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Sunday, August 10, 2008

Approaching THE END: 2012?

by Zinta Aistars

"The 400-year paradigm of modern civilization, as currently conceived, has reached the end of its line. Without a radical reorganization and rapid transformation of global practices, there is a high probability that the human species will soon crash and burn, as so many species have before us."
~ Daniel Pinchbeck from The Mystery of 2012

The Sunday morning is so bright with sun, the cool August air so sweet, the breeze so soft on my skin, the silence enveloping me so peaceful, that to consider THE END seems not only improbable, but nearly impossible.

And yet.

And yet, not. When I page through the new catalog of book choices offered by my favorite online book club, my eye catches on the big bold teaser at the top of page 29: DO WE REALLY ONLY HAVE FOUR YEARS LEFT? The book advertised is called The Mystery of 2012: Predictions, Prophecies and Possibilities, by Gregg Braden et al. The teaser continues, "The ancient Mayan calendar predicted that 2012 would be the end of the world. But what exactly does that mean? Will we go out with a bang or a whimper? Will we witness the apocalypse or the birth of a new age of enlightenment? Twenty-five experts on the 2012 debate present their answers …"

A light shiver goes through me. Four years. One moment I am tempted to order the book, curiosity tugging insistently at me. The next, all too quickly, I turn the page. I am uncomfortable. The thought of not only my life, but the lives of my children, my family and friends, of life as we know it, coming to an end in such a short time—four years!—is almost beyond bearable. Never mind the bleak days when this and that goes awry in my life that I toss out the careless comment, oh, I wish I could just die! When recently facing the scare of a possible diagnosis of cancer, I knew better. I do not want to die. And even less, I cannot, cannot bear the thought of my loved ones passing away. Even at the very threshold of such a thought, my mind clenches like a closed fist and turns away. NO.

It was only last week, however, that I sat with my aging parents, both in their 80s, at their kitchen table, the same one at which I'd sat as a child, that I heard my mother whisper her fears of impending death. Even while her physical self ages and withers, her spirit is still vibrant and young. Young and hungry for more living. My father still dreams of all the masterpieces he will paint. The future still holds promise for them. They have attended the funerals of countless friends. Dropping like flies, my mother says, shaking her head and breathing a long, heavy sigh. I'm not ready.

Are we ever? Perhaps some of us are. Those with clean consciences, who have righted wrongs, made amends, subsequently lived good and loving lives, and made peace with their God. Who knows what fears lurk in even a good man's heart? The unknown, after all, is unknowable. We have only our fears and our faith to face it.

I'm not sure my answer to my mother was of any comfort to her. But I told her that there was a part of me that envied her and my father. Their lives have been long and rich. Even the experience of being refugees in the brutalities of war, when the Soviet army invaded their homeland, Latvia, