In Pursuit of Excellence

Most of us seek a higher goal of one kind or another. We are in pursuit of a particular kind of excellence – excellence to improve our lot, and the lot of those we love. Whether it be in our careers, or a particular hobby, to achieve excellence and success is what most of us desire.

One does not become excellent at any pursuit without some sacrifice. You cannot climb Mt. Everest with only a weeks' training. You don't start a business and get to the million-dollar mark in a month. Every meaningful college degree is gotten only with many hours of study, years of classes and the like. A very high degree of achievement takes a lot of work, let's face it.

But of course, it pays off. The one percenters running our world did not all have it handed to them. Many had to work their way up the ladder, rung by painful rung. They had to go where their bosses wanted, do what they were told, perhaps take more schooling on the side. The ones who persevered, and maybe had luck on their side as well, made it to the top. Luck may play a role, but luck alone will not produce excellent results. Hard work can in effect create its own luck too.

So, here are a few ideas on pursuing and achieving excellence in whatever you set out to do.

Work on your desired outcome or objective every day. Don't let anything stand in your way, either. If there is some emergency, handle it, and then get back to your goal as soon as possible. You have to want it so bad that it burns in your gut, and does not leave you alone. Then, let nothing stand in your way.

If you are exhausted, or frustrated, and just want to hang it up for the day. Or if you want to table or scrap your project, do this first: Follow the one more time rule. My father told me this in a roundabout way, by suggesting once, “You don't want to play just one more game?”

Follow the one more rule: Do it one more time. Go over your project or proposal one more time. Practice one more swing. Everything happens one thing at a time. Be determined to go beyond – to do it just 'one more time.' You don't have millions and multitudes all at once in you. But you can do it just one more time. So do it. One. More. Time.

Take good care of yourself. You are all you ultimately have, all you were born with, all you will die with. Take care of your physical and emotional health, as though you were your own loved one. You are worth it. You are ultimately all you have in this world. Treat yourself kindly, with respect, and like royalty. You deserve it, and you are worth it.

Keep a tight grip on your finances, as much as possible. Finances have to come first. Face it, we all live in a capitalist, money-driven society these days. Money has to be managed, or it will manage you. You manage it, and keep control of your destiny.

Good relationships are a tonic for the soul, and a high motivator. Try and cultivate a few friendships, especially in your chosen field. Inviting a colleague out for dinner or coffee can pay rich dividends in morale and information both. And try to keep in mind, it is not really that difficult to be nice to people. And it is well worth the effort.

Make a master goal board, and set your goals a few years out. Then, break them down into smaller pieces. For example: Participate in a major golf tournament, time five years. Minor tourneys, in one year. Drive five buckets of balls, five days a week. Every month play at least ten 18-hole games. And so forth.

Re-assess and re-work your goals on occasion. Excellence recognizes that fate throws us ugly curves at times. As excellently-designed human beings, we can ADAPT and re-configure ourselves and our goals. Adapt, change direction if need be, and go on. Let nothing stop you, nothing defeat you on your journey to excellence in your field.

Routine and ritual can help keep you on track. Saturday is golf day. Monday, Wednesday and Friday are weight room day. Sunday is church, or cleaning day, or whatever. And every day, you can take a moment to think, what have I done to push myself towards excellence in my desired pursuit? A regular routine can simplify the process of getting from here to excellence.

Good luck in all your pursuits, and thanks for reading.

Earth to Robinson, do you copy?

From 1964 to the Present Time

     Here am I, sitting in the easy chair, turning on Netflix. My Smart TV pulls down thousands of IP packets, and paints me a trip back, down memory lane. It is around 1964, and the hot new movie out is called “Robinson Crusoe on Mars.” A human crew consisting of two astronauts, crammed into what looks like a large, yellow Gemini craft. Existing on tubes of food paste. They have made the long trip to Mars, on good spirits, cheerful to the last. A soft orchestral tune plays in the background. They realize a huge meteor is going to hit them. They fire retros to avoid it, but end up in a degraded orbit. Each has to land their personal capsule on the bleak Martian surface.

     It goes on from there, and in my opinion, it is kind of engaging, even now. Takes me back to a time when all we had were capsules, test chimps and high hopes. Of course, by 1964, we had concluded the Mercury program, so we had some experience in low Earth orbit. But the Moon still beckoned distant, and it would be five more years before we landed – Neil and Buzz stepping onto the powdery surface.

     Still, we had space fever then. You could see it in popular culture, and feel it in the air. We were flying test planes ever higher in the stratosphere, soaring in fact as well as in dreams. It is easy to understand the enthusiasm felt by, say, the Chinese and Indians now regarding space, when you look at how we were in those days.

     As I flash through memories to the present, it can be gratifying. Our successful Moon landings. The first station, Skylab. Then a long hiatus before the Shuttle flew. But when it did, what a sight that was. Our first real re-usable spaceship, that landed like a plane. It lofted many satellites and labs, and staged dramatic capture and repair of some platforms. Culminating, of course, in the construction of the International Space Station - a wonder unto itself.  Even though it took a long time to “turn it around” the sight of shuttles were always enjoyable, and gave one the feeling of a true “Spaceliner” .

     But they were also enormously expensive, and it came out later, some engines had to be entirely re-built between missions. Some of them were like totally re-built or 'new' spacecraft. Not as re-usable as we thought, and they cost a lot more. But still, we built them, we did it, and we learned. NASA was always trying to improve and uprate the engines, or it looked that way to me. I mourn the loss of the shuttles. Just hope our private industry companies can begin to match that engineering excellence shown by those NASA teams.

       Anyway, this rant is not about that. I just enjoyed the trip back in memory lane to those hope-filled, analog, toggle switch, metallic frame 1960's days. We would build our way to the Moon if we had to hammer every rivet in ourselves. And we did. Where did that spirit go?

      Robinson Crusoe on Mars. Maybe it is time for a Robinson Crusoe on Beta Centauri. Thanks for reading.

    -end

 

A strange week

It has been one around here.  The Younkers fire - then the revelations of secret payments of hush money to former state employees.  We celebrated the fifth anniversary of legalizing Gay Marriage in Iowa.   Our supreme court made a completely impartial decision, and got thrown out for their efforts.  But, progress has been made.  Not to mention high winds, blizzards and other assorted crazy weather.  Winter would not let go.   But now it is Saturday, the sun is out, and it is supposed to reach the 50's F. this afternoon.   The horse show next door ought to do well today.  We shall see what the next week brings  :-)  

strange link

here it is:  www.createspace.com/4281639  

Dissapearing Act

The two policemen sat stoically across a natural wood table from their main suspect. Old-fashioned steel manacles kept his hands and feet safely contained. He had been searched repeatedly.

“Interview with suspect Randall Crane, March 5, 2029, 10:00 A.M. Begin Record,” said one of the cops, named Bernie Halpin. He leaned back, and stared at Randall. Randall, a wiry man with a mop of brown hair, looked dwarfed by the too-large jail duds he wore. He returned the stare.

The other cop, Gregg Mackintosh, continued to speak. “Well, Randy, care to tell us what happened?”

“I have nothing to hide, officer,” Randy said with a snicker. The two cops shifted uncomfortably.

“Just tell us what took place from your perspective,” said Det. Gregg.

“Easy. When your guy was chasing me, I did the only thing I could; sent a drain code to kill his phone.”

“You did more than that. How did you make his clothes dissolve.”

“Clothes? I didn't know anything about that. Just sent the codes so his phone would dissolve.”

Bernie growled. “Quit lying, dirtbag, and this will go easier for you.”

“What's the matter, didn't you want the world to see that banana tattoo?” said Randy, and chuckled.

“Let me hit him, just once – please?” said Bernie to Gregg. Gregg held him back with a hand, and said, “Please, let me handle this.”

“So somehow you dusted his clothes, or one of your friends did.”

“I guess someone must have,” said Randy. “I would have gotten away, if the partner hadn't been following so close. But it was not me.”

