Mark’s Mental Meanderings

The Latest Attempt...

2011-08-21T17:36:00.001-05:00

Author's Note: This is your Humble Correspondant's first attempt at blogging via smartphone. Please forgive any weirdness that may result from my unfamiliarity with this new terrain ;-).

* * *

Greetings :-),

Sooo...Conan...

(*sigh*) It was a good enough film I suppose, taken alone, but it did absolutely nothing to scratch my "Conan itch". Change the title and the names and someone who had only read the books wouldn't have even recognized it as anything other than another big budget, "mighty thewed barbarian" flick, all of which pretty much rip off Howard to one degree or another anyway.

This one was better than many, not so good as some. Great atmosphere and effects, decent combat (despite a few moments of sheer idiocy) and decent writing (a few really good ideas, dragged down by some really bad ones that dropped the average). But it was only a "Conan film" because they told us so and, I'm sorry, but that's just not good enough for me. Not when I know we can do better.

Truly, this just reinforces my long held belief that theatrical film is too limited a media for true, sweeping epic storytelling. A film is a video version of the short story, not the novel. For the latter, we have HBO and I think all the serious Conan fans out there should unite, form a barbarian horde and launch a campaign to aquire the rights and hire that fine studio to finally, finally do it right: a four or five season show with each season covering one of the major phases of Conan's life (thief, roving mercenary, pirate/bandit leader, Aquilonion mercenary and rebel/usurper. End the last season with his coronation and, if there's enough interest, do another show about his reign. No need to slavishly follow the Howard stories either, there's plenty of room to slip in original work in the spirit of the stories but, by Crom, somebody give those of us who still care about Howard's hero a Conan we can recognize!

In summation, I liked it well enough to own it and watch it, but not as a Conan film. I simply refuse to see it that way. I will refer to it (and may even label it on my DVD shelf when the time comes) as "Nanoc the Barbarian", after a beloved D&D character of my callow youth who was a lot like Conan but wasn't...much like this film.

Both were fun though ;-).

Thanks for listening :-)!

Poem: "May I Look At You?"

2011-02-02T03:47:00.000-05:00

(Presented on Facebook courtesy of Mark’s Mental Meanderings)

Greetings :-),

Another relic unearthed from the archives. At least this one is mine and, unlike so many of mine, not borne of depression ;-)!

* * * * *

May I Look At You?

19 May, ‘06

May I look at you, lovely lady?

An odd request, I know, from a stranger.
And they don’t come much stranger than me,
I must admit.

But please know that I mean you no harm.

I am not dangerous,
except to evildoers who cross my path,
stuffed shirts with neatly boxed philosophies,
and most of all to myself.

I just think you beautiful and seek license to look at you a bit.
To figure out what brought my attention snapping to you
at the merest passing glance

Committing it to memory before you pass on out of sight.

Perhaps even computer memory, if you will permit.
I could snap your picture with my phone,
which I’m just old enough to still be amazed by,
and email it to myself.

Would you like me to send you a copy?
Or would you rather not give your address to a bizarre fellow like me,
who would stop a women on the street and ask to look at her.

But really, what choice do I have?

Furtive glances as you pass would not be enough.
Staring without permission is rude,
even illegal in some places these days,
which I am also just old enough to be amazed by.

I could have just let you just go on by,
undisturbed and unchallenged.

But I couldn’t bear the thought of having you pass on
Into the vast and growing realm of might-have-beens
that litter my past amid the wreckage of unrealized plans
and unchased dreams.

So may I look at you, lovely lady?

Will you grant me the gift of your time and beauty?

Thank you!

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)!

Poem: "Any Prince To Any Princess"

2011-02-01T07:56:00.001-05:00

(Presented on Facebook courtesy of Mark’s Mental Meanderings)

Greetings :-),

Just a piece I like, uncovered from my archives. Stylistically, it reminds me strongly of another poet of greater familiarity and longer association.

* * * * *

“Any Prince to Any Princess”
by Adrian Henri

August is coming
and the goose, I'm afraid,
is getting fat.

There have been
no golden eggs for some months now.

Straw has fallen well below market price
despite my frantic spinning
and the sedge is,
as you rightly point out,
withered.

I can't imagine how the pea
got under your mattress. I apologize humbly.
The chambermaid has, of course,
been sacked.
As has the frog footman.

I understand that
during my recent fact-finding tour of the Golden River,
despite your nightly unavailing efforts,
he remained obstinately
froggish.

I hope that the Three Wishes
granted by the General Assembly
will go some way towards redressing
this unfortunate recent sequence of events.

The fall in output from the shoe-factory, for example:
no one could have foreseen the work-to-rule
by the National Union of Elves. Not to mention the fact
that the court has been fast asleep
for the last six and a half years.

The matter of the poisoned apple has been taken up
by the Board of Trade: I think I can assure you
the incident will not be repeated.

I can quite understand, in the circumstances,
your reluctance to let down
your golden tresses.

However...

I feel I must point out
that the weather isn't getting any better
and I already have a nasty chill from waiting
at the base of the White Tower.

You must see the absurdity of the situation.
Some of the courtiers are beginning to talk,
not to mention the humble villagers.

It's been three weeks now,
and not even a word.

Princess,
a cold, black wind
howls through our empty palace.
Dead leaves litter the bedchamber;
the mirror on the wall hasn't said a thing
since you left.

