Shana Tova!
Stock market crashes
No, I don't think that's hyperbole. The Dow Jones Industrial Average finished down 777 points, the biggest point loss in history. The previous record was -721.56 set in the immediate aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. The Standard & Poor's 500 shed 102.90, or roughly 8.5%. That was the worst percentage decline since the October 1987 crash. The Nasdaq Composite lost almost 200 points, or 9.1%.
Faltering investor confidence in US stocks last week has now started to show its worldwide market effect, as global stocks plummeted Monday in what many are deeming now ‘Black Monday’.
Over $120 billion dollars of shares have been wiped out as marketers panic worldwide, from Canada, to the UK to Asian markets.
This is will effect all our lives in some way. For it is indeed, the worst stock market crash in history.
Dr.John & Odetta
Stock Market and Monetary System on the verge of collapse
Get ready folks, the worst is yet to come! Stock up on the things you will need, while you can, and your money still has a little value.
This is not the end of the world my friends, I am here for you, and together, we will get through is. If the time comes that you need food and shelter; I am the man to see, being that I am very well stocked, and have four extra bedrooms at my disposal.
You are my friends, it's what I do.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The Incredible Shrinking Pressman's Hat
My sister Caren, has written a good article, about something that has always been dear to my heart. She is an editor for a chain of weekly newspapers in New Jersey, and I have no doubt, she knows How to Run a Newspaper. I can understand her veiled concerns, even before the advent of the Internet; newspapers were on the decline, but that is not all! "We read a lot about the incredible shrinking newspaper, but we see very little about the incredible shrinking newspaper hat". This makes me sad, I remember when the old press mechanic made the first pressman's Hat. for me. I was so proud, that I wore it home to show my folks I would not have traded it for a brand new Stetson! But the times they are a changing.
I suppose my love affair with the printed media must have began back in 1962 when I tried my luck at selling Grit, door to door at age of 10. By 1965, for the love of money, I became a Newspaper boy, for The Columbus Dispatch an afternoon paper. Later I also had to take over my brothers morning paper route, The Columbus Citizen-Journal,. It was not long before my Mom and Dad got recruited into being circulation mangers for the entire village of Jefferson. It seemed like a good deal at the time. But as soon as the first cold Winter hit, over half of our paper boys were a bunch of little pussies, and they began quiting on us. Thank heavens I had my first drivers licence by then. Undaunted Mom had the newspaper fever. She somehow hooked us up with a weekly free paper, called the Spectator, a paper that printed only good news, and lots of advertisements. The Spectator was much smaller than Caren's monster, but they did have a huge two story press that was built in 1932 for the ChicagoTribune It could be the very one you see on youtube! I got lucky, and got a summer job in the Specttator press room, and that is where I learned to make the cap. I can almost smell the acidic fumes from the remelting of the Linotype in the smelter, as well as the odor from those heavy rolls of paper, mixed with the smell of that oily black ink, as I write this. It was hot and sweaty work, but I loved it so!
Two of my dear friends treated me to dinner and a movie this weekend, I was a bit uneasy being out with two wildcats, even tough they were the best of friends with each other, I was very careful to keep my hands to myself. The movie they chose was Nights in Rodanthe. I believe at least one of them think that I favor Richard Gere, the other should know better. I've always considered myself to be much more attractive than Richard, but seeing him do well in life gives me hope for the future, much as the late Paul Newman did with his unique style and,charisma, and I hope to keep all the young girls blushing, as I get ever older. Why settle for less? We should all live our lives to the fullest, and strive always to embrace the world with love, and compassion. In return, you will always be young at heart.
I suppose my love affair with the printed media must have began back in 1962 when I tried my luck at selling Grit, door to door at age of 10. By 1965, for the love of money, I became a Newspaper boy, for The Columbus Dispatch an afternoon paper. Later I also had to take over my brothers morning paper route, The Columbus Citizen-Journal,. It was not long before my Mom and Dad got recruited into being circulation mangers for the entire village of Jefferson. It seemed like a good deal at the time. But as soon as the first cold Winter hit, over half of our paper boys were a bunch of little pussies, and they began quiting on us. Thank heavens I had my first drivers licence by then. Undaunted Mom had the newspaper fever. She somehow hooked us up with a weekly free paper, called the Spectator, a paper that printed only good news, and lots of advertisements. The Spectator was much smaller than Caren's monster, but they did have a huge two story press that was built in 1932 for the ChicagoTribune It could be the very one you see on youtube! I got lucky, and got a summer job in the Specttator press room, and that is where I learned to make the cap. I can almost smell the acidic fumes from the remelting of the Linotype in the smelter, as well as the odor from those heavy rolls of paper, mixed with the smell of that oily black ink, as I write this. It was hot and sweaty work, but I loved it so!