Gregg scowled; “Not you. But you know who? Tell us all and we can offer you a reduced sentence. Otherwise, you are looking at twenty-plus years of hard time.” Gregg and Bernie both stared at Randy.

“I'm sorry, officers, but the only thing worse than hard time is snitching out your friends. I will admit to draining your phone only. I did nothing else. That is all I have to say.”

“You piece of shit. Interview is over, take him away,” said Bernie. Gregg just nodded. A uniformed officer opened the door to the interview room and took Randy back to his cell.

The two sat a moment. Gregg softly asked, “Do you mind just going through it one more time for me, so it is clear in my head what happened.”

Bernie sighed, but relented. “Well, I was following him through the Citymall atrium, and he caught on somehow. He sped up, and so did I. I got my phone out to alert my partner. But the damned thing quit on me, and then it dissolved in my hand. Randy triggered the drain program somehow – on the run, no less.”

“Probably via his wrist cell. Go on.”

“You know the rest. I chased him out the door and down the block, before I noticed my shoes turning into sticky goo. So I shucked them, and tried to pursue barefoot. Then my goddamned clothes began to dissolve. I mean they shredded right off me. Do you know how humiliating that was?”

“I'm sorry for you, Bernie. And right in front of all the city cameras too.” Gregg managed to keep a straight face.

“The only thing I held onto was my badge and car keys. By then, the guy had run up the block and disappeared. My partner came up, and I told him where. Lucky for us there was another team watching. They caught the guy trying to get in to an old warehouse.”

“Yeah, his own people locked him out. How about that, and he won't even tell on them,” said Gregg.

“My partner gave me his jacket, at least. But before I got back to our vehicle, that was dissolving too. Some of the duster chemicals must have stuck to my skin. Luckily they didn't harm me. Yuck. I finally showered them off.”

“And when we got into the warehouse, the gang was gone. Not a trace. Weird,” said Gregg.

Bernie shrugged. “Well, what the heck. We got Randy there. That will put a dent into the theft ring. And he is in a metal-and-concrete cell. I'd like to see them try and dissolve that!”

Gregg was forming the thought to say, “don't underestimate these guys...” when the noise said it for him. Rumbling explosions, crashing masonry. The two men dived under the table to avoid the mayhem, but they were injured anyway.

With much masonry dissolved by conventional high explosives, the team of four heavily-armed criminals swarmed in and quickly rescued their leader. Before taking off, one of them sprinkled a little dust over the table where the two men were sprawled.

“See if they can follow us naked again,” he snickered.

The End    (c) 2014 Mike Wilson

(Researchers at Iowa State University recently discovered a process for manufacturing dissolvable electronics - reported on local news, and where the idea for this comes from).

Time

Time

The 21-year-old me might not be happy,

since that million-dollar mark was missed.
But he would have to admit, I kept busy,
traded years to cross things off the 'bucket list.'

Perhaps I could be nicer,

perhaps I could smile more;
Subject to frailties and errors,
Mistakes and missteps galore.

Years to my fifties bought a lot of memories --

Hopefully by my seventies I will feel ahead,
more good will come despite random vagaries,
mostly satisfied, unless, of course I am dead.

But the most important things are people,

those wonderful souls who walk by my side;
Patient companions friendly and conversable,
we share experience as down time's lanes we ride.

Time's passage need not be some horror,
with you by my side, the journey is a pleasure.

- end
 

 

 

A Lost Downtown Icon

Back in the day “Once upon a time”

window shoppers strolled past this icon,
gazed in at ever-changing fashionable displays,
Or perhaps ducked in to browse the latest styles.

Some rode the modern escalator to the

mezzanine for more bargains to see.
Others visited the Tea Room to catch
up on the latest morsels from high society.

Then the inevitable curtain drop,

an inglorious ending to a special place.
The Younker Brothers emporium had
to bow to twin fates: buyout and change.

Even though it sat empty for several years,

valiant rescue efforts had seemed to succeed.
A conversion to apartments and retail shops,
metamorphosis to a future that honored the past.

Some casual cruel fire ended those dreams today,

Three-alarm blaze burned Des Moines hopes away.

We will clean up the mess and recover, to be sure;

Remember, make those new projects fire-insured.


     - end

Anything goes here

www.4chan.org   

Not for the kiddos here.

Poetry title

www.createspace.com/4113022

Enjoy!

She Knows

Some old poetry for today.

She Knows

Avoids my footsteps,

squeaks submissive at my approach.
Follows and darts and meows just so.
“Feed me, take care of me, love me.”

I clumsily do my very best,

she rewards me with purring affection.
Her only discipline the butt and tail
in my face treatment.
Comes at the oddest times.

Cold winter days progress one by one,

she snuggles on the bed faithfully.
I am with you now no matter what,
she seems to purr at me.


Come the warm summer I learn the truth:
I was but a temporary respite.
Now she wants to be on her own,
left completely alone.

She doesn't realize I hold the trump card:

Cranked-up A/C.
She decides maybe my lap is worth
another try after all.
Hah!

- end

The things people do to pass the time these days

http://www.michaelaligclubkids.com/

Drugs are still not the answer

Strange Stuff

A Strange Enterprise   is only 6 bucks now.

www.createspace.com/4281639

Video is not the greatest, but still

Some of this sh** is funny.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubfEZkg4bdE

Yesterdays coffee=tomorrows coffee

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEtBs-RKxCA

Interesting video about water treatment on the ISS .

A Unique Place

Downtown Des Moines is the place to be,

with many new and appealing attractions;
Brimming with activities for you and me.

Lots of things there are absolutely free,

Sculpture displays to tour to your satisfaction;
Downtown Des Moines is the place to be.

The skywalks offer a different vantage to see

our city's unique architectural dimensions;
Brimming with excitement for you and me.

The new social club has events to bring glee,

hot bands and live theater to grab attention;
Downtown Des Moines is the place to be.

Performing arts arenas liven up the scene,

National teams and acts get a good reception;
Packed with excitement for you and me.

East village places to welcome a shopping spree,

humorous and exotic arts to tickle the perception;
Downtown Des Moines is the place to be.
Full of fun things to do for you and me.

-end

 

Once more, with Feeling!

The links to some of my latest works for you to enjoy:

Poetry book - www.createspace.com/4113022

Future Property - speculative fiction - www.createspace.com/3859469

A Strange Enterprise - spec science fiction - www.createspace.com/4281639

Thank you very much for taking a look.

questions

What if the Russians held a war and nobody showed up?

Where do you hide an enormous jetliner?

Why does the Dow go up, but everyone's sense of well-being stays down low?

Why do things seem so different at the opposite end of the aging telescope? 

Questions, questions permeate my mind.
Elusive answers so hard to find --
Life anymore does not make much sense
I try real hard, that is my biggest defense.

Really want to do right and harm no one.
Really get tired of clouds and desire the sun.
Food and shelter my main blessing to count,
Friendship and fun bonus to make me shout.

Friday is almost here and I am still alive,
healthy and wallet-full enough to thrive.
Look out, I still walk the corridors of time,
Leave me alone, everything will be fine.

Springtime is coming - finally!

The Robins keep saying that spring is coming,

The sky dumps more snow to quiet them down.
Below-zero shivers give way to sun shining,
Yielding to Earths inevitable tilt around.

More hours of daylight gently remind

us that better days surely lie ahead.
Rabbits do a dance and squirrels start to climb.
other creatures peer out with sun-warmed heads.

The state legislature swings into high gear,

Heatedly debating some controversial bills;
Common sense and acumen aren't very clear
judging by the accusations thrown on the hill.

We know we will have made it to warmer seasons,

when grass greens up, and spring bulbs bloom aplenty;
Hot vitriol has vented, legislators given last reasons,
Laws passed, innocent protected, justice meted to guilty.

     - end

 

correction

The review site I posted should have read as follows:

http://kitmossreviews.blogspot.com

Thanks for taking a look.

More exciting sites

Check these out, from a prolific LGBT author/reviewer with many years of experience:

www.speakitsname.com
 and the review site
kitmossreveiws.com

Enjoy!

