopsy. Her body was displayed like a shot dead American outlaw on a wood upright angled display of two by fours. She was in a white dress and had flowers in her hair.

Enough--- even a confused broad deserves some solace and comfort. Please pray for Lindsay and don't take voyeuristic satisfaction in her sad photos. Where would you be if your sins were on the international news. God help Lindsay.
Posted by edward pritchard at 10:00 AM
Labels: god help lindsay

sweet baby Jesus, i see the whole enterprise of your life and it makes me so sad

sweet baby Jesus, I see the whole enterprise of your life and it makes me so sad

fiction
edward w pritchard

Sweet baby Jesus, I see the whole enterprise of your life and it makes me so sad. Right now laying in a crib, calm, serene, the perfect baby; eyes so wise, can you see it all yourself? Where you are going, your startling end? Does it really have to happen?

Someday the good people will hate you, despise your revelations. But that's Easter, that's another Holiday. Some time off, some time in the murky future. Let's not talk of dragging crosses and processionals.

I stand in the Manger with you sweet baby Jesus. Let others sing and bring gifts. I'll catch your eye, I just want to understand.

 

Christmas on the edge of the solar system

Christmas on the edge of the solar system

fiction
edward w pritchard


It's hard for a deep space explorer like myself to have a revelry about the great philosophical questions because Houston space central back on earth implanted the Garman mood control system into my shoulder before I left earth on my way to the Kuiper belts. The Garman system in addition to monitoring my blood pressure, heart beat, diet, exercise and those type things scrambles my thoughts if I ruminate too long on a non productive topic.

I keep thinking why am I here. Why am I drifting through space?

Everyone I ever knew back on earth is old now. [ see below parts 1 to 5 for plot explanation] Yet I wake up each day, my day's lengths vary as determined by the computers on board, and I go about my assigned tasks and goals for the month. Anyway, everybody I ever knew back on earth is aging at a lot higher rate than me for some scientific reasons. What does it matter to me, Doreen 1st alone in a spacecraft. Always alone.

Computer tells me it's Christmas in a few days. Christmas in space.

I wish I could have a camp fire here on the ship and listen to Christmas carols and then sleep in a sleeping bag under the stars.

No fires on the spaceship. I can watch the stars out the portals and I can have computer play Christmas carols on the harmonica while I watch the patches of light be born and die in deep space.

Those patches of bright lights are my St Elmo's fire. The brilliant patches of galaxies lead my spaceship and they protect me as I drift through space on my journey to my destiny.

I have no idea what those distant galaxies are there for and how they relate to me. Why am I drifting through space?

" It came upon a midnight clear, that glorious song of old"

Please St Elmo dance the dance of the death fires this Christmas at midnight for me and those who come after me?

Is there a meaning? Is there a purpose?

It's me Doreen the first the space explorer who dares ask. Why am I here and how do I have the audacity to sentence those who I procreate and exist after me to slowly drift through space?

Will St Elmo protect my descendants on their journey as well and will they find out why we are here in the first place? What is it all about?

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 9, 2011

drifting through space/ parts 1, 2, 4,and 5 is new

drifting through space

parts 1, 2 and 3, 4 and 5

fiction
edward w pritchard

part 1

I am the sixth Doreen and I have been drifting through space for twenty seven years. It's time for me to reproduce soon. I will raise my daughter to age 13 and then she will become Doreen the seventh and I will die. Forty years being deemed the ideal lifespan for a female space explorer headed for the far edge of the Kuiper Belt. That's a journey of 465 years at the chosen speed we travel at for peak efficiency so God willing the eleventh Doreen should be the one to reach the far edge of the Kuiper belt. What awaits my great great great granddaughter at the far reaches of the Kuiper belt is a secret of sorts. We do it for science and for the benefits of humanity back on earth. Our origins as a species lie out in those distant Kuiper belts. It's necessary for eleven of us Doreen's to suffer a bit of loneliness and ennui in space to reach there.

Me I mate soon, and i fulfill my destiny. Drifting through space headed for the Kuiper belts as a space explorer for scientific discovery.

end-part1

Part 2

They aren't just lucid dreams. My unborn Granddaughter Doreen the eighth has been coming to see me in my dreams to advise me on how to survive this illness of cancer. It's real Doreen the eighth coming to see me.. I think it is time travel; my Granddaughter Doreen the eighth coming to advise must mean I reproduced like normal for a space-explorer, hence I had my daughter who had her daughter, and since my granddaughter is advising me I must survive this cancer and reproduce. For now I am very sick. Being sick in a small spacecraft traveling toward the Kuiper belts is difficult and discouraging.