Two of my dear friends treated me to dinner and a movie this weekend, I was a bit uneasy being out with two wildcats, even tough they were the best of friends with each other, I was very careful to keep my hands to myself. The movie they chose was Nights in Rodanthe. I believe at least one of them think that I favor Richard Gere, the other should know better. I've always considered myself to be much more attractive than Richard, but seeing him do well in life gives me hope for the future, much as the late Paul Newman did with his unique style and,charisma, and I hope to keep all the young girls blushing, as I get ever older. Why settle for less? We should all live our lives to the fullest, and strive always to embrace the world with love, and compassion. In return, you will always be young at heart.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Uh-oh!
It is rare to have the boss chime in, but she had enough of my little pity party. She seems to know me a little too well for comfort, for it is as if she could read my mind. A very unfair advantage, and at the same time I am fortunate that she likes me. She, in her protective kindness, won't even allow this fool to humble his self. The boss blocking every attempt I make, and keeps reinforcing me whenever I try to do so. I often feel like an overly protected child, that can do wrong. It has been that way almost from day one. Many years have passed, yet strange as it may seem after all these years of loyal friendship, we are still not on speaking terms. Ours is a very unique relationship, we never made, or will make demands, to be anymore than what we are. After the first 6 months, I nicknamed her Turtle; for she was in no hurry to be rid of me, yet nor was she set on keeping me as a close friend. However, by this present time, we have a long standing bond of trust that cannot be broken, but it is indeed one for the books. I have never seen the likes of it, and I doubt I will ever see one like it again. Who knows? It just may last another 50 years or more. Indeed, it is really cool, if you just stop, and think about it. She was the first, the very first, person to ever reply to me by e-mail! I may not have the first girl, I ever kissed, I may not have the first girl, I ever danced with, but at least I have something more purer than gold, that has stood the test of time, and will last until the very end.
David Alexander
David Alexander
Sunday, September 21, 2008
I will abide
Having never broken bread with a single soul, on this Internet, is an odd feeling. It means that I have produced nothing of value to make of myself a worthy acquaintance, to anyone. It is a very heavy feeling that grows ever stronger, to the point that. I see no reason to keep on blogging to an empty audience, there is but one living blog linked to me, and the rest are all dead now.
If I have long out lived my usefulness. I have only myself to blame. Having run off all the Christians, even though I do like most of them. I must have put most of the sinners on a guilt trip too, despite the fact, I am one myself.
I surely bummed out the constipated conservatives of all the world's religions; when I accused them of being shakedown artists, and of practising religious idolatry. I ticked off the Republicans, and Democrats, by declaring both parties hopelessly corrupt! Plus I am not always Mr. Sunshine, there is all the gloom and doom, I've been preaching for years, about coming food shortages, revolution, and economic meltdown. Need I say more?
Thanks to Caren, it has been fun, and I have enjoyed the great many marvelous bloggers along the way. For what it is worth, there are many who will be forever dear to me. I did come very close to making a friend, or two, and those good times, are something I will always remember. But after I have smashed their gods, and trampled on their desires, is it any wonder that now I stand alone? There is no doubt I can be offensive, if I have offended you, and it was not on purpose, I do most humbly apologise. All you other young pisspots can just get over it. See!
I'm too much of a kolboynik, and always in a perpetual state of mishegoss, to ever be a rabbi, so just forget it folks.
Yet, something keeps on pushing more and more out of me, I want to spank some Jews most of all, but I know how much that would please the goy. I have a feeling the only way I can do that, is to become a rabbi. No that's not going to happen Mr. Fine. I don't care how much we looked alike.
"A mentsh tracht und G-tt lacht":
A few of us, have taken our own spiritual consecration and tried to make it into a call of G-d, but when we get right with Him He brushes all this aside. Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us. And for one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say, "Here am I! Send me" ( Isaiah 6:8 ).
This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured-out wine. Yet G-d can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us. We say, "If G-d would only use His own fingers, and make me broken bread and poured-out wine in a special way, then I wouldn’t object!" But when He uses someone we dislike, or some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit, to crush us, then we object. Yet we must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed— you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.
I wonder what finger and thumb G-d has been using to squeeze you? Have you been as hard as a marble and escaped? If you are not ripe yet, and if G-d had squeezed you anyway, the wine produced would have been remarkably bitter. To be a holy person means that the elements of our natural life experience the very presence of G-d as they are providentially broken in His service. We have to be placed into G-d and brought into agreement with Him before we can be broken bread in His hands. Stay right with G-d and let Him do as He likes, and you will find that He is producing the kind of bread and wine that will benefit His other children.
IF IT BE YOUR WILL
Bon Jovi--Hallelujah
If I have long out lived my usefulness. I have only myself to blame. Having run off all the Christians, even though I do like most of them. I must have put most of the sinners on a guilt trip too, despite the fact, I am one myself.
I surely bummed out the constipated conservatives of all the world's religions; when I accused them of being shakedown artists, and of practising religious idolatry. I ticked off the Republicans, and Democrats, by declaring both parties hopelessly corrupt! Plus I am not always Mr. Sunshine, there is all the gloom and doom, I've been preaching for years, about coming food shortages, revolution, and economic meltdown. Need I say more?
Thanks to Caren, it has been fun, and I have enjoyed the great many marvelous bloggers along the way. For what it is worth, there are many who will be forever dear to me. I did come very close to making a friend, or two, and those good times, are something I will always remember. But after I have smashed their gods, and trampled on their desires, is it any wonder that now I stand alone? There is no doubt I can be offensive, if I have offended you, and it was not on purpose, I do most humbly apologise. All you other young pisspots can just get over it. See!
I'm too much of a kolboynik, and always in a perpetual state of mishegoss, to ever be a rabbi, so just forget it folks.
Yet, something keeps on pushing more and more out of me, I want to spank some Jews most of all, but I know how much that would please the goy. I have a feeling the only way I can do that, is to become a rabbi. No that's not going to happen Mr. Fine. I don't care how much we looked alike.
"A mentsh tracht und G-tt lacht":
A few of us, have taken our own spiritual consecration and tried to make it into a call of G-d, but when we get right with Him He brushes all this aside. Then He gives us a tremendous, riveting pain to fasten our attention on something that we never even dreamed could be His call for us. And for one radiant, flashing moment we see His purpose, and we say, "Here am I! Send me" ( Isaiah 6:8 ).
This call has nothing to do with personal sanctification, but with being made broken bread and poured-out wine. Yet G-d can never make us into wine if we object to the fingers He chooses to use to crush us. We say, "If G-d would only use His own fingers, and make me broken bread and poured-out wine in a special way, then I wouldn’t object!" But when He uses someone we dislike, or some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit, to crush us, then we object. Yet we must never try to choose the place of our own martyrdom. If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed— you cannot drink grapes. Grapes become wine only when they have been squeezed.
I wonder what finger and thumb G-d has been using to squeeze you? Have you been as hard as a marble and escaped? If you are not ripe yet, and if G-d had squeezed you anyway, the wine produced would have been remarkably bitter. To be a holy person means that the elements of our natural life experience the very presence of G-d as they are providentially broken in His service. We have to be placed into G-d and brought into agreement with Him before we can be broken bread in His hands. Stay right with G-d and let Him do as He likes, and you will find that He is producing the kind of bread and wine that will benefit His other children.
IF IT BE YOUR WILL
Bon Jovi--Hallelujah
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Time for a change II.
Time for a change.
I said this all before, "I am not sure of what it is; but then I am seldom satisfied with myself".
"Even though I can make some people laugh, using the Internet in this way still feels a bit alien to me. I only feel secure when I can fully employ all my physical talents and abilities, something that one can not do here. Though I may never see the day, I must continue to strive for perfection".
"For only when I am able to blog with the best will I ever be content".
HA, piss on perfection! And blog with the best said I? I can forget that!
Alas, to my distress, people are calling me rabbi now.
There is only one Rabbi. And when he speaks only the heart can hear.
Not even I take the proper time away from the world, to listen to my heart.
For my casual idolatry, ti's surely the source of all my heartache and woe. Of all people, Dave, a mensch of comme il faut. Who was once called an old fashioned fuddy duddy, by a very attractive, and worldly young tart; knows what it is like to have someone BIG, to be looking over his shoulder. If having a noble character, is to be called old fashioned, then let it be so.
We run as best we can, but there is no place for us to hide. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin. Yes, Berlin altered my life, I must go back. I love the voice of Leonard, and the older I get, the more he seems like a brother.
I said this all before, "I am not sure of what it is; but then I am seldom satisfied with myself".
"Even though I can make some people laugh, using the Internet in this way still feels a bit alien to me. I only feel secure when I can fully employ all my physical talents and abilities, something that one can not do here. Though I may never see the day, I must continue to strive for perfection".
"For only when I am able to blog with the best will I ever be content".
HA, piss on perfection! And blog with the best said I? I can forget that!
Alas, to my distress, people are calling me rabbi now.
There is only one Rabbi. And when he speaks only the heart can hear.
Not even I take the proper time away from the world, to listen to my heart.
For my casual idolatry, ti's surely the source of all my heartache and woe. Of all people, Dave, a mensch of comme il faut. Who was once called an old fashioned fuddy duddy, by a very attractive, and worldly young tart; knows what it is like to have someone BIG, to be looking over his shoulder. If having a noble character, is to be called old fashioned, then let it be so.
We run as best we can, but there is no place for us to hide. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin. Yes, Berlin altered my life, I must go back. I love the voice of Leonard, and the older I get, the more he seems like a brother.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Emptiness
Only the Lonely bloggers now how I feel tonight.
If you feel the same, just remember who I am. Then perhaps we will dance, yes, Dance Me to the End of Love.
Shalom aleichem.
Hey, it's just mood thing, I'm sure to feel better, after I do my 5 mile run.
For my hard working teacher, I'm going to eat her apple, and make her like it.
If you could read my mind love
If you feel the same, just remember who I am. Then perhaps we will dance, yes, Dance Me to the End of Love.
Shalom aleichem.
Hey, it's just mood thing, I'm sure to feel better, after I do my 5 mile run.
For my hard working teacher, I'm going to eat her apple, and make her like it.
If you could read my mind love
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Judgments to the Side of Merit
Parshas Mishpatim
Judgments to the Side of Merit
By Rabbi Pinchas Winston
Friday Night:
Talk about anti-climactic! Of all the parshios to come after Parashas Yisro, and the spectacular episode of the giving of Torah at Mt. Sinai, why this one? It's so technical, and it talks about laws dealing with slaves, and ...
One of the reasons the commentators give for the laws of slaves coming so close to the giving of the Torah is to remind the Jewish people that freedom means serving G-d, not running away from Him. Another reason they give is to tell the Jewish people, while Egyptian slavery was still fresh in their mind, not to forget what slavery was like and end up mistreating those who may end up serving them.
Another reason for such a technical parsha so close after the Sinai Event might have to do with the way people relate to spirituality, especially today.
People are into experiences. They want to feel what they are going through, and if they can't feel it, then it is not a real experience for them. And if it is not a real experience for them, they'd just as soon pass it up, G-d or no G-d. They don't appreciate that often you have to create your experiences by using your mind.
This is one of the reasons, in the words of one psychologist, why the divorce rate is so high. Sometimes throughout the course of everyday life feelings get confused and even battered by the nerve-wracking stress of daily life. Then the same emotions come home and confront a less-than-perfectly-happy life at home, and feel even more stressed out. As time goes on, people have difficulty feeling love for one other, something that is hard to when you are feeling negative emotions simultaneously.
What they have to do is re-focus themselves on each other's virtues to re-create the proper emotional atmosphere, so the love can return. Sometimes it might mean just getting dressed up and going out for a quiet dinner together, or even just a peaceful walk. Unfortunately, many couples don't realize this and just assume that if the feelings aren't there, neither is the relationship.
The same is true when it comes to the religious "experience." People want to feel loved all the time; they want to feel "up" on an ongoing basis. In the words of one woman who wanted to abandon Torah, "Judaism just doesn't work for me, so I'm going to try something else."
Judgments to the Side of Merit
By Rabbi Pinchas Winston
Friday Night:
Talk about anti-climactic! Of all the parshios to come after Parashas Yisro, and the spectacular episode of the giving of Torah at Mt. Sinai, why this one? It's so technical, and it talks about laws dealing with slaves, and ...
One of the reasons the commentators give for the laws of slaves coming so close to the giving of the Torah is to remind the Jewish people that freedom means serving G-d, not running away from Him. Another reason they give is to tell the Jewish people, while Egyptian slavery was still fresh in their mind, not to forget what slavery was like and end up mistreating those who may end up serving them.
Another reason for such a technical parsha so close after the Sinai Event might have to do with the way people relate to spirituality, especially today.
People are into experiences. They want to feel what they are going through, and if they can't feel it, then it is not a real experience for them. And if it is not a real experience for them, they'd just as soon pass it up, G-d or no G-d. They don't appreciate that often you have to create your experiences by using your mind.
This is one of the reasons, in the words of one psychologist, why the divorce rate is so high. Sometimes throughout the course of everyday life feelings get confused and even battered by the nerve-wracking stress of daily life. Then the same emotions come home and confront a less-than-perfectly-happy life at home, and feel even more stressed out. As time goes on, people have difficulty feeling love for one other, something that is hard to when you are feeling negative emotions simultaneously.
What they have to do is re-focus themselves on each other's virtues to re-create the proper emotional atmosphere, so the love can return. Sometimes it might mean just getting dressed up and going out for a quiet dinner together, or even just a peaceful walk. Unfortunately, many couples don't realize this and just assume that if the feelings aren't there, neither is the relationship.
The same is true when it comes to the religious "experience." People want to feel loved all the time; they want to feel "up" on an ongoing basis. In the words of one woman who wanted to abandon Torah, "Judaism just doesn't work for me, so I'm going to try something else."
My sleep post from TAB's blog
Caren, you have said many times that I am a good writer, and I thank you for your kind charity. However give me two days without sleep, and I am not a very good writer! Heck it still stinks, and needs more work, but at least it is not as stupid as it was. I don't care what Fare Well, and the others think. Just so you know I have not lost my mind, all I need is SLEEP!
It would not be easy for a blogger to have a closer relationship to Katrina. She shares so little information about her cloistered life. Unlike the Blogett, who was so open and easy to understand. Katrina is difficult for many of us to fathom. And her unusual behavior reeks so much,of insecurity, what we know of her is so limited, that she appears at times, almost cartoonish, yet she is no coward, being not afraid to take the lead and will stand up and fight for whatever she believes. these are attributes of an alpha female, who is in dire need of some positive self-esteem reinforcement. She maybe too shy to start a blog, but she is a true TAB girl. I have no idea of how anyone but TAB, could be of help to her. It was good for all of us to have a common gathering place. Many of us have come here often just to vent, or escape; if only for a while, from life's unpleasantries, and pain. Katrina charged in from the cold, and into our lives for a reason.
We should try to understand, for we all seek good companionship, and a kind heart.
It would not be easy for a blogger to have a closer relationship to Katrina. She shares so little information about her cloistered life. Unlike the Blogett, who was so open and easy to understand. Katrina is difficult for many of us to fathom. And her unusual behavior reeks so much,of insecurity, what we know of her is so limited, that she appears at times, almost cartoonish, yet she is no coward, being not afraid to take the lead and will stand up and fight for whatever she believes. these are attributes of an alpha female, who is in dire need of some positive self-esteem reinforcement. She maybe too shy to start a blog, but she is a true TAB girl. I have no idea of how anyone but TAB, could be of help to her. It was good for all of us to have a common gathering place. Many of us have come here often just to vent, or escape; if only for a while, from life's unpleasantries, and pain. Katrina charged in from the cold, and into our lives for a reason.
We should try to understand, for we all seek good companionship, and a kind heart.
Monday, September 08, 2008
A wife of noble character
More precious than bright rubies is,
A wife of noble character,
And he who searches well will find,
He nothing lacks with her.
Full confident he is that she,
Will do him ever good not harm,
With eager hands she serves his need,
His ardor with her charm.
And wool and flax for children's garb.
That clothed in raiment they might be,
Are neatly spun by distaff and,
Full spindle on her knee.
She brings from ports afar her goods,
And sweet the table that she lays,
Which, early rising, she prepares,
And loving care betrays.
And portions for her servant girls,
Are never lacking for she knows,
With willing hearts they serve the home,
And much to them she owes.
She wisely trades and profit gains,
Then ponders well a distant field,
Exploring reasons for, against,
And buys it for its yield.
And with her earnings then she plants,
A vineyard on its gentle slopes,
And for a harvest rich and full,
She confidently hopes.
Her arms for all her tasks are strong,
Her work with love and vigor done,
Her lamp burns long through many'a night,
Beyond the setting sun.
The poor are welcomed to her home,
And leave not unattended for,
'Tis known by all that none has e'er,
In vain approached her door.
And winter? Little fear she has,
Of swirling wind or stabbing cold,
For all her children scarlet-clad,
Its wondrous sights behold.
Her bed is overlaid 'gainst chill,
And clothed in linen garments fine,
She greets her husband, proud, content,
And sits with him to dine.
And he, when seated at the gates,
With those who in the city dwell,
Finds high regard mongst elders there,
From friend and foe as well.
Both strength and dignity are hers,
As wisely she her part displays,
Her care for household matters such,
She laughs at evil days.
Her children rise and call her blest,
For by her love they prosper well,
Her husband, too, in joyous voice,
Waits not her praise to tell.
"Of women found throughout the land,
Who noble deeds are wont to do,
For all your works and all you are,
None have compared with you."
Now charm misleads the heart of man,
And beauty graces but the young,
Yet she who fears the Lord, in truth,
Her praise will e'er be sung.
And gather, then, both one and all,
Where'er 'tis fitting that we be,
To praise this woman, mother, wife,
In seemly, apt degree.
Put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
And go out to the car and change the tire
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
Come on, baby
You can fill my pipe and then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you’re leaving me
Now don’t I let you wash the car on Sunday
Don’t I warn you when you’re getting fat
Ain’t I gonna take you fishin’ with me someday
Well, a man can’t love a woman more than that
Ain’t I always nice to your kid sister
Don’t I take her driving every night
So sit here at my feet
‘Cause I like you when you’re sweet
And you know it ain’t feminine to fight
So put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
Go out to the car and lift it up and change the tire
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
C’mon, baby
You can fill my pipe and then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you’re leaving me
(johnph46)
A wife of noble character,
And he who searches well will find,
He nothing lacks with her.
Full confident he is that she,
Will do him ever good not harm,
With eager hands she serves his need,
His ardor with her charm.
And wool and flax for children's garb.
That clothed in raiment they might be,
Are neatly spun by distaff and,
Full spindle on her knee.
She brings from ports afar her goods,
And sweet the table that she lays,
Which, early rising, she prepares,
And loving care betrays.
And portions for her servant girls,
Are never lacking for she knows,
With willing hearts they serve the home,
And much to them she owes.
She wisely trades and profit gains,
Then ponders well a distant field,
Exploring reasons for, against,
And buys it for its yield.
And with her earnings then she plants,
A vineyard on its gentle slopes,
And for a harvest rich and full,
She confidently hopes.
Her arms for all her tasks are strong,
Her work with love and vigor done,
Her lamp burns long through many'a night,
Beyond the setting sun.
The poor are welcomed to her home,
And leave not unattended for,
'Tis known by all that none has e'er,
In vain approached her door.
And winter? Little fear she has,
Of swirling wind or stabbing cold,
For all her children scarlet-clad,
Its wondrous sights behold.
Her bed is overlaid 'gainst chill,
And clothed in linen garments fine,
She greets her husband, proud, content,
And sits with him to dine.
And he, when seated at the gates,
With those who in the city dwell,
Finds high regard mongst elders there,
From friend and foe as well.
Both strength and dignity are hers,
As wisely she her part displays,
Her care for household matters such,
She laughs at evil days.
Her children rise and call her blest,
For by her love they prosper well,
Her husband, too, in joyous voice,
Waits not her praise to tell.
"Of women found throughout the land,
Who noble deeds are wont to do,
For all your works and all you are,
None have compared with you."
Now charm misleads the heart of man,
And beauty graces but the young,
Yet she who fears the Lord, in truth,
Her praise will e'er be sung.
And gather, then, both one and all,
Where'er 'tis fitting that we be,
To praise this woman, mother, wife,
In seemly, apt degree.