I can only ask,
bearing all this in mind,
that you think again.

Let down your hair...

Reconsider...

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)

Poem: The Little Black Box

2011-01-31T03:43:00.000-05:00

(Presented on Facebook courtesy of Mark’s Mental Meanderings)

The Little Black Box
by Mark Beatty (January, 2011)

I have a Little Black Box
that accompanies me
on my daily journeys.

It is my friend
and my task-master.

My little, portable window on the world
preventing me from sinking,
once and for all,
into true hermitage.

It is my secretary
guarding my electronic gates.

It wards against those I do not wish to talk to,
at least not just now,
but takes their messages for later address.

It brings me the words and voices
that bring me joy.
And carries my own forth
to do their own work.

But it also taunts me
as I find myself staring at it
waiting for it to announce a visitor
with it's sweet tones or saucy red wink.

Is that truly fair though?
Should I blame it or...?

More recently, it has taken my dictation
since the last of the bigger boxes
finally succumbed
and passed from this world.

This very piece was written upon it,
in the strange thumb-dance of the 21st century.
I still cannot decide if that was progress
or regression.

But I can feel my carpels tunnelling already...

It was not the best or the latest
even when I first got it.
But then, what that I ever truly loved was?

I tend it's needs far more carefully than my own.
Though, in fairness, they are far simpler.
I have kept it alive far longer
than the many plants that I have failed.

I wonder though sometimes,
if it serves me
or I serve it?

My beloved Little Black Box...

* * *

Thanks for Listening :-)

Life-Defining Literature

2011-01-24T04:39:00.000-05:00

Presented on Facebook courtesy of Mark's Mental Meanderings

Greetings :-),

If you, like me, have long loved books then you (also like me) likely have one or more that significantly influenced the course of your life and the development of your personal philosophy.

My "biggies" are:

The "Prydain Chronicles" by Lloyd Alexander

The various & sundry works (published and unpublished) of my cousin, friend and childhood hero, Christopher A Lay

"Dune" by Frank Herbert

"Way of the Peaceful Warrior" by Dan Millman and it's two sequels ("Sacred Journey of the Peaceful Warrior" & "The Journeys of Socrates")

"Emotional Alchemy: How The Mind Can Heal The Heart" by Tara Bennett-Goleman

"Aikido And The New Warrior" ed. by Richard Strozzi-Heckler

"In Search Of The Warrior Spirit" by Richard Strozzi-Heckler

"Starship Troopers" by Robert A. Heinlein

The "War Against The Chtorr" series by David Gerrold ("A Matter For Men", "A Day For Damnation", "A Season For Slaughter" and "A Rage For Revenge")

What are yours?

Thanks for listening :-)

Vincent

2011-01-22T01:56:00.000-05:00

(Presented on Facebook courtesy of Mark’s Mental Meanderings)

Greetings :-),

An unusual treat tonight. I spontaneously picked up what I thought was a film I’d never seen starring Leonard Nimoy (“Vincent”) and it turned out to be a play. Then, in another bit of serendipity, I went to bed early and awoke early enough to watch it tonight before work.

It was really good…and this from me, hardly a massive fan of theater or Van Gogh ;-).

Nimoy is the only cast member, portraying Vincent’s brother who, after finding himself overcome with emotion at the funeral and unable to speak, subsequently rents a theater to present his eulogy. Nimoy also directed himself, apparently, which is kind’ve interesting. I learned a great deal I didn’t know and am now inspired to research both men a little more, which I suppose is one of the highest compliments I can give to a play or any other piece of writing or performance.

I didn’t know, for example, that he had been “born twice” (I’m not telling; watch the play ;-) ), nor did I know the various theories about how his medical conditions and/or the treatments thereof might have made a direct impact on his unique style of painting. I also didn’t know that he refused to sign his last name to his work. He apparently confided in his brother that he felt that those unfamiliar with Dutch pronunciation would butcher the name. We did anyway, of course; apparently, it is supposed to sound like “Van Hokk”. I find it suggestive in the extreme of the way the world viewed Vincent that this error has been so widely perpetuated. It also says a lot about the way the world views each of us, on it’s terms rather than our own. I’m inclined to agree with the theory forwarded by Nimoy however, that it was less this and more a statement that his father, from whom he got the name and little else apparently, had no influence on and could claim no credit for his work.

I shall have to procure this... and the fact that it will only be the third recorded play I ever sought to own should speak volumes about it's impression on me. The others, should you be interested, were "Camelot" done by Richard Harris and a relatively obscure (if I'm even qualified to label a play as such) British version of "The Elephant Man", brilliantly enacted by Philip Anglim. It most impressed me, even in the tender, years in which I first saw it (I couldn’t have been older than 12, based on where I remember living at the time) by it’s eschewing of prosthetic makeup in favor of Anglim portraying Merrick holding his body in contortion throughout the performance to simulate his subject’s tragic deformities. I always felt that this portrayed the humanity of the real man better than the artificial creation of the movie versions and, in the decades since, I have never forgotten looking into Anglim's deep, expressive eyes as they reached out through the TV screen and into my heart. I can close my own even today and see them. The prosthetics may have been more accurate, but in the medium of film it is too easy to lump Merrick in with the other “movie monsters” and miss the point. Much as I later discovered about corpses when I worked at the hospital, you really can’t capture the experience. It’s a cliché because it’s true: sometimes, you really have to be there.