New titles available

Be sure and check out these new books.  

www.smashwords.com/books/view/413457    - Four short stories for only 99 cents.

www.createspace.com/4661301     - Science Fiction novelette, very unique. 

Thanks for reading and have a great day.

Be grateful - a flashfic

“And the Lord said, Behold! The land is complete and it is just and good...” The priest droned on.

Jebbudah let the words flow over his tired, sweating body. He was being allowed to sit, and there was even a bit of shade. The water maiden was seated for the time being, but thirst was not too overpowering. He rested, and listened. The priest droned on.

“The Amonites violated our sacred laws, and most grievously took from the King's stock of concubines. They have been punished on the field of battle, and our Lord has seen fit in his wisdom to grant us another swift victory.”

Another man seated next to Jebbudah lifted his battered head, one eye nearly closed from a recent beating. He snorted. “Hah. We snuck up on 'em, ambushed em is what it was.”

“Have a care, Zacker. Did the overseer not beat you enough today, that you wish more?”

“Hmph. True.” Zacker lowered his head, and then seemed to doze.

Sensible. Too soon it will be back to work, and dusk is a long way off. Best rest while I am able.

Jebbudah closed his eyes. The words rang out over them and their hundreds of fellow workers, all seated on low hills near the dias where the preist stood. He finished speaking, and then two guards presented the first of ten luckless Amonites – all recent captures. The man was forced to kneel, and look out over the gathering, straight ahead. His hair was grabbed and a sword drawn swiftly across his neck. Not even a chance to pray to whatever god he believed in, life spurted out of him swift. He was unceremoniously dropped forward, and pushed off the dias into a shallow pit dug for that purpose.

The next man was drug up, this time struggling and fighting. Two more guards came up from the rear, kicking and beating him, forcing him down. He finally ceased to struggle. He received the same swift death. And so it went.

Zacker opened his eyes, in time to see the last two succumb and be sacrificed. He cleared his throat, and spoke.

“You know, I used to work in a temple.”

“Is that so, Zacker? You never said.”

“Oh yes. There was always a place for a comely boy in the temples.”

“So what is your point, Zacker?” Jebuhdah grunted.

“In the beginning, God created Adam and Eve. We are all sons and daughters of Adam and Eve.” Zacker turned and fixed a gaze at Jebbudah.

“Yes, that is what we were all taught in Sabbath Classes. So?”

“So what kind of a god would divide his people so, and enslave some such as us into servitude, living so rudely. And others get exhalted, lording over us. We are all sons and daughters. What was our sin, Jebbudah? Why enslave us? We are mixed blood, no enemies of Judah.”

Jebbudah looked at his friend, battered, sweaty and bound to him as he was to the man on either side. Their owner did not want anyone running off before the workday was complete. Though the bounds were mere thin cords, they were but a reminder of the punishment befalling anyone trying to escape.

“What did we do, Jebbudah, except be born in the wrong tribe? What kind of creator would separate us like this?”

“I don't know, Zacker.”

They both silently watched the spectacle unfold. The ten fresh corpses were being set afire: A burnt offering to the Lord, the smell sweet to His nostrils. Jebbudah caught himself wondering, Did an omnipotent God, creator of the Universe, even have nostrils? The ceremony concluded, and a horrible smell finally wafted down over the assembled manservants. Thankfully a water maiden came by and gave them a drink, spiced with cinnamon and clover. The Priest kept yelling, “God is good. Be glad you are here. God is good. Be grateful to our lord!”

Then, the ceremony concluded, overseers with whips began to prod the assembled into motion again. “Fun time's over! Get back to work, you worthless lazy scum!” cra-ack!

The End

 

 

Current Events - two cents worth

Just my two cents worth on some things, you can take it or leave it.

I don't know where we come off, telling Russia what to do along it's borders. To me, they have a legitimate military interest in armed unrest right on their border. As do we, right on our border with, say, Mexico and the drug gangs. We should butt out.

On a more local note: If we build it they will come. So we keep erecting apartment buildings in downtown Des Moines for the office workers. Only those rents seem astronomical, especially considering wages around here aren't going anywhere but sideways or down. Good luck with all the fancy-shmancy places. At least they will have a grocery store, whether or not they can afford the prices there.

Meanwhile, our city can't balance the budget, but must keep laying off people and cutting expenses. The franchise fee debacle is only the latest chapter. It seems that around a decade ago the State cut off some kind of aid for the city, and the city has been struggling ever since to recoup. Since the State Capitol and various office buildings all reside here, and the State is running a budget surplus, the least they could do is offer to help the city of Des Moines a little financial help. This city is supposed to be the top city of its kind in the nation, according to many recent magazine articles (like the ones in Forbes). And they can't ever make a budget balance, no matter how much they cut.

I applaud the city for all of the fine redevelopment that has taken place. But these ongoing budget struggles seem ridiculous. Oh sure, I'll vote for the franchise fee increase – better than an unfair property tax jump. But I find myself wondering how else they could get revenue. A user fee for some parks? I don't know the answer. It is just ridiculous how they constantly have to struggle.

This winter has been harsh, no doubt about it. But we have experienced many of these in the past. And just think, there will be less mosquitos and other bugs this summer, thanks to that killing frost. When we get another inch or two, people will kind of freak “More snow? Ohmigod!” But it isn't that bad. We can get through it. We will get through it.

Now if our government gets us into another world war over something stupid, that is a reason to get upset. Someone ought to test the water in DC, and make sure they aren't all hallucinating or something.

Thanks for reading.

 

Travel

     Oh the magic of modern flight. Jet planes to whisk you away to exotic locales. Images of efficient schedules, beautiful destinations, pleasant experiences. The illusion gets shattered as soon as you encounter the security checkpoints, flight delays and crowded boarding procedures. Everyone has those precious possessions to lug onto the plane as carry-on, size rules or no. You shoehorn yourself into a seat, surrounded by strangers that you hope are friendly. It takes a while for everyone to get stuff stowed, and seated. Then, the spiel about what to do if the plane crashes in water, or on land. And a final reminder to fasten seat belts. Then the take off. A few bumps and away you go.

     Once you get to cruising altitude, you are served free soft drinks. You can pay extra for peanuts or something more substantial, or alcoholic drinks. Then, the advertisement for extra miles, or to sign up for their special card. The whole flight can seem like one long infomercial. You try and read with the overhead lamp, and find they don't work. But at least you arrive on time, safely if not very rested.

      Instead of driving for two or three days, you have flown for a few hours, and covered the same distance. Despite any minor irritations, you saved a lot of time. And you feel happy to be at your destination.

     Later, you read about the rarities. The turbulence that injured five people, some severely. Or the plane crash that killed 28. And you feel even happier at being there without mishap.

      Vacations are fun, and most of the time, the trip there and back can be part of the enjoyment. Mine was no exception. Palm Springs was exceptionally beautiful in February. Balmy temperatures, flowers everywhere, great service, friendly people. Many wonderful sights: everything from expensive cars flocking the streets to unique art shops, to a tramway up an 8,000 foot mountaintop. Lots to see and do, and I did as much as I reasonably could. I feel lucky and honored to finally make the visit there. Thanks for reading.

Change of mind

Not too often I change my mind on some environmental issue.  But in the case of the Keystone XL pipeline, I have had a change of mind.   Not approving the pipeline from Canada to the US will have as bad or worse environmental consequences than building it - due to train derailments and pollution.   I do advocate for re-routing the pipeline away from sensitive areas where spillage could leak into the underground aquifers, as much as is reasonably feasible.  Overturned tank cars leaking crude can also spill into streams and rivers, etc.   And, it would be easy for Canada to sell that crude oil to someone else, like say, China, overland. 

     Let's get over our collective BS and get this pipeline approved somehow.   It will be beneficial for all of us.  Until we use 100 percent bicycles and electric cars to get around in, we will need gas.  And I would rather we buy it from our friendly neighbor to the north than from anywhere else.   Thanks for reading.

By a Rover, Darkly

The intelligent rover bumped its way across red gravel hills. Its laser flashed, computers directed forward motion, and then it stopped before the selected specimen. The Boom extended, rotated, and a sampling drill lowered. A core taken, it deposited it into a heating chamber and scanned results. Precursor elements of life were found in a dry riverbed.

The days work done, this workhorse paused, uplinked to an orbiting satellite, and sent the days results. Then it awaited instructions for the next trip out.

When it approached the next blunted hill, the laser flashed like it always did. But this “rock” awoke, and quickly swelled to engulf the entire rover.

***

“Where did it go?” asked one of the mission controllers at JPL. “One minute it was there, the next, nothing.”

“Here, let me have a look,” said his shift supervisor, hurrying over. They studied the screen.

"Try all of the alternate freq's, then repeat at one-minute intervals. Check with the deep-space network for faults. There has to be a logical explanation.” The technicians went into overdrive, checking and re-checking everything humanly possible.

The entity had been listening in on transmissions, and took little time to understand the primitive craft sent from the blue planet. The alien creature, although automatic compared to it's builders, was still sentient at a level far above anything humans could devise. It rapidly made some modifications to the rover, and set Curiosity back on its predetermined path.

“Hey, Chet! Curiosity is back!” said the controller who first noticed it missing. “Look here.”

Several other technicians crowded around, then raced back to their own stations to confirm various telemetry feeds. A muted cheer went up.

The supervisor came over and looked, and then raised his voice: “It appears we have re-acquired Curiosity. We still need to figure out what went wrong, but for the time being, it looks like we are in business. Good work, everyone.”

The international crew had few problems on the way to Mars, twenty years later. Their landing craft separated properly, and they came down in a flat area near some intriguing crevices. There would be a lot to study, and they would only have a month before departing once again. As their huge lander made a controlled descent, and got closer and closer, they began to notice discrepancies between the radar imager and the visual display.

“Hey Cap, the visual shows a flat plain. Radar is telling me there are giant boulders all over the place. What gives?”

Captain Valdez leaned over in his seat and scanned the long, narrow panel graphics. Red lights blossomed within the images. An alarm sounded.

“It's too late to abort. Take it to manual and try to find a radar-flat spot. That is an order!”

Pilot Armstrong moved fingers rapidly through 3-d images, gaining manual control from a bevy of computers. He tried to slow and hover, and barely succeeded.

“Fuel at 5%. 4%. Still large rocks on radar. 3%. Radar gone. Repeat, I've lost radar image. Visual still shows flat. I've got to try and set it down, Cap'n.”

Captain Valdez hesitated, then said, “Go ahead. Set down. Brace everyone.”

The last of the retro fuel was expended as the three-story lander set down in a field of three-meter high boulders. The landing struts caromed off of rock, and three of them bent at very unhealthy angles. The huge lander slammed down at a tilt, and finally, unceremoniously fell over on its side.

“So much for our landing on Mars. Emergency procedures, everyone. Get those suits on!” Valdez yelled.

The astronauts within went into emergency routines. But when Captain Valdez crawled out of an auxiliary hatch, he was still not prepared for the sight that greeted him. An old, beat-up bus-sized rover, extending a boom towards him. On the end of the boom were spinning blades. They made short work of his suit, and then him. The rest of the crew managed to stay alive for a day, before the rover finally found them.



              - The End.

How did we get Older

Sat in church and listened politely,
washed clothes again, brewed coffee again.
Drove in to work again, serviced the car,
drove in again, flipped light switches
a hundred times plus, over again.

Things wore out as we wore on.
Brittle light fixtures finally broke.
Furnaces got old and broke down,
so did lawnmowers and computers.

Everything became obsolescent,
then one day we noticed our wrinkled
hands and faces sending us a message.
We have rounded the corner too.

So we watch the world change
faster and faster, thankful if we are
well enough to witness the wonders.
Anything to postpone that day of
our final reckoning.

- end

Another year is upon us

All of the political scandals, the economic gyrations, stock market swings. The warm summer days, sweating in a t-shirt, even in September. All of a sudden it was time to layer up in coats for the cold winter walk to work. Rapid changes, sudden shifts, the ground moving underfoot. Hard to keep up with things at times, and at other times, time can't move fast enough (Monday morning comes to mind). I and others suffered the loss of some dear friends.

Here is hoping that 2014 is better. That Congress gets more done in Washington. Hoping that more people get jobs, and get ahead. Hoping for less loss and uncertainty and hopelessness and hunger. Hope is cheap, results cost dear. We will see what happens.

2014 and Counting

2014 and Counting




Once upon a time in 1975, a young man joined the workforce.
Heaped with promises, he was of good cheer perforce.
Eagerly he went to work each night, not feeling any fright,
for company representatives said he would be treated right.

They would give him life insurance, health insurance,
dental insurance, pension and savings financial assurance.
He would have a credit union to save and borrow from,
store back some of his pay, buy a car, and never feel glum.

Diligently he worked night after night, third shift no graveyard,
rather an opportunity for him to succeed in the highest regard.
He learned intricate details and his methods were thorough,
They said to keep it up, promotion was coming on the morrow.


He finally did get promoted, was given more responsibility,
He learned new duties and carried them out with perspicacity.
Enduring the gossip and rumor mill, he persevered through all,
When he got another raise and promotion, he was walking tall.

Then one day at the ripe old age of twenty-nine,
The gibes and jabs clued him in: he was no longer fine.
The company power-brokers were under-cutting his walk,
needling so effectively with their underhanded cruel talk.

Over the hill at thirty, he took the hint and moved away,
to a magnificent city up north full of color, lively and gay.
No one would have him at his former occupation,
Was forced to take up menial work, with resignation.

His thirties went the same all of the way through,
he lived hand to mouth, with little left for new shoes.
Halcyon twenties faded in memory, as happiness ebbed.
He emptied trash and cleaned floors, and thus stayed fed.

The forties settled in with a stroke of good fortune,
Happy times returned at a time opportune –
The parties were grand, no lack for company,
succession of fun a reward for this progeny.

Then he took up writing and poetry,
and opened new vistas of possibility.
His goals in sight, mileposts knocked down,
received encouragement from many all around.


The old celebrations and soirees replaced
with the satisfaction of his literary place.
Traded one pleasure for another, ephemeral to permanent;
Hoped his writings would survive, etched in Net firmament.
Yet he realized millions of others held the same great hopes,
So on weekends he still sought good times and funny jokes.

***

Time passes and he still strives and struggles,
His house warm and cozy, his cat snuggles.
The job pays the bills and he stokes his willpower,
Someday it will pay off and greater fortunes flower.

In a dim corner of the city his keyboard clicks to this day,
Months, years, decades roll by, but to his task he will stay.
Worse fates have befallen an average Baby Boomer,
This one counts himself lucky, this “dedicated Homer.”

- end.

Different Worlds

Spacecraft probe deep into universal mysteries,
reveal secrets that amaze and titillate scientists;
Dimming stars yield up new planets' histories,
add to an expanding catalog of interstellar wonder.

An average person sees work faces, road surfaces,
windshield dirt, idiot drivers, dirty living quarters,
recalcitrant pets, spouses and kids – painful routine.
We tell ourselves we are lucky, it could be worse.

The lucky few glued to dim screens send corrections,
then much on pizza and await the slow reply transmissions
from a billion miles distant: Outwardly confident, inwardly uncertain.
On a good day history will be made, all the bad days forgotten.

You and I grind through weekdays, hoping our way to Saturday,
Then fighting lines and fatigue to get those errands run.
Sometimes it all seems worth it, even though the next problem lurks
just around the bend – they say attitudes are everything.

Someday NASA will send a probe to Alpha Centauri and it will
be wondrous, amazing people the world around.
Someday you and I will get what we want and be astounded,
thrilled if we are paying attention. For a little while we will be happy.

-end

Passage - for Harold

Passage


Now moves slow against the backdrop of years,
Instant by instant, a slog through heavy mud;
Hard to imagine the outcome of those aging fears,
Life burns bright within, the veins course with blood.