Put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
And go out to the car and change the tire
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
Come on, baby
You can fill my pipe and then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you’re leaving me
Now don’t I let you wash the car on Sunday
Don’t I warn you when you’re getting fat
Ain’t I gonna take you fishin’ with me someday
Well, a man can’t love a woman more than that
Ain’t I always nice to your kid sister
Don’t I take her driving every night
So sit here at my feet
‘Cause I like you when you’re sweet
And you know it ain’t feminine to fight
So put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
Go out to the car and lift it up and change the tire
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
C’mon, baby
You can fill my pipe and then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you’re leaving me
(johnph46)
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Katherine Mansfield at the Prieuré
My first conversation with O[uspensky] took place on August 30, 1922.
On that occasion I began by telling him how dissatisfied I was with the idea that Life must be a lesser thing than we were capable of imagining it to be. I had the feeling that the same thing happened to nearly everybody whom I knew and whom I did not know. No sooner was their youth, with the little force and impetus characteristic of youth, done, then they stopped growing. At the very moment that one felt that now was the time to gather oneself together, to use one’s whole strength, to take control, to be an adult, in fact, they seemed content to swap the darling wish of their hearts for innumerable little wishes. Or the image that suggested itself to me was that of a river flowing away in countless little trickles over a dark swamp.
They deceived themselves, of course. They called this trickling away—greater tolerance—wider interests—a sense of proportion—so that work did not rule out the possibility of ‘life.’ Or they called it an escape from all this mind-probing and self-consciousness—a simpler and therefore a better way of life. But sooner or later, in literature at any rate, there sounded an undertone of deep regret. There was an uneasiness, a sense of frustration. One heard, one thought one heard, the cry that began to echo in one’s own being: “I have missed it. I have given up. This is not what I want. If this is all, then Life is not worth living.”
But I know it is not all. How does one know that? Let me take the case of K. M. She has led, ever since she can remember, a very typically false life. Yet, through it all, there have been moments, instants, gleams, when she has felt the possibility of something quite other.
September 30
“Do you know what individuality is?”
“No.”
“Consciousness of will. To be conscious that you have a will and can act.”
Yes, it is. It’s a glorious saying.
*THIS IS THE KIND OF WOMAN I'VE SEARCHED FOR ALL MY LIFE!*
On that occasion I began by telling him how dissatisfied I was with the idea that Life must be a lesser thing than we were capable of imagining it to be. I had the feeling that the same thing happened to nearly everybody whom I knew and whom I did not know. No sooner was their youth, with the little force and impetus characteristic of youth, done, then they stopped growing. At the very moment that one felt that now was the time to gather oneself together, to use one’s whole strength, to take control, to be an adult, in fact, they seemed content to swap the darling wish of their hearts for innumerable little wishes. Or the image that suggested itself to me was that of a river flowing away in countless little trickles over a dark swamp.
They deceived themselves, of course. They called this trickling away—greater tolerance—wider interests—a sense of proportion—so that work did not rule out the possibility of ‘life.’ Or they called it an escape from all this mind-probing and self-consciousness—a simpler and therefore a better way of life. But sooner or later, in literature at any rate, there sounded an undertone of deep regret. There was an uneasiness, a sense of frustration. One heard, one thought one heard, the cry that began to echo in one’s own being: “I have missed it. I have given up. This is not what I want. If this is all, then Life is not worth living.”
But I know it is not all. How does one know that? Let me take the case of K. M. She has led, ever since she can remember, a very typically false life. Yet, through it all, there have been moments, instants, gleams, when she has felt the possibility of something quite other.
September 30
“Do you know what individuality is?”
“No.”
“Consciousness of will. To be conscious that you have a will and can act.”
Yes, it is. It’s a glorious saying.
*THIS IS THE KIND OF WOMAN I'VE SEARCHED FOR ALL MY LIFE!*
Friday, September 05, 2008
Paradox of love
This paradox of love, has been on my mind since I made the last post. It seems at times love can come and flourish from nothing, and yet love can be like a delicate rose. A living entity that must have attention and nourishment to grow an survive.
I found a new love, though she has been dead for over 85 years, she reminds me a little of Sarah. I mixed in some of her quotes below, see if you can guess who she is.