Both of those were recorded to VHS from HBO and both long since watched to death & discarded. Now that I think about it, I suppose I’ll have to go buy them again :-p!

Returning to "Vincent", subject matter aside, it is one man on a stage portraying a man who rents a stage to speak his mind to whomever will listen. There's a purity to that which I find very appealing, like the ancient Greek orators. And, fittingly, the most profound words of the performance were the last, which were not even in the play itself but at the end of a post-performance epilogue by Nimoy:

"He didn't paint what he was forced to see. He painted what he chose to see. He was an artist."

Thanks for listening :-)!

GGP: Why Our Grandparents Were So Happy

2011-01-20T01:20:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I tagged this as a GGP or "Ghost Guest Post" because I got it in an email forward and have no idea how to attribute it. It's definitely not my original work though, so if anyone out there knows where it originated, please drop me a line and I will edit the post accordingly to give credit where it is due.

* * * * *

Why Our Grandparents Were So Happy

A bottle of Bayer's 'Heroin'.
Between 1890 and 1910 heroin was sold as a non-addictive substitute for morphine. It was also used to treat children suffering with a strong cough.

Coca Wine
Metcalf's Coca Wine was one of a huge variety of wines with cocaine on the market.Everybody used to say that it would make you happy and it would also work as a medicinal treatment.

Mariani Wine
Mariani wine (1875) was the most famous Coca wine of it's time. Pope Leo XIII used to carry one bottle with him all the time.He awarded Angelo Mariani (the producer) with a Vatican gold medal.

Maltine
Produced by the Maltine Manufacturing Company of New York .It was suggested that you should take a full glass with or after every meal. Children should only take half a glass.

A paperweight promoting C.F. Boehringer & Soehne ( Mannheim , Germany )

They were proud of being the biggest producers in the world of products containing Quinine and Cocaine.

Opium for Asthma
At 40% alcohol plus 3 grams of opium per tablet, it didn't cure you, but you didn't care ...

Cocaine Tablets (1900)
All stage actors, singers, teachers and preachers had to have them for a maximum performance. Great to 'smooth' the voice.

Cocaine drops for toothache
Very popular for children in 1885. Not only did they relieve the pain, they made the children very happy!

Opium for newborns

I'm sure this would make them sleep well (not only the Opium, but also 46% alcohol)!

It's no wonder they were called, 'The Good Old Days'!!

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)

Poem: "The Muse"

2011-01-15T23:46:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

A partially finished piece of unknown vintage which I unearthed, polished and stamped with today's date. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

* * * * *

The Muse

15 JAN, 2011

She watches me always, but touches me rarely.

She comes when she likes,
doing as she pleases,
taking what she wants,
giving what she feels like.

She brooks no resistance,
tolerates no excuses,
accepts no comprimises.

Then, with a wink,
a crooked smile
and a saucy toss of her hair,
she is gone without a backward glance.

Until next time…

God...I love her!

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)!

Comfort Foods

2011-01-11T02:12:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-)

The subject of comfort food came up tonight at work and got me thinking. I don't mean comfort food as in using ice cream and pizza as a drug to make you feel better in general (as I have been occasionally guilty of myself), but foods that comfort you less in and of themselves as through personal associations.

Probably my biggest would be thin, heavily buttered mashed potatoes. Years ago, I had all four of my wisdom teeth out at once and caught a gum infection that laid me low in what remains to this day the worst single period of illness I can remember in my life. I lay for days in bed...aching, feverish, weak and so miserable I couldn't even focus enough to read. Eating was really hard and through it all my father, who rarely cooks, made me syrupy, heavily buttered instant mashed potatoes that I not only could get past the raging pain in my mouth but, in fact, fell in love with.

Second place would definitely go to my dear friend Susan's handmade stovetop hot chocholate...the only beverage I will plan an overnight trip to get ;-).

Finally there is the homemade liverwurst availible at Dietrich's Meats in Lenhartsville, PA. Although it's the best I've ever tasted in general, it will never taste as good as it did off the fingers of my other dear friend Dana in the car on the way home :-).

What are your warmest comfort foods?

Thanks for listening :-)

Poem: "Lingering Thoughts"

2011-01-07T01:46:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

When, as is generally the case, my mind cannot sync with my spirit sufficiently to bring you good work of my own, the next best thing I can do is share things written by others that moves me.

In that spirit, I once again present a piece by the painfully talented Olivia Magdelene, who writes the way I wish I could. I'm getting more opportunities to read her work now because she set me up for an email subscription and I can get and save her stuff on my phone.

The last stanza of this poem speaks so powerfully to me about the most significant conflict of my present life that I adopted it as my email sig line for a while.

Thanks, Olivia :-)!

* * * * *

Lingering Thoughts
by Olivia Magdelene

I am the observer
of the observer
in life,
fracturing
labels
creating
attachment
and aversion
~
I am a mother,
a friend,
daughter,
ex-wife,
cousin;
Yet I am
none of these
things
~
Existence
is a symbol
without words
~
The enemy of
all things
is nihilism
when it becomes
Sacred:
the worship
of Nothing
~
Transcendence
occurs once
dependent origination
and the emptiness
of all phenomenon
are recognized
as ONE
with no contradictions
~
The ultimate
end of anger
is suicide
because all
its manifestations
are ultimately
directed at
oneself.

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)!

Disaronno, Straight and Neat

2011-01-02T15:28:00.000-05:00

Disaronno Originale, straight and neat, has been my "signature drink" for as long as I've had one. Today, amid reflections on and preparations for the challenges of 2011 (the ones I can see coming from here, anyway ;-) ), I poured myself the small bottle of it that my cousin, old friend and occasional foe Chris gave me on the frozen fields of France this Christmas. Since he's both the reason I have a signature drink and one of the main reasons I took up writing in the first place, it seemed appropriate to open 2011 on this blog with a little piece about Disaronno and what it means to me.

I have never been what some might refer to as a "drinking man". I have many friends who don't really feel their weekend has begun until they've imbibed more than my average annual consumption of alcohol. For me, alcoholic beverages have always been a rather meditative experience. I nurse, I swirl, I smell, I take tiny sips and contemplate the sensations that arise both from the flavor and the subtle affects of the alcohol (always pronounced in such an occasional drinker as your humble correspondent ;-) ). I am not exclusive in my tastes. I like Bailey's, Yago Sangria (though I generally avoid it because it's one of the few alcoholic drinks I like to drink fast and can generally be relied upon to kill a bottle of on my own if not restrained), a good fortified egg nog (see note about Yago, and then some ;-) ). I've yet to meet a glass of wine I couldn't stomach, or a beer I could. More recently, I've been cautiously acquainting myself with mixed drinks, of which the Old Fashioned is still my favorite. I keep wanting to order a Vesper, but the one bad thing about the Daniel Craig re-make of "Casino Royale" is that the drink has lost it's special cache'. Formerly, asking for one did generally require instructions to the bartender (as with Bond) and if they already knew about it, they recognized you as a man of letters who had actually read the books, previous film versions of the first one having been appropriately and mercifully forgotten by most.. Now, with the drink handed out to the ignorant masses on a big-budget film silver platter, it seems a little ridiculous.

But, I digress...

To me, Disaronno is still special. Without ice or other dilutants, at room temperature as I (alone among men, it seems) like it, it's a deep, intense experience, with a rich, complex aroma and taste and a pleasant tingle on the tongue. Whether I finish it in five minutes or five hours, the last sip from the glass is just as good as the first and each can last me three or four minutes as it's effects play out. It's the same kind of experience, though longer lasting, that I get from good sushi, oysters, high quality red meat only a few degrees past getting up and making a break for it and all the other guilty and not so guilty pleasures of my life. Only one other thing tops it for pure, sensual pleasure and...well, that's a post in and of itself ;-).

My way with Disaronno is also, quite expectedly, a source of controversy. I can't count the number of people, particularly bartenders, who've done a double take and asked me for confirmation that I wanted it and a glass...period. Most seem to think it's mainly a flavor for other things and perhaps it is. To be sure I use it as such, to flavor my life ;-). And it should surprise no one who knows me that my favorite "glass" from which to imbibe it (pictured above) is actually intended to be a votive candle holder. But hey, they're made from recycled wine bottles...so there :-p!

Thanks for listening :-)!

What I Learned In 2010

2011-01-01T00:36:00.000-05:00

I learned that rationality, taken to extremes, is the most irrational behavior at all.

I learned that taking your emotions out of an equation can, at times, create very dangerous blind spots…as can letting them too far in.

I learned that a good relationship is not made by trying to make your partner into the person you want them to be, but rather by trying to have the best relationship possible with the person they are.

I learned that love can conquer nothing; it merely inspires us to fight harder.

I learned that the harder you strive for enlightenment, the more the Morlocks fear and mock you. The light hurts their eyes.

I learned that wanting to love someone, or not love someone, doesn’t make it so. The same goes for respect, only more so.

I learned that there is virtually nothing I can’t forgive someone I love, but also that forgiveness does not necessarily imply acceptance or agreement.

I learned how subtle and powerful personal demons can be, to my eternal regret.

I learned that accusing someone of hypocrisy is often a sign of it.

I learned that ivory towers are prisons, not palaces.

I learned that I really need to study Aikido under a teacher who’s philosophical base matches what I’ve read of it.

I learned to hate professional sports and televised poker, but also to appreciate the art of the TV commercial.

I learned the depths of frustration that can be plumbed by having someone mirror, almost word for word, your own feelings while standing in opposition to you.

I learned that things generally start to fall apart right about the time you start to let yourself think that they will last forever.

I learned to be looser and more spontaneous.

I learned that 2 am is a great time to get together with the right kind of friend.

I learned that I can lose the weight. If that seems obvious to you, I envy you.

I learned that the surer you are that you are incontrovertibly right, the more likely you are to be wrong.

I learned that I'm smarter and wiser than many give me credit for, but not quite as much as others (including me) give me credit for.

I learned that I need to develop better writing habits to maintain a decent blog ;-).

And finally…

I learned that I have much more to learn :-).

Happy 2011!

Coping...With Raw Fish ;-)

2010-12-15T04:17:00.001-05:00

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Greetings :-)!