When one takes a measure of what has passed,
One day leads to another day to a weekend and back;
The sighs of “thank god it is Friday at last”
fade to complaints of black Monday’s attack.

If one never took stock or gauged distance of time,
Perhaps the lingering discontent would disappear;
Merely glide or travel down life’s blurred lines,
Only at the end would journey’s speed be clear.
Yet when one has seen enough loss and death close by,
one cannot avoid the rapid approach of the day we die.

*****

For Harold

You stood up to your church and fought for your rights,
Enhanced the lives of so many underprivileged;
Held venues for same-sex orientated adults,
empowering an entire generation of gay men.

Whether in a suit at the Thoreau Center,
holding court at some Pros Soiree;
Or in dress and helmet at the RRR,
Cooking a meal for fifty naturists at play...

You delivered your particular brand of love,
caring for many of us in so many little ways;
Entertained in secluded woods sunlit from above.
Hosted visitors from around the world, hetero or gay.

Somewhere up there in a fantastic inter-dimensional realm,
he is partying with otherworldly hosts – I wish him well!


- end











In loving Memory of Harold Wells 1936 to 2013

Lockdown

     Are we all prisoners? The cameras are always watching, and high schoolers are treated like criminals. Safety and security above all else, including any vestiges of freedom? We seem to keep moving the line in favor of security, and at cost of our human rights. How far must we be squeezed, how closely watched, how carefully monitored, before every single person feels “safe” ?

      Just recently we saw in North Korea, a high-ranking leader taken down, jailed, convicted and executed. For reasons still unclear, but possibly related to a power struggle. North Korea is the most authoritarian state imaginable, and someone still did not feel “safe”, so had to jail and ultimately execute a rival.

     “Safety” is to a large degree in the mind of the beholder. One can feel threatened in a neighborhood statistically free of violence and robbery. By the same token, someone else might feel “Safe” in a 'hood with a high crime rate. It is an individual state of mind at work. A gunman takes a shot at a teacher, and then 2,000 students get treated like criminals and get searched. They finally find the perpetrator dead of a self-inflicted gunshot. The fanatic adherence to consistency makes sure that the wrong people get scrutinized, every single time. This can breed resentment, and that can breed more troublemakers of all kinds.

       I am all for a reasonable level of safety. Traffic signals, Railroad crossing arms, this sort of thing. But the evening TV is studded with the cops taking down all kinds of bad guys, and the news is rife with school shootings. People are becoming afraid of their neighbors, looking with suspicion at each other all the time. This kind of thing used to be an eastern European state of mind during the cold war, with neighbor tattling on neighbor to gain brownie points with the Stazi or other police force.

     In our democracy, we have the right of peaceful assembly – we have the right to disagree with our elected officials. We the people are the government. Within reason (meaning without violent acts) we have the right to disagree. I fear that in the present hyper-policed atmosphere, we may lose our most precious asset here in the US – our sense of freedom.

       If there is any point to this ramble, it is this: We need to make a hard turn to the Left, and liberalize the general atmosphere. Emphasize the people's right of self-determination, without looking over their shoulder at cameras or swat teams, or being spied on at every turn in their computers or in brick-and-mortar stores. That sweeping spirit of the 1960's that said in effect, the individual does have rights, does have power, and can bring about change for the better. The kind of spirit exemplified by Nelson Mandela, for example. Thanks for reading.

New Markets Above

     The news came out December 11,2013. Mars One has contracted with Lockheed Martin Space division for feasibility studies for their first Mars Mission. Although this is an unmanned test, it is still very significant. It means that a private entity, having solicited funds from thousands of Mars Colony believers, has paid an aerospace corporation for flight hardware. Dreams are becoming reality.


     The faithful are getting their wish – a shot at Mars. And the overall economy is getting a shot of capital, to fund Outer Space activities. Of course, Lockheed-Martin is well positioned in this field, having flown many space missions already. But it is the tip of the iceberg. There are many, many opportunities looming for other aerospace companies, subcontractors, design firms, study groups, even architectural firms. The market for space habitation, entertainment and the like is just getting started.

     So if you run a company with any relevance at all to the huge, looming market for Inner Solar System exploration and development, you may want to ask yourself, 'Is it time to get in now?' Perhaps it is at least time to get ready.

     A lot of people want to go out there, to live on other planets. Evidence is as close as the sign-up list for Mars One. Some Billionaires are on board, most notably Dennis Tito, who wants to fund a human-crewed Mars shot as early as 2018. Prudent companies may want to prepare with research and design studies. It is coming, and one wouldn't want to miss the boat, so to speak. See you out there someday!


-end

Computer Cinquain

The Cinquain is a poetry form pioneered by Adelaide Crapsey and others.    There are many types, but I used the one with nouns and adjectives in the one that follows.    Thanks for reading it, and perhaps you might like to try your own.  Short and expressive, a fun poetic form.

Empty progression

Advanced

Shiny, Modern

gleaming, costing, leapfrogging

Buy the latest computers

Expensive

Obsolescent

creaky, ugly

lagging, fading, missing

last years' computers

Outdated

Cheap

connected, loaded

supporting, enabling, networking

Tablets are all the rage

Android

Container

wrinkly, threadbare

opening, flapping, lacking

My money is all spent

Wallet

Freshness

Freshness


The first time a gal told you about a Ferret,
The first time you saw tropical fish,
The first kitten, or puppy.
The first time driving a car
The first time making love.

The fresh experiences:
Uncertainty, wonder, exhilaration.
We each get so many of these in life.

If only you could draw that freshness off,
put it in a bottle,
take a swig every morning...

New hope for a new day.
Grim sameness splashed with new light,
Bright colored hopes promising you
another whole unknown future,
loaded with possibilities,
where you might still do anything –

And no one can take it away from you,
no matter how hard they try,
how loud they yell.

The only bottle of experience-freshener
I know of is memory, and that is a
very leaky vessel. Still, it is
all we have.


Get some rest,
take a long walk,
tap that container for what you will,
enjoy young newness again!

You have certainly earned it.

-end

All the Electronics still shine

      Everything is now. Gleaming toys from various years co-exist in my mind. The walkie-talkies or transistor radios received at Christmastime (1960s) when I was a kid. The TRS-80 color computer. The Lazer PC compatible. The Packard-Bell 100 Mhz. The Cyrix 166, the DIT 200. The Gateway 300. The Emachines with Windows ME – gaack! The Dell XPS 3 Ghz. And on and on, up to and including the many-cored machines present today in 2013.

     Perhaps the future ones are there, too. The holographic brain-cap models. You know, the ones with all neural interface, no keyboard or mouse required. I can think, see, or “remember” inputs and outputs. The cerebral dust that networks and interfaces with the world around me. Now I have two physical eyes, and many, many remotes networked into myself. Humans have become an electronic hive-mind. Look out, universe, here comes the swarm, and it is us. Too much to comprehend for now. Sure thankful for the AMD 6 Gig model on my desk on this discrete, not-yet-implanted Sunday.

     When the Wetware works well, everything is now, fresh, before the mind's eye. It is a wonder to behold the differences manifesting this last thirty or so years. Party on, cyber dudes, and keep on interfacing.

Just got to have my own sale

Get them while they are hot - my three titles are 20 percent off starting today, running through Christmas!

www.createspace.com/3633147
www.createspace.com/3859469
www.createspace.com/4281639

Happy Reading everyone.

One Rough Life

I leap, I crawl, I cling. Made it again.
Make purchase on tangled branches, barely.
Persistence pays off. Soft pink meal ahead.
I arrive and sink fangs in – delicious.
Earthquake! My surface shudders,
giant digits swipe and pick at me.
I crawl deeper into the thicket and hide.

Made it. After a few more hit-and-run bites,
it is time to exit this food source. I wait for
who knows what, then feel an urge, and jump...

Land on another, similar surface. Another tangled thicket.
Another land of undulating pink underneath. This time
I travel up and down, reconnoiter my area.
The blood-scent of hunger wins out, and I sink
fangs in once again, once again, feel the world shudder.
Leviathan surfaces clutch and scratch, but miss.
Time to leave. I tumble onto a sterile yellow surface.

