Monday, September 08, 2014

In the absence of sound, scattered words remain

The words still come out of my fingers,
though my sick throat constricts
their timely exit from tightened lips.
Great ideas in mind still stew and linger.

Someday the mental darts will find their mark,
but until then they must endure a momentary lark.
The fingers crab-scratch them out on paper's stark
white surfaces for later use as authorial sparks.

No cold virus can forever prevent thoughts
from propagating over an unwary audience;
Though give reprieve in response to suppliance –
but the piper will still be paid, eyeballs still caught.

The weary author pauses in his vindictive script,
ponders which potion will relieve the onslaught –
send mouthwash or cold pills to the viral battlefront?
Some Gelcaps get gulped without another thought.

Back to tickling the keys and torturing the eyes,
keep typing and delay a potential poetic demise.

     - end

Saturday, September 06, 2014

World Wars are a Bug's Grocery Store

In 1914, young men marched off to become bloody hamburger for god and country, in a horrific world war.

In 2014, young men are being sent off to become bloody hamburger for god and country.

Nothing much seems to have changed in the last century.

Except that the insects still feed well when thing go awry.

Perhaps those insects are behind all the jihads and territorial grabs.

They know no beliefs, have no concept of an afterlife, hold no moral positions.
They just know that when the humans kill each other, the eating is good.

Maybe a thought for the day might be,

“Get along with your neighbors, and starve a bug or two today.”

     - end

Friday, September 05, 2014

All your friends are doing it

So why not experiment yourself?  Find out more here:

Thx for taking a look-see.

Thursday, September 04, 2014

Psst - can we talk

You know, a lot of people have been disappearing lately. Hollywood stars, famous CEO's, even cypherpunk programmers. Every single one added something to our society in one way or another, and their lights will be missed, even as other “lights” flare up to take their place.

      The continuing reminder of our mortality is sure persistent. It just seems to run in spurts or waves. When yet another batch of famous and beloved folks leave us, it hurts – a part of me dies with them. Just wonder how much will be left and for how long.

      The urgency to do something, anything picks up in intensity. Even as the physical powers fade, the mental voices seem to multiply. And yet the need to pause and relax and reflect is no less important. No wonder time picks up speed with each succeeding year. We are so busy trying to be all we can be, and reflect on our being. Wishing one and all many good times ahead.

- end

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

RD-180 part two

…But having mulled over the facts I have to back off of my earlier fury some. “Our side” has produced the Saturn V F-1 engines, after all. Five of these pushed astronauts and hardware all the way to the Moon. Not only did we get them back, but in succeeding missions we even sent a moon buggy to drive around the lunar surface. That in addition to the lunar lander and Apollo service craft. We made it several times, and then built the Skylab. A booster stage was used as housing for a capacious station, sent up in one flight.

Today we have the Delta-IV heavy, which can throw quite a bit of weight into orbit. There are also the solid rocket boosters which flew the shuttle, and can be re-purposed for other craft. If we ever get the Space Launch System built, that will be an enormous booster, possibly bigger even than the Saturn V. Our side has accomplished a lot too – and made mistakes, just as the Russians have.

Fair is fair. Enough of this subject. Thanks for reading.

Sunday, August 17, 2014


So far the fall of the once exalted,
our technological wunderkind thought
so superior in so many ways. Humbled
by a simpler engine design producing more power.

The so-called backwards industrial power of Russia
came up with a rocket technology so far ahead,
we still do not have anything like it. Even today,
the Russians have more powerful rockets than us.

Our distracted, cellphone-glued society can stay
oblivious as long as we want. But we are being
surpassed and bested on the world stage.
In a state that refuses to go along with a
national education standard, instead turning
out religious-ideological lockstep copycats...

Perhaps we deserve to be bested, lost as we are
in the illusion of our own superiority. Blinded
to the necessity of hardware and engineering hard work –
we instead disparage science and research, and follow
the cultural dictates of our new Chinese masters.
And we keep buying Russian rockets, unable to muster
the will to even design anything ourselves anymore.


Thursday, August 14, 2014

Disco 2000 NYC

They found a way to be free,
Partying all night and getting paid;
it was a club-funded drug spree,
For those bodies it was easy to get laid.

Outrageous costumes to outdo each other,
Cutting catty remarks their casual chat,
They forged careers out of party matter.
Sex was their first and last fringe benefit.

The “piper still had to be paid,”
skittish club owners placated,
Police scrutiny dodged or avoided,
Drug dealers paid (or laid) off.

The final outcome was predictable,
Murder and addiction took their toll;
Casual barbarism seemed despicable
From these kids dressed up as trolls.

Some clubbers used up their fame fast,
Best years spent, their lives soon crashed.

     - end