If you don’t want to read about me having lunch…now’s the time to back out ;-)…

I’ve been having a rough time lately with my food cravings. Holding, but with much more difficulty than in a while. No specific reason I can identify…probably just stress building through the tight holiday season and a subconscious desire to return to my old coping mechanisms. Anyway, it got really bad yesterday, so I decided on a reasonable compromise. I went out for sushi.

Good sushi, at least as my under-educated palate understands the concept, is a near perfect expression of my classic coping mechanisms. It is, for me, a very sensual experience (always the draw of over-eating for me…I am a hedonist at heart). Also it’s more expensive than drugs, which plays well to my old habit of generating short term feelings of empowerment by blowing money. And, while rewarding with food isn’t the best strategy for losing weight, sushi isn’t a bad choice.

I did well, though. I spontaneously stopped at a place in Bethlehem I’ve never been before: Twenty Four East.

It was very nice: A full restaurant with tables and space to walk between them and everything. The other place in Bethlehem I’ve tried is smaller than my apartment. Very Bohemian, I’m sure, but not particularly comfortable. This chef also had a working grasp of English (always a plus) and, as I was the only one there at that time, I had him and the waitress all to myself. I proceeded to have my most “classic” sushi experience to date, ordering a mixed nigiri/sashimi combo at the chef’s discretion. I ended up with salmon, tuna, striped & sea bass and yellowtail in a nice mix. The meal was complemented with miso soup (with a really wild spoon that I’ll have to look into acquiring a few of), a simple green salad with a pretty wild ginger dressing and a true rarity: a cup of tea I didn’t need to sweeten to enjoy.

I managed to resist the urge to read or put my headphone in and listen to an audiobook while I ate, instead focusing on the meal and the environment as one should. It ended up being a completely positive experience and, even with a rather over-the-top tip, only set me back about $25. Could I afford it? Well, that’s a question subject to interpretation…my best answer is “sort of” ;-). For quality like that it’s not bad at all and, to put things in perspective, in days not too far past I wouldn’t have thought twice about dropping double that amount for a far inferior product at Wegman’s. That’s one thing I’ve noticed with sushi (anything served raw, really)…when you pay for quality you really taste the difference.

Now the real problem is that there are a couple of friends I’d love to take there, all even broker than me and treating someone would be a major budget item…

Thanks for listening and Happy Holidays :-)!

J.D. Salinger Fans: Time to get your sh** together ;-)!

2010-08-21T05:02:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

Some things just demand to be shared and odd, damaged soul that I am, I think this is one of them...

Yes, that's right folks...a toilet. But not just any toilet, mind you. Proportedly the toilet proudly used by J.D. Salinger, currently availible on Ebay.

Hopefully this won't develop a strange association with lone gunman assassins.

This piece of vital, late-breaking news brought to you via UrbanDaddy, which has a lot more interesting stuff on it than author's toliets ;-). Check 'em out!

Thanks for listening :-)!

Poem: "Opportunity"

2010-08-16T03:54:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I got this via The Art of Manliness and it made me think...

* * *

Opportunity

By Edward Rowland Sill

This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince’s banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.
A craven hung along the battle’s edge,
And thought, “Had I a sword of keener steel-
That blue blade that the king’s son bears,-but this
Blunt thing-!” he snapt and flung it from his hand,
And lowering crept away and left the field.
Then came the king’s son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle-shout
Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.

* * *

Opportunity is indeed valuable, but useless without the vison to see it and the drive and courage to exploit it. I've let many opportunities slip by for lack of one or the other of those qualities. How about you? Think about it...I know I will be.

Thanks for listening :-)

For Reflection: Personal Accounts From Hiroshima

2010-08-09T03:59:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I saw this on Gizmodo the other day and found it very powerful and moving. Be warned, the images and words are extremely stark and graphic, as well they should be:

http://gizmodo.com/5606053/this-it-how-it-feels-to-be-under-a-nuclear-attack

Much has been said and written, of course, about the pros and cons of the nuclear attacks on Japan. Everyone has thier own opinion and is well entitled to it. Here's mine, for anyone who cares.

Pain and death are inherent in war, as are injustice and horror. Civilians have almost always suffered worse than the actual combatants, much less the initiators of war. Even in the much-romantacized medieval times, the most common tactic of strategic war was rampaging through helpless civilian populations, destroying the enemies' infrastructure in an attempt to provoke them into sallying from difficult and expensive to take fortifications.

The attacks on Hiroshima and Nagasaki command attention for the same reason America's losses on 9-11 do: because they were unique, focused and unprecedented.

Near as I can tell, estimates of the total casualties from both attacks hover around 200,000. Horrible indeed, and I don't think any sane human being could help but to feel empathy for that kind of wholesale slaughter, particularly of civilians. On the other hand, a little research tells us that total casualty estimates in WWII fall roughly between 50 and 80 million, with roughly two-thirds of those being civilians and no small number of those attributable to Japan, whose own military made brutalization of civilian populations in it's conquered lands a matter of routine policy. True, most of the civilians of those two Japanese cities likely bore no responsibility for the acts of thier military, but the same could be said of those of other countries as well. When governments go to war, or make any other sweeping decision, thier citizens are sucked along like it or not. It's the price we pay for the benefits we gain by allowing ourselves to become dependant on increasingly remote and detached bureaucracies. But truly, no matter how much we gripe, who among us is truly prepared to leave our government safety net behind and truly go it alone.