I crawl and crawl, and then must rest. Then crawl some more.
Encounter moisture of some kind – enough to slake my thirst.
Suddenly a hairy surface plops down nearby, my prayers answered.
I leap on, and look for a thicket to hide in. This surface is bare and vast.
The giant hand swipes at me, and I am hit!
As I fall, mouth and legs reach and grasp for anything to break
the fall, and finally find a curled black branch to grab.
Barely saved, I cling and clutch and grasp, and claw my way up.

Now am in a thicket once again. This time I wait <*indeterminable time x 2*>
The hunger, the scent is too much. I move close to pink food,
sink hungry fangs in. The shudder is less perceptible. Good. I eat more.
The food-land moves about, but not too bad. I keep eating and drinking
the red juice that suffuses this food. Life is grand for me. Until

It starts to rain, a deluge, a waterfall. This rain is pungent,
and it contains poison. As soon as I become aware, I try to run.
My limbs are already sluggish. The world goes black. The land moves,
I tumble off into space. This will be the end of me.

Damn Rid-X.



- end

Tales

      Stories surround me. Science-fiction splendors jump out of the movie screen and amaze. Dark mysteries captivate my interest, engrossing until the twisted, bitter end. Religious stories charm and enlighten, and fill me with hope. Sitcoms bring a laugh, or a groan. Superhero movies are popcorn-chomping funfests. Get the bad guy! Rescue the hero from near-certain ruination, and have them come out on top. Save the world, get the girl (or guy), live happily ever after. Or if it is a horror flick, get unceremoniously hacked to death. Freddie always comes back, and Jason never dies. A sequel is always in the works.

      Filled beyond my capacity, I leak one out of my own on occasion. Perhaps some day one of them will be good enough to sell, become a novel, or even a movie.

     And that would be a story wonderful to tell to my family and friends.

     Here is hoping all your stories have happy, or at least tolerable, endings my friends. Peace and out, until next time.

 

Two Minutes

A "Minute" is a poem consisting of three stanzas of 8,4,4 metrical feet or beats.   They are supposed to be rhyming couplets as well - and make some kind of sense.  Here are two attempts at them  :)


Breaking Bad


A television show got made
Cook Meth, for trade
Was Breaking Bad --
Made critics glad

old Teach offered the best deal
not rob, nor steal –
just sell to kids,
they hit the skids

Until his troops removed his self
Put boss on shelf
He had to hide,
then saved his pride.



Avoiding strife



I just wanted to have some fun
under the sun,
a time of cheer,
no ills nor fear.

My friend political depressed
me with his mess;
though I agreed
with his loud creed.

Intending he end with week's dose,
cut off my host;
Now I steer clear
if he is here.

- end

We Earned it

Baby Boomers
paid into Social Security and Medicare all our working lives.
Queued up in line from the first day of school to the last day at work, along with our fellows. 
Some of us invented Personal computers, I-phones and various other conveniences.
Others went out into the streets and challenged government policies on everything from the Vietnam war to globalization.  Still others went on civil rights marches, bringing an end to segregation in the deep south.  You are welcome, youngsters.

   So now I see some posts out there, claiming we are bankrupting the government, and hogging all the resources, etc.  Social Security was supposed to be self-funding, and would still be if Congress hadn't raided the trust fund.  We paid into the thing all our lives, and by golly we deserve every dollar of benefits promised or "entitled" us. 

      We may not have been the "greatest generation" and yes, there was a lot of drug experimentation and partying.   Just like there is today on college campuses across the country.  We were young once, just like modern college students are now.   But we are entitled to the benefits we have paid for and accumulated.  So you can call us irresponsible, self-centered and the like.  But don't you dare steal our benefits.  We paid for them, we earned them, they belong to us.   You would want your property rights respected?  So do we.  Thanks for reading.

An Extra Helping of Spacetime

My empty wallet made me a nervous wreck,
eating dinner at Perkin's one fine evening;
I summoned a wormhole to pick up the check,
and it took all my friends before leaving.

There I sat, sprawled on the restaurant floor,
since the wormhole also swallowed the table;
Even a black hole could do little more,
scooping up all the matter it was able.

In some distant galaxy are a few perplexed diners,
their angst at picking up the whole darned check
overshadowed by the need to breathe air, a minor
problem on Earth – not so out there on planet Gechhh.


Thanks to the commotion I crawled out and escaped.
Made it home and kept my delicious free meal down;
From now on I will make my own strawberry crepes,
avoid pesky wormholes and making diners frown --
make sure my wallet is full at the grocery store,
after all, they just renovated it a month before.

- end

Under Thier Noses

Nocturnal creatures not vampires so feared,
We creep in high darkness to roam,
feed on other entities our usual way,
seek food hidden under forest loam.

We hunted bandits must avoid two-legged gods,
their onslaught of technology and proliferation;
Must crowd lairs into shrinking habitats and try
to maintain natural rhythms, not made to cry.

Dawn soon approaches, a time to hide.
Rumbles, whooshes, clangs and bangs
inform lesser beings to take cover now.

The mighty ones are stirring, the world-shapers
who take so much, leave only crumbs and scraps.
One last four-legged meal stolen on the fly,
Before we retreat into hidden lairs to savor our prize.

Daytime siestas underground become populated –
Monochrome dreams of better days gone by.
Soon darkness brings renewed vigor for the survivors.

-end

Architectural salvage

Went into a place I had often heard about but never saw.  A four-story building full of all kinds of treasures from the past.  Giant signs, ancient typewriters, every kind of chest, bureau, dresser one can imagine.  Dolls, glass bottles, doors and wall murals.   A photo bug's dream.  So I looked and snapped, and marveled at the things yet unseen in the ol home town.  What a find.  Good to meet up with Central Iowa Photographers group there too.  Was a fun thing to do on a Saturday afternoon in November.

Paperback Cassette Dream

The lust was always there,
craving for techno-storage,
instant electronic companionship -
used to excite me to the bathroom
back in those dim Saturday nights.

What if I could build some magic device
to store all the data on newspaper articles,
and then retrieve it on demand?
What if I could cobble together some circuits,
connect it all to the phone line,
find friends, love, sex everything?
It was an enchanting idea at age 19, 20, 21...

But we had to (and did) content ourselves
with cassettes and records,
paperback novels,
grainy black and white Dr. Who reruns,
cigarettes and beer and microprocessor dreams.

The 1990's Internet tsunami changed it all,
then the 2000's swept away any memory of
analog 80's life - and the 70's?
Wasn't that the time when people did drugs?
Wait, we still do – all the time.


But we have the cellular Internet,
so we never, ever have to get
stoned alone again.

--

Finally

Common sense rules, and they are coming close to passing a debt limit increase.

"Trying to defund Obamacare was a fool's errand"    Love it!

on an unrelated note - check out the website:

http://dycen-alexander.com/links-of-interest   

Thanks.

Close Call

Close Call

They came close to agreement yesterday,
Pundits on TV were predicting success;
Last-minute sabotage meant no hoorays,
Hard-liners complained about supposed excess.

Financial ratings downgrade our government,

paper and commodity markets gyrate and plummet;
Uncertainty paints our future predicament,
as we wait on these fruitless, acrimonious summits.

Is it finally time, then, for the world to bail us out?

Replace weak American dollars with stronger currencies?
We seem reduced to gridlock, leaders just pout and shout.
The constitution did not plan for these contingencies.

Broke and bankrupt, we have to start over somehow,

Pull our system up and get our act together, right now.

-end

One Afternoon at the Quality Inn

It's 2:15 on a Sunday afternoon,
and I have no idea what to do.

In New York and Chicago many are
starving, destitute, lost – addicted.
In Cairo, Egypt, streets are splashed with blood
flesh, screaming torment and misery.
In Damascus, Syria, citizens fight
government might with small arms, or
shelter from jets raining down bombs.
Across Africa there is bloody civil strife.
Other places around the globe also suffer misery...

But


It's 2:15 on a Sunday afternoon,
and I have no idea what to do –

So I look out my 7^th floor window and daydream.