I have never been sick before. Genetically I am immune from most earthbound diseases, My artificial intelligence unit helps me cure anything else. Where did this cancer come from. I had a broken wrist once when I was four and My Mother Doreen the fifth was with me. I wish she were here. I would like to ask Mother if she thinks Doreen the eighth coming to me in Lucid dreams to advise me on how to cure the cancer I have that my artificial intelligence can't cure is real. Is it time travel by Doreen the eighth or am I Doreen the sixth imagining the whole thing. The medicine the artificial intelligence is giving me makes me sick and nauseous. Best sleep and rest again.

end part 2

Part 3

I am Doreen the first, the famous original space explorer. The first woman to give up her life for science to travel the rest of my days through space. I left everything I had and knew on earth to travel the rest of my life alone in this small space ship. To the Kuiper belts I go. It sounded exciting at first. To find the origins of our species. Somewhere in the rocks out there at the far edge of our Solar systems was the ultimate answer to how life started originally on earth.

I am a farce. I just wanted to escape my life in Middleton Iowa. The personal life is dead for me. It worked. Preston abandoned me for another woman and I couldn't get over it. I volunteered to spend the rest of my life traveling in a small spaceship. My sin, I sentenced ten of my descendants, starting with my daughter to be, her to be conceived artificially and then nine generations of grand and great -daughters doing same.

Why am I telling this. Now they want to know if for my mate I want Preston. Apparently his DNA is on board. That bastard. He wouldn't take my calls at home before I left. He's a lot older than me now. I am getting younger compared to him because of space/time changes caused by space travel. It's not much but it adds up. The main reason our space ships travel so so slow through space is because of space/time changes. We just drift along really. Best not think of Preston again. I have experiments to do and then I have to do my exercises before dinner. I wonder if Space command center Houston would let me talk with Preston just once. I am confused by a few things he said a long time ago. Maybe Houston would OK me talking with Preston if I said I needed to be courted before the insemination. Preston could be charming.. It would be nice to talk about something besides space travel with someone.

end part 3

drifting through space part 4

read parts 1 through 3 previous

fiction
edward w pritchard

No, No no. Doreen the first cannot choose her mate. It might jeopardize the mission. We do not object to planting ideas in her subconscious to facilitate the special needs of humans. For her to be connected with her daughter during pregnancy and after is a necessary objective. But we ask, wouldn't her nurturing the child for thirteen years in a small spaceship bond the two together.

Let us think upon this and we will get back with Houston space station control directly.

Artificial intelligence assisted logical analysis unit 6

Chicago Illinois,
Jan 22, 2034
Jack Allings PHD, MD
and
artificial intelligence unit 302-Ghe level 1
end part 4

start Doreen the 5th

Dorene 5th
diary
one day in space

What's it like to have cycling in space? What's it like to be manic in space in a small, I mean very small, space shift slowly drifting through space. Drifting with no place really to go and to be in a manic phase? That's me Doreen the fifth. This is my life.

Despite all my superior genetics, oh so carefully cultivated and controlled in my ancestors; Doreen 1 through 4th  and before that my ancient ancestors on earth going back another three or four generations, I am manic in space in a small space craft. Sometimes I think I will shoot myself into space outside this cursed ship and take my chances in my space suit. The blue one, the blue space suit.

My mind is racing again. It must be a change in the weather. I can feel changes in the weather back on earth. A day or two before the weather changes I cycle from one phase to another mentally. Yes, I cycle even though I am in a space ship drifting toward the Kuiper belts and even though I am supposed to be a scientist. Immune and logical. Now my mind is racing again.

What to do of a terrific nature in a small small space ship? This manic phase will only last a few days. Large thoughts will fill my head. I can do anything now. What should I do? No where to go really; but that doesn't stop me, at least it hasn't before. During these last twenty years drifting through space toward the Kuiper belts with my manic thoughts and me bouncing off the walls of this small space ship. Here I go again. I can feel the weather changing millions of miles away back on Earth.

Maybe I will talk to my computer. My artificial intelligence friend and try to tell Ghe what it's like to be like this. Sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to. Even a machine who can't understand what its like to be human; and especially can't understand what its like to be manic depressive in a small space ship.

Greeting Ghe artificial unit number 766. Have I told you lately my latest plans and schemes? I have
some knew ideas.
Doreen 5th
end part 5

without pretension/worksheet 2

without pretension/worksheet 2

fiction
edward w pritchard



Let me live without pretension. When I work let me work, without fear of rewards or envy of failure.

When I fight let me battle, when aroused let me love when insulted let me strike quickly.

When I suffer embrace the glorious agony.. When victory occurs forget it.

If I am wronged let me be revenged future consequences be damned. Let me throw out my time line and live until I die though I start late the endeavor.

Many errors are made in the shadow of conscience. Upon reflection passion trumps thoughtfulness though others should not be advised or judged in action.

Loss is already mixed in the dough though the bread be not yet baked.

Live privately, act immediately. Life has no meaning misery is inevitable but not lasting.

Miss the future before it happens and be dead before you realize you are done.