I tend to agree with those who have said that using the bombs to end the war was the right decision. First off, it worked and it's hard to argue with success. Based on my understanding of Japanese culture and philosophy, as well as the kind of indocrination the people underwent under the pre-war and wartime Imperial governments, it seems to me that we would have had to kill millions of Japanese civilians to take them by force. Faced an opponent that they could see, on thier own soil, I think that many of them would have fought to the end, perhaps regardless of what thier government decided. I think what turned the tide was not the fear of death, but rather the fear of implacable death from the sky, with no chance to strike back or die honorably in battle.

Finally, one thing that I rarely hear in discussions of Hiroshima and Nagasaki is the effect those attacks had on later strategy. It seems undeniable that the demonstration of these relatively weak nuclear weapons upon actual population centers made later leaders, equipped with far more powerful weapons, mightly thoughtful about using them. So the "Cold War" remained cold (well-lukewarm, at any rate) because of the fires unleashed on those two cities. Does that make it "right"? Maybe not...but perhaps it makes it a little less "wrong".

So, as you read those accounts, consider not merely the losses of the victims and thier loved ones, but also the gains of the world and humanity as a whole. And, if you would, join me in sending up your hopes, wishes, prayers, chants or whatever it is you do that those will remain the only first hand accounts we have of such a tragedy.

Thanks for listening :-)

New Format

2010-08-08T03:22:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

Just a quick note to you few, you happy few, you band of my readers ;-).

I've changed the format of my blog and added monetazation via AdSense and Amazon Associates. Some have commented in the past that the old color scheme was hard to read. As to the monetazation, what can I say? We all need money and while I don't expect my little blog to make me comfortably well-off, if some stalwart reader sees something they like here and I can get a few sheckels out of it without costing them anything, who am I to argue?

I'd appreciate any comments, criticisms, etc. Coin of the realm is also always welcome, though never expected. Maybe I should add a Paypal donation link too, as my own little cyber begging-bowl ;-). For those of you who get these posts via my Facebook page, you'll probably have to click through to the actual blog site to see what I'm talking about.

Thanks for Listening :-)

Pretty Cool: The "Illusionist" Locket

2010-08-08T03:07:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I love gadgets & gizmos and get more feeds & digests about them than I can read regularly. Still, I get to a lot of them and find more via just general surfing. Recently, I discovered a really kewl one on Etsy.

"The Illusionist", a film I liked alot, featured a really clever locket constructed by the protaganist for his one true love:

Built by hand, it had a hidden feature. Opened one way, it displayed one picture:

but if twisted ad opened another way, it revealed a different one:

As far as I've been able to determine, the original was a movie gimmick that didn't actually work as presented. However, a clever and determined fellow named Jim Anderson has apparantly made a working design and sells them here.

Personally, I love it. It's out of my reach financially and likely to remain so, but telling people about it is free and I'd love to be a part of Jim being rewarded for his efforts with some buisness. If you order from him based on this, please tell him who sent you and should you be inclined to join Etsy (also free, with tons of really interesting stuff in all price ranges), please drop me a line first. As an existing member, I can get credit for inviting you. They are also talking about building this referral system into a full affiliate program, which I would certianly participate in.

Thanks for Listening :-)

Poem: The Art of Outrage

2010-08-07T02:56:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I follow The Garden of Winter Wine sporadically...not because it is inconsistant or I don't like it, but because the content commands more attention and focus than I usually have availible as I skim through my email & blogs :-).

Yesterday, however, Olivia posted a poem that particularly spoke to me and I wanted to share it, along with a hearty reccomendation of her site and work. It's focused on media, of course, but it also aptly describes the way some people who should have known better have judged me, and no doubt continue to judge me, in my personal life. I know they should know better because, one and all, they are the people who taught me not to do it ;-).

So, without further ado, I give you...

* * * * *

The Art of Outrage
by Olivia Magdelene

How tiring to
watch the world
through black screens

Stroked willingly
to fury at any
given sound-byte

Let us shout,
lifting voices
in offense

over things
distorted in
the Carnival mirrors

Let us ostracize
based on no facts,
but sentiment only

If it sounds bad,
then it must be terrible;
The scandal is born

I've learned
the Art of Outrage,
one media spectacle at a time

There's no one here
but you and I
and the recorder for your lies.

* * * * *

Thanks for listening :-)

The Tarzan Yell

2010-08-05T06:18:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

Yeah, I know...I haven't posted here in a while. There's been a lot going on and my normally hit and miss writing habits have been further impaired. Things are improving now and I have some interesting plans for future posts, but I saw something today that seemed like a quick and interesting way to actually get a post in.

I give you the Tarzan Yell, as described in Edgar Rice Burroughs' (denied...go figure ;-) ) copyright application:

* * * * *

The mark consists of the sound of the famous Tarzan yell. The mark is a yell consisting of a series of approximately ten sounds, alternating between the chest and falsetto registers of the voice, as follows -

a semi-long sound in the chest register,

a short sound up an interval of one octave plus a fifth from the preceding sound,

a short sound down a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a short sound up a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a long sound down one octave plus a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a short sound up one octave from the preceding sound,

a short sound up a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a short sound down a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a short sound up a Major 3rd from the preceding sound,

a long sound down an octave plus a fifth from the preceding sound.