Why is the world the way it is?
How can I make it better?
Why should I bother?
Wonder if room service is still open?

A prosperous westerner
feeling a touch of conscience.

Fortunately, it soon passes,
I decide to take a swim -
A nap-
A meal.

I am thankful...
Life is good here at the Quality Inn.

-end

Meditations during October Bicycle ride

I drink in cool air,
autumn-scented beauty surrounds --
Sun sinks lower,
lights up color in tree tops and hillsides,
yellow light suffused into the browns, reds, greenery.

Summer's heaviness dissipates under
northern influences;
The blood quickens,
gives new energy for winter preparation
or other less productive pursuits.

Time to stash the foodstuffs,
seal up the lodge,
stack the firewood,
tuck in extra buffalo hides
or craft-sale comforters.

Winter's white chill will soon
be upon us –
the helpless shivering
times we must endure.

Hurry up and prepare,
before giving thanks,
then tucking in for the long
cold white blast.

The Sun will come back,
life will renew,
we will be able to venture out once again.
Years' cycle constantly repeats.

But today I enjoy October's crisp palette,
and give thanks for this world,
its endless variation
that I (still) live in.

-end

auto-correc

Thanks to the ever-handy spellchecker software, the previous post has been vetted and changed for accurate spelling.    You are welcome -    

                              - The Computer

Hu-memorial

We are controlled by our computers.
Auto-formatting, letter changes, etc
force us to put down
what we did not intend.

The computer always knows better than
some wannabe artist,
reduced to a desktop ornament
at the whim of the ruling chips,
discarded at their leisure.

Once Humans ruled this world,

alas - no more.

Enough - time to settle it!

Shutdown Again!


      Just do not understand why these representatives of the people cannot get their act together and come up with a compromise. Everyone from the President on down needs to sit down together and haggle out a compromise of some kind, and get the government in operation. Delay the Mandate? So be it. Tax some medical equipment? Why not, we tax everything else, sometimes more than once. We need to get over the stupid recalcitrance and get on with our lives.

     Or should we call the USA a failed state? Maybe request governance as a UN Protectorate. The Blue Helmeted soldiers from distant lands could be stationed in every governmental department, every statehouse even. Have to oversee these bankrupt broken governments somehow, don't we?

     It would be easy to blame the debacle on one or another party. But the fact is, presidents over the last six administrations have wrestled with the question of health care and how to better administer it. Obama is merely the latest president to address it, and he did so in a big way. The rich hate it, and the poor applaud it.

     But in any case, we need to get past these minutia, and hammer out some kind of agreement. For everyone’s' sake. Thanks for reading, and keep an eye out for those blue helmets, coming soon to a street corner near you.

-
 

Accidental Literacy

There is so much accidental literacy in life these days. Computer literacy, writing literacy, social literacy.


      I post on Facebook or send an e-mail, and must naturally try for a modicum of skills at writing English. Most email and social network editors will underline my misspells, and let me right-click to correct them. Perhaps I will even pay attention to the correct spellings and remember them – stranger things have happened.

     Sometimes I'll follow a link and read an article in the New York Times or the UK Guardian. My tired brain is presented with a well-laid out logical progression of facts and positions. I assume these have been thoroughly proof-read. Some of my sharp-eyed friends catch errors in these articles, but I rarely, if ever, see any. So I get immersed in literacy once again.

     Even if I never wrote another poem, nor short story nor essay or even a Facebook rant, the act of using the Internet for everyday life functioning soaks me in a sea of syntax and grammar, quips and quotes, theses and theories. Where once I had to actively seek out books and look for learning, now I cannot escape it. Since I do not plan on giving up the Internet (arguably the most important of modern conveniences), this will go on until the day I am planted underground.

     Mostly, it is a gift. Human minds have effectively been inter-networked to the degree that our knowledge has become meta-knowledge, a living, growing entity that will last as long as the electricity is on. Difficult to imagine my teenage years in the previous century, those dark times when all we had were record albums, paperbacks or comics, black-light posters, and the regularly-practiced stupefaction of doing drugs. Determined to be dumb, we succeeded in a stellar fashion. Today's teens could chew us up and spit us out in their stride: they seem far brighter than we were. There are exceptions to every rule, of course.

     If there is a point to this rant it is this: Literacy (whether or not it is of high quality) is a mouse click or finger twitch away these days. And that is very good, or at least darned convenient.


Thanks for reading.

-

Special

     The news came out that the U.S. And Russia have reached some kind of agreement regarding Syria. Sounds good to me, since I really did not want world war III. Vladimir Putin's attitude still rankles, though. The USA is special – if for no other reason than we are made up of immigrants and refugees from every other nation on earth (native Americans aside). Refugees escaping harsh living conditions and even harsher regimes from many of the same countries that “we” came from. So, yes, Mr. Putin, we are special. We are made up of those fleeing your society and many others, hoping for and working towards a better life. Although far from perfect, I think we have done pretty well.

But hey, I'm all for keeping the peace, when I rationally consider the alternatives. Thanks for reading.

Putin writes an article

Putin pouts at us

It is really amazing how the Russian leader criticizes us. Their human rights record is abysmal, and their client state, Syria, is massacring its own citizens. We have to bull in there and threaten to strike just to get their attention.

Assad had said that if a patient cuts off an arm that has gangrene, this is not terrorism or massacre – comparing his gassing the rebels with amputation, I suppose.

If the West took this same philosophy, we should “amputate” Syria – or even Russia. Maybe it is finally time to settle the big unspoken question once and for all. What to do about Russia. Maybe throw everything we have at them and scorch the continent down to bedrock. Make it glow for ten thousand years. It will remind the rest of the world to stay in line and act civilized.

One can only fantasize. But it would be nice if everyone could get along. Yeah, another fantasy there. Oh well, Glad tomorrow is Friday. Maybe there will be another war to watch on CNN by the weekend.

Twelve years later

War memories cascade past,
repeating images of huge planes striking
immense buildings, ejecting fireballs –
Screams of fear and misery, that
muted drumbeat of thousands
running for their lives.

Bodies tumbled out of windows,
Absurd leaps of faith a last hope;
Concrete and steel flattened like some
giant defective cake, crushing
everything in its path.

Cloud of deadly dust hung over NYC for days.

Gas spiked, panicked lines formed.
Many left work early,
only thing flying were
national guard helicopters.


The world turned upside down that day,
and we are still reeling.

Twelve years later, the
wounds have scabbed over,
but may never heal completely.

Memories of the dead are honored,
heroes who gave their lives in our defense
even more so – they will not be forgotten.

We got the perpetrators,
delivered our rightly harsh response.
Yet it seems we have been forever changed.

Nine-eleven burned into my brain,

then,


now -


always.



-end

Goodbye Max

Rest in Peace, Max


Bright-eyed fluffy surprise,
eager tail and happy bark –
puppy Max made our spirits rise,
scampering around on some lark.

Our happy four-legged presence
lightened our mood and our days,
Made complete our residence,
unless he had to go out (without delay).

We'll miss you, little buddy –
not only Lew and Kath
but everyone else in the family,
who petted you and got a tongue bath...

Kibbles and kisses and lovins and more,
you left us with cheerful memories galore.


-end

so much for resolutions

Already missed a day - but I blame a writers meeting that occurs once a month - was a great source of inspiration, and fun besides.   If anyone is reading this that is a fledgling writer, a regular groups is a precious resource - join one if possible, either online or in person.  

I see we are moving closer to a strike in Syria.   After the two very costly wars we recently extricated ourselves from  (the US I mean), I just cannot fathom it.  There have been numerous casualties inflicted by other means, some say over 100,000 dead.    But now because of some evidence of a chemical agent, the US feels it has to go in and smite the Assad regime with missiles.   Right in the middle of a bloody civil war, we have to go in and clobber one side.   Now, what is a European power did something like that in the midst of our civil war?   Would we just stop, lay down our rifles and say  "okay, we are sorry".    Perhaps some power might have been aghast at the wholesale burning of cities like Atlanta by the GAR, and decided to step in and punish A. Lincoln by an offshore bombardment of New York or somesuch.   It is absurd, of course.

