worthless man blues

 worthless man blues

fiction

edward w pritchard

Mostly my favorite music genre continues to be Louisiana blues and most mornings driving to my work I listen to "Junko partner" by various musicians black, white and brown. Lately I listen a lot to Harry Connick Jr's super piano version  of worthless man blues known as " Junko partner" on his tape "30". Junko partner comes out of Angola prison originally but they say it's roots were in Africa. In case you don't know Angola prison is a tough place to spend some prison time especially if you are black.  Originally the land around Angola prison were slave pens where the entrepreneur slave trader Issac Franklin made his fortune. On a similar note I heard recently that the song "Penny Lane" by the Beatles which is a favorite of mine also has a

link to slave trading as millionaire James Penny of  Liverpool England  may been the source of the street name "Penny Lane ". There is a lot of sadness in the study of History. Sorry I learned it sometimes. 

 

Margery Kemp the musical

 Margery Kemp the musical

fiction

edward w pritchard

My dearest grandfather Thomas:

Sadly my screen play " Margery Kemp the musical" has not attracted any seed money as of yet. As I mentioned the controversy in the local paper concerning St Paul's views on women preaching or even talking in church did generate a little interest in my play here locally but no actual funds to launch my play has appeared as of this date. 

I am well. As usual American society is spinning backwards and the country is going to hell. Most mornings I  am up before sunrise and watch the early morning light before I start my day. 

Take a train ride about the English countryside for me. See you soon/ed.

dakota skye deceased

 dakota skye deceased

fiction 

edward w pritchard

I was saddened to hear that Dakota Skye was deceased recently. Cause of death unknown at this time. Dakota Skye reportedly often combined the drug fentanyl and alcohol, a very dangerous combination.

In her public life as Dakota Skye she often did in public what should be done only in private. Apparently she died while facing various personal problems including possible homelessness. 

The ancient Romans had two words in their language to describe the Stoic concept of when it was publicly sanctioned as acceptable to consider suicide. Pudor was shame and Desperandum was no way out of an untenable situation. 

As Bob Dylan said " only a hobo but one more is gone, leaving nobody to sing her sad song"

 Unanswerable pondering to normal folks, the sadness of the human condition. 

night sky on Hindu Kush

 night sky on Hindu Kush

fiction

edward w pritchard

a Greek soldier far from home, a soldier for pay following Alexander the Great

viewing the night sky on the top pass of the Hindu Kush

night guard duty, no blanket, no camp fires for fellow sleeping soldiers, half a mile away

listening carefully for Bessus' warriors, clutching his sword, peering up at one billion stars

shivering, home permanently forgotten, legs aching, sadness of mind, 

ponders his future, why hasn't he been killed yet in a dozen battles

hungry, dinner skipped raw horse meat again

no one to remember, no one to forget

seven hours to dawn, one trillion stars rotate across sky

battle soon then on to India, more foreigners

where is his old friend The Moon, he wants to ask  

" How many  battles until it is over for me" 

another Mystic

 another Mystic

fiction

edward w pritchard

Oddness he said is a contrivance. Unusual he looked as he whispered " I am an archetype from your future", who doesn't do dialogue properly. 

Standing in the kitchen, I watched him sitting on my deck at 2:30 AM  in the darkened rear yard, me peering through the broken deck doors that wouldn't slide enough to open. I could hear every word he said although he spoke with a heavy accent and not in our language. Automatically I could enough understand later what he was whispering, to ruminate to recall the main ideas. 

These thoughts are on one in a million, of Mothers and lonely women, he spoke. He was talking to me I saw through the darkness. Are you St John of the cross I whispered?

Laughing he stood up. No, not is I, sayeth he. He was less than five feet tall, a diminutive man with tinted pinkish hair and  cauliflower ears. Not me is the mystic he repeated. I am but a spinner of useless information from your future. Continuing, sitting down in the Darkness, he said too loudly, Don't  predict the past, him disappearing from memory. 

Standing there a long time, I waited for the stars to reappear.  

Shah Jahan on house arrest

 Shah Jahan on house arrest

fiction

edward w pritchard

 It's always been important to me to try to ascertain if the Mogul ruler Shah Jahan while under house arrest after being ousted from ruling by his son was able to see the full Moon a few days a month from his place of incarceration. 

Folk history says Shah Jahan who built the Taj Mahal for his endeared deceased wife was able to look at the Taj the most beautiful building ever built for the eight years he was imprisoned in India until he finally died as we all do. Broken hearted to be sure despite his earlier triumphs. 

The news papers hint that our Country's ex President may soon be convicted and perhaps under house arrest. 

Myself, my room overlooks an Eastern sky containing a majestic full Moon several nights a month. About a hundred steps from my front door is a serene Lake that often contains the reflection of the Full Moon if an observer is present to see it.  

How many eyes have gazed upon the Full Moon and reflected upon the systematic passing of Time?

   

Dante is unapproachable to me

Dante is unapproachable to me

fiction

edward w pritchard

Nessum maggior dolore che ricordarsi del tempo felice nella miseria. [There is no greater pain than to recall a happier time in misery.] Such is my reflection of my trip to Dante's intimate chapel in Florence.

Alas I cannot maintain sadness of the past anymore. Instead I will wonder what happen to the ten missing Botticelli's  drawings of the original 100 plus drawing of Dante and Virgil's descent through Hell.

Seven of Botticelli's  drawings are in the Vatican Library and that is appropriate. Sadly others  are in a museum in Berlin that weren't confiscated as penalty for foul deeds after WW2. 

Botticelli's  drawing of Dante's Comedia are a masterpiece. 

Myself sitting in the solemnity of Dante's chapel in Florence 20 + years ago seeing the future I realized Hell is a personal realization of the unsaid. 

Still I acknowledge that Dante's and Bocassio's masterworks are among the World's greatest art. 

Dante's Hell is unapproachable to me. Hell hath no exit for he who mourns.