* * * * *

Now you know and, as they used to say at the end of every GI Joe episode back in the '80s, "knowing is half the battle". For the other half of this one, I reccomend you keep a pack of good throat lozenges handy ;-).

I got this via The Art of Manliness, which is one of my favorite blogs and highly reccomended!

Thanks for listening :-)!

Taking Chance

2010-03-20T04:09:00.004-05:00

Greetings :-),

Tonight I had a profound experience I'd like to share.

I had spent the evening grocery shopping with my mother here in Wilkes Barre PA, then come over my brother's home for a visit and to spend the night before returning to my own haunts in Allentown. While visiting, Mike mentioned a film he and his lady had really enjoyed watching. I looked it over and decided to watch it after they turned in, as this is my only night off this week and I needed to stay reasonably in sync to sleep this afternoon (I work nights).

You just never know when a simple, casual decision is going to take you someplace you never expected to go.

"Taking Chance" affected me as few films have. A glance at it's Amazon ratings is instructive: 238 five-star reviews and 14 four-star ones as of this writing. I'm not sure why those 14 aren't five-star either; curious, I read every one of them and the closest thing to a negative comment in any of them is: "This is a quiet, fairly uneventful movie, but it keeps you caring all the way through." I have known teachers and bosses who were just uncomfortable giving anyone or anything a "perfect" rating, so perhaps that's it.

I'm not going to recount the film here. My review is simple: you should watch it. Let Kevin Bacon take you along with LtCol Stroble and PFC (posthumously promoted to Lance Corporal) Chance Phelps all the way to the "last 15 yards". Then, as I did, I'd recommend buying two copies. Keep one on your shelf and share it with anyone who will watch it with you. As for the other, gift it somewhere. A person, a relevant organization, just get it out there in a meaningful way. I'm torn between giving mine to one of the local family support groups in Allentown or to the public library. If I can't decide by next payday, I'm seriously considering buying another copy and doing both.

This film does not just tell the story of one dead Marine's journey home. In a quiet, utterly respectful way, it encapsulates the thousands of men and women who have given their lives for our country since 9/11 as well as the hundreds of thousands if not millions who have done so since our nation came into being. If it moves you to tears, as it did me, cry them proudly and without shame for the dead our our country and of all countries and causes throughout human history. If it doesn't, perhaps you should take some time to reflect on why it doesn't.

If you are interested, as I was, in reading the original story you can find it here, on the website of the foundation set up in Chance's name.

Thanks for listening :-)

If you have difficulty reading the text on the image,

please click on it for a larger view.

"Toast" picture kindly provided by Tony Karp.

Text added by yours truly.

Photo of Chance courtesy of Wikipedia

An Apology

2010-03-02T03:44:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

I established this blog to express my thoughts and creativity, which I have done and will continue to do. There has, however, periodically been another agenda behind some of the posts which a review of the archives has made me feel accountable for. Specifically that agenda has been to annoy my former friend and teacher, Chris Lay.

Some of those annoyances were subtle, intended only to be apparent to him or someone very familiar with both of us. Others were a bit more obvious and I don't doubt that some truly innocent things were percieved as more than they were. I make no apology for my feelings and opinions and stand by all of them, nor do I feel that a public blog where anyone has the freedom to reply and rebutt in the same place without being censored is an inappropriate venue for this sort of thing. Certianly, it is better than shadowy, behind the scenes manuverings, the sending of unwanted emails to personal accounts, etc.

Regardless, recent shifts in my perspective and philosophy (mosly but not exclusively growing from my study of Aikido) have illlustrated the unworthiness of any such baiting. I have long been subject to emotional reactivity, to a tendancy to argument and dispute, etc. Much of that tendancy has come to me from lifelong exposure to other people with the same issues, but there's nothing more pathetic than hiding behind one's past to justify what one is doing today. I'm responsible for what I do today, not my parents, my teachers, the people who have wronged or hurt me, etc. We all are. None of us can change the past, only learn from it and move on.

The offense was given here, in public (or, at least, as public as my poor little blog could be considered to be), so the apology belongs here as well. Chris, if you read this, I'm sorry. You may not like what I write here in the future. It's impossible for me to write at any length about my beliefs and philosophy, post my poetry, etc. without touching on our experiances together, good and bad. I give you my word, however, that nothing I write here from this point forward will be with the intention of you not liking it.

Be Well.

Thanks for Listening :-)

In Memory of George Leonard

2010-01-10T04:54:00.002-05:00

George Leonard with Wendy Palmer

Image courtesy of Bu Jin Design

Greetings :-),

I recently learned of the passing of George Leonard, widely acclaimed Aikidoka, writer and co-founder of Aikido of Tamalpais.

Although I never met or studied with him, more's the pity, Leonard Sensei had a major impact on my life. I first encountered his writings in the book "Aikido and the New Warrior", which ignited my serious interest in the philosophy (and, more recently, practice) of Aikido. He contributed several essays to this collection, but most significant to me was "On Getting A Black Belt At Age Fifty-Two", which has been thoughtfully provided by Google Books here. By good fortune, the redactions elsewhere in this book preview seem to have missed this piece entirely :-)!

I read two of his other works: "The Silent Pulse" and "The Ultimate Athlete", finding them interesting and informative, and I fully intend to aquire more. I've compiled a list here, if anyone else is interested. It's not comprehensive, but some of his earlier work is pretty obscure.

I liked the way he thought and wrote, the passion and love he had for his art. It can be felt strongly in the interviews here and here. He began his Aikido training at age 47 (in 1970, shortly after my first birthday) and managed almost another forty years of training and teaching after that. As I stumble through my own 40th year of existance, contemplating and trying to implement radical changes in my own lifestyle and attitudes, I find his story even more inspirational. Hopefully, you will as well.

Picture courtesy of Tony Karp,

text added by yours truly.

Thanks for Listening :-)!

Poem: Going With The Flowing (2009)

2009-12-21T05:51:00.000-05:00

Greetings :-),

A new poem, for a change. Spontaneously generated in the middle of the night, as most of mine are ;-).

This one is dedicated to someone who will know that when they read it.

Actually, come to think of it, two people likely to read it will know it's about them. But the one it irritates will be wrong...

Going With The Flowing (2009)

Flowing electrons by my ear,
invisible, flowing waves around me,
flowing words and thoughts

Flowing movement…
Flowing liquid…
Flowing spirit…

Or is that spirits?
At least they are good spirits,
or are they?

Be like water,
transform it to wine if you like,
but never water your gin.

What’s worth doing is worth doing right.

Tonic for the glass,
or the soul?

It’s all in the going,
the knowing…
and the Flowing.

Thanks for listening :-)

Thoughts on Aikido

2009-12-07T03:57:00.007-05:00

Morihei Ueshiba, creator of Aikido

Image courtesy of Wikipedia

Greetings :-),

Recently, I returned to regular martial arts training by taking up Aikido. I’ve long been fascinated by this art and drawn to it’s philosophy, but have never found an instructor I could afford to study with until now. That’s an interesting story in and of itself: a classic martial arts archetype brought to reality. One the very first day I began exploring Craigslist, I found a recent ad placed by Chad, who has become my guide on this new journey. Longer than most ads, it was more of an essay and spoke directly to my own beliefs as few have. He wrote of his preference for a close teacher-student relationship and his desire to keep money out of such relationships. He wanted to teach and was looking for someone who wanted to learn. I became that someone. Chad is quirky, informal and unconventional, traits which have characterized many of my greatest teachers of the past. I’m not sure how much acceptance his style would find in the ‘legitimate’ Aikido community (whatever that is
;-) ), but he passed my test. He clearly knows more than me in this area and has the ability to convey it in a way I can appreciate and understand, which is all that is needed to be a good teacher. I may not have reached the heights of any of the styles I’ve studied in the past, but I have more than enough experience to know good material when it is presented to me and this definitely qualifies.

I’ve only had two classes so far, but I’m definitely hooked. These techniques challenge almost everything I’ve learned before, requiring me to overcome many deeply ingrained assumptions and rewrite a good deal of muscle memory but, on the rare occasions that I get them right, they feel wonderful. At this early stage we’re not doing throws or hard locks yet (fortunately for me…even this is making my wrists throb!) but, as I do the early techniques, I can hear the siren song of the follow up. I can feel the next move and long to go there…to complete the circle of energy and movement. I understand now, as never before, the comments I’ve read in writings by long-time Aikido practitioners like George Leonard and Richard Strozzi Heckler about the pure joy of the art. I smile knowingly as I see myself starting to manifest the same characteristics they describe: training without thought to time, wanting to do it every day, wanting to try out the techniques on anyone who will let me (Leonard described new Aikido students as a menace to society due to this last factor, though I’ll try not to be
:-) ). I believe myself when I say I could do this all day.

I have not ‘converted’, by any means. I still plan to resume my long-lapsed training in American Kenpo in January and feel that my Aikido training will complement that rather than conflict. In fact, as far as I can tell, Aikido does not conflict with anything. That’s sort of the point of it :-). The principles of movement and power I learned from Harry, the best Kenpo teacher I ever worked with, help me understand the value of the Aikido method and I can already see ways in which the reverse will also be true. Kenpo is also more dynamic and intense a workout than Aikido, at least at the levels I have reached in both styles and I can use the cardio. My own defensive style has never been focused on one philosophy or system, but rather a personalized hodgepodge of many techniques and principles gathered over decades.

As with my readings of Aikido philosophy in the past, the physical practice is already reaching into other areas of my life. As I work to subdue my karate-instilled urge for a hard block and counter, I gain insights into the way I have allowed the combative nature of many around me to seep into me and become reflex, relinquishing control to them. As I strive to keep my elbows in, I’m reminded of the way I tend to let my attention scatter and limit my ability to accomplish things. As Chad counsels me to keep my techniques close to my center, where I am most powerful, I think about the folly of gazing longingly at things out of reach instead of looking at the ground around me to find the path toward them. Finally, as he admonishes my tendency to ‘muscle’ techniques instead of positioning myself to make the desired result inevitable, I recall the strength of my own personality and the ways in which others have found my desire to help them intrusive or offensive. And, in many cases, with some justification. I have always been strongly motivated to seek approval in order to bolster a generally weak self image and often been guilty of defensiveness when denied this emotional fix, leading to unnecessary, self-feeding conflicts.

Thanks for Listening :-)!

Image courtesy of Wikipedia