      Why every president we have gets such a hard-on for military action these days is beyond me, unless it is sheer egomania.   But some evidence of chemical attack on a relatively small group of people, in the midst of much larger slaughter, is no reason for the USA to sacrifice more blood and treasure  (or IOU's) for some damned foreign power on the other side of the globe.   Again.

But we will - you watch.  

30-day challenge

Another author came up with the idea of writing a blog post every day for 30 days, so, why not - sounds like a great idea.  But poems just don't grow on trees, so many of these will be rambling prose by necessity. 

     Day 1 - Sept 1st.    The river was shallow, but the sun canted a little bit sideways, the air lost a bit of humidity, and the temps felt perfect on our exposed skin.  We splashed about in the water, walked along sandy banks, took pictures and more pictures, chatted about anything and everything.  As the sun fell towards 7:30 P.M., we gathered up our things and made our way back to the car.   My body felt so alive, invigorated and relaxed at the same time.  It was another delightful river outing.  A unique one as only these two friends and I can pursue.    And it only cost us the gas to get there, and any drinks we took along.  Perfect.

Day 2 - today.  Thinking ahead to a possible trip to Palm Springs.  The hotel costs a fortune, airfare is not cheap either, and then there is car rental.  I should be saving my meager scraps for retirement, not going on a trip like this.   But my aging body informs me in its own way that time is passing, I won't be here forever.  Perhaps I need to do a few trips like this, to see some things I've only read about previously before my "meter runs out".   The debate rages back and forth.  I think 'how dare he, he knows I earn very little, etc etc.'   Then,   'Maybe I ought to be glad, having someone goad me to go do things I would be too reluctant or even timid to try on my own.'    February is a long way off, and the jury is still out.   We shall see.   Meanwhile, it is a gorgeous morning here in Des Moines, with cool temps and sunshine.   Glad for that in any case.

The Earth Scents Me

My fingers work the soil in myriad ways,
sometimes with tools like hoe or shovel;
When I get into the yard on nice April days,
begin to prep dirt canvas without any trouble.

As I mine the compost pile rich scents awaken my senses,
inspiring efforts to amend bare earth with the rich loam;
Once the soil has been worked, planting commences,
Fresh flowers and vegetables will grace my home.

That early joy of planting genesis of future treasure,
fades when the weeds start to grow, little by little;
Persistence of thinning them out is a good measure
of a true gardeners' determination and mettle.

The delightful treat of new colors, smells and tastes
remind one that persistent effort has not gone to waste.

-end

Sign on my Forehead

Sign on my Forehead





I am not an international terrorist,
Nor baby-snatcher nor serial rapist;
The only thing I molest is my shopping list,
Only one (verbally) abused might be my therapist...

No visions of grand larceny crowd my brain,
No drug deals loom within my domain;
A quart of Old Milwaukee my only refrain,
Employed and keeping self clean, is that insane?

Though I am an older single male,
who likes to sight-see alone,
walk or ride over hill and dale,
visiting area spots close to home.

So please grant me a sequestration,
please cut me some mental slack;
I feel your suspicions as I field your questions,
you are not, but I feel like I am, under attack.

Media have sold me on the appeal
of many area gardens, lakes and trails;
Although I visit these with zeal
Do not run me out of town “on a rail.”

Thank you very much.

-end

Flutter

Thought wanders and jumps like a butterfly,
concerns and wants crowd out firm direction;
Need to do this, want to do that, would like to do the other -

Too often sensible things get pushed aside.

At times I can take a breath, steel self and forge ahead.
When I relent, imps of misdirection leap back to the fore,
taking me on yet another half-planned misadventure.
Memories are friend and foe, pleasing and disappointing...

Somehow I make it through work,
traffic, grocery shopping and banking.

Things need to get done.

Dreams of romance or exotic adventure
rarely derail the necessary items of life,

no matter how hard they try.

-end

Expanding Reality

     If you ask 10 different people what some burglary suspect looks like, you are liable to get at least several different answers.    Something that has been proven in history to the best of my knowledge.   This just shows me that reality is perceived differently by different people - our minds and brains interprets what we see, what is “out there.”

 

So all we can do is gain a close approximation of reality that is agreed upon by most.   We can never really know what is truly   “out there” - aside from a personal opinion of what it is we are sensing.

 

     Therefore, when we look at a stack of perfectly organized facts, and a “something” creeps in from around the edges or even the middle, we probably should not be surprised.   It is just another part of the meta-verse finally detected and processed by our crude but persistent wetware.    

 

     But this can be looked at in an optimistic way - there are amazing discoveries awaiting us.    It seems that as long as the universe is expanding, our reality will also expand.    Incredible things lie ahead, and I envy the future generations that will make these discoveries.  

 

     Still, it has been a great trip to be alive these years, and hope to log a few more decades to enjoy the view.   See you on the outer edge of this bubble we call reality!

what a surprise

     The revelations came out this week that the Internet is being spied upon regularly, with many of the largest providers giving access to the government.   Sine the Internet basically came from government-designed and funded networks in the first place, there is no real surprise here.    Government designs and builds a worldwide communications network;   Government spies upon it’s gift to the world.    Surprise, surprise.   

 

      What does seem to be a loss is the comfortable illusion we had of the Internet as an open free-for-all.   In the beginning it seemed wide open, for good or ill, and anything was possible.   Now it seems  reduced to just another outpost of the TSA, another place to be scrutinized in minute detail.  I pity the young people coming up, who never even knew the illusion of what the Net used to be.    Our ever-present spy apparatus is keeping them safe, and laying bare their lives.   Privacy vs security, and security wins.     What more can I say?

-end

This just in

Now available for your light summertime reading pleasure - A Strange Enterprise.

http://www.amazon.com/Strange-Enterprise-Collection-Speculations/dp/0615818072/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1368914341&sr=1-4&keywords=A+Strange+Enterprise

Enjoy!

A strange day

May 3, that is.  Over 24 hours of snowfall right here in Des Moines, Iowa.  Amazing.   Something I have never seen in all my years.   I do recall a mid-April snowstorm around 1981, that wiped out many a flower garden.   But this one really takes the cake.   It felt so surreal, looking out the window at work, and seeing everything in black-and-white relief, just like it looked in December - or February.     Part of my mind thought  “was all that greenery and balmy breezes a ruse?  Are we stuck in perpetual winter - a new ice age?”

 

     The weatherman says it is not so.   It should warm up to the 60’s by this weekend, 70s by next week.    All I can say is, it better.   Not fair being robbed of spring like this.  Who knows what the summer will bring - maybe 100s followed by 50’s.      Strange - a day to tell your grandkids about someday.     

 

(feels like any other Friday - only cold!)

 

 

A little about a lot - this and that

Wonder why these truckers do not monitor the height of their loads?   They are always crashing into overpasses and bridges, despite signs and warnings?   Can there not be some standardization of bridge heights and/or load sizes?    Every one has an excuse from the drivers  (they just hook up and haul)  on up the chain.   Can no one take respnsibility for this expensive, ongoing debacle?   Seriously?  Ridiculous.

So ther are three accomplices to the Boston bombings.   Good, lock them up and throw away the key.  Thou shalt not blow people up, nor help those who do.

The Keystone pipeline helps no one but the oil companies.   Why not build a refinery in Canada?  They figure it is somehow easier to ship the oil 3,000 miles south and then refine it?   Hmmm.   Yeah, let's pollute the Oglala aquifer, where the entire midwestern US draws drinking water from.   Who needs clean water anymore - we can sip crude and breathe gas.  Yeah.

We somehow need to go in and prevent the Syrian government from using poison gas on their people.   And we need to bomb Iran to protect Israel.   We can't even keep Afghanistan under control.   What if we declared an invasion on the U.S. and did some nation-building here at home.  Repair decaying bridges and roads, but also enhance our energy grid, and help renovate inner-city housing.   Help make the US a modern country - again.   

Just wondering.