I am treating you as my friend, asking you to share my present minuses in the hope I can ask you to share my future pluses. I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing. The more you are motivated by love, the more fearless and free your actions will be. Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinion of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth
The paradox of love, i.e., The more love you want to experience, the more love you must give away. We all seek love; we all want to be loved. And yet love can only be ours if we give it to others. The more we give, the greater is the return. Trying to control or possess love is like trying to hold onto a sunbeam. It cannot be done
If only one could tell true love from false love as one can tell mushrooms from toadstools. With mushrooms it is so simple — you salt them well, put them aside and have patience. But with love, you have no sooner lighted on anything that bears even the remotest resemblance to it than you are perfectly certain it is not only a genuine specimen, but perhaps the only genuine mushroom ungathered.
"Love and Mushrooms," journal entry (1917),
There is nothing in this world like the feeling of knowing without a doubt, that somebody loves you!
I found a new love, though she has been dead for over 85 years, she reminds me a little of Sarah. I mixed in some of her quotes below, see if you can guess who she is.
I am treating you as my friend, asking you to share my present minuses in the hope I can ask you to share my future pluses. I always felt that the great high privilege, relief and comfort of friendship was that one had to explain nothing. The more you are motivated by love, the more fearless and free your actions will be. Risk! Risk anything! Care no more for the opinion of others, for those voices. Do the hardest thing on earth for you. Act for yourself. Face the truth
The paradox of love, i.e., The more love you want to experience, the more love you must give away. We all seek love; we all want to be loved. And yet love can only be ours if we give it to others. The more we give, the greater is the return. Trying to control or possess love is like trying to hold onto a sunbeam. It cannot be done
If only one could tell true love from false love as one can tell mushrooms from toadstools. With mushrooms it is so simple — you salt them well, put them aside and have patience. But with love, you have no sooner lighted on anything that bears even the remotest resemblance to it than you are perfectly certain it is not only a genuine specimen, but perhaps the only genuine mushroom ungathered.
"Love and Mushrooms," journal entry (1917),
There is nothing in this world like the feeling of knowing without a doubt, that somebody loves you!
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
American Beauty
My most dependable friends have been women, but then again, my most fickle of friends have all been women too. One must choose his consorts wisely, I look for the things I admire most in a woman. An intrepid heart, an audacious spirit, a clever mind. As well as love and loyalty; two vital pillars that must be earned, and can never just be demanded. There are few that can compare with Sarah. I find her to be the most appetent of all. Sarah has suffered long with me, indeed she has been exceedingly steadfast, ignoring my little tantrums, and brash behavior. She is remarkably intuitive, having no idea what I look like, and yet she has great faith in me. I must admit that this wonderful lady, is my most mysterious enigma, out of all those who care for me.
I Love Women
Too often they are taken for granted as inferior, in this male dominated world. Every mother, every daughter, is a unique gift from G-d.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (November 5, 1850–October 30, 1919).
American Poet. (I see a good song in this, if I could remember how to read music).
Solitude:
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For this brave old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Solitude
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Solitude
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Solitude
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Settle the Question Right.
Here, on this side of the grave,
Here, should we labor and love.
Here and Now
So many gods, so many creeds;
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.
The World's Need
You never can tell when you do an act
Just what the result will be;
But with every deed you are sowing a seed,
Though the harvest you may not see.
Each kindly act is an acorn dropped
In God's productive soil;
You may not know, yet the tree shall grow
And shelter the brows that toil.
You never can tell what your thoughts will do
In bringing you hate or love;
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings
Are swifter than carrier doves.
They follow the law of the universe—
Each thing must create its kind;
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back
Whatever went out from your mind.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox (November 5, 1850–October 30, 1919).
American Poet. (I see a good song in this, if I could remember how to read music).
Solitude:
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For this brave old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Solitude
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Solitude
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Solitude
No question is ever settled
Until it is settled right.
Settle the Question Right.
Here, on this side of the grave,
Here, should we labor and love.
Here and Now
So many gods, so many creeds;
So many paths that wind and wind,
While just the art of being kind
Is all the sad world needs.
The World's Need
You never can tell when you do an act
Just what the result will be;
But with every deed you are sowing a seed,
Though the harvest you may not see.
Each kindly act is an acorn dropped
In God's productive soil;
You may not know, yet the tree shall grow
And shelter the brows that toil.
You never can tell what your thoughts will do
In bringing you hate or love;
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings
Are swifter than carrier doves.
They follow the law of the universe—
Each thing must create its kind;
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back
Whatever went out from your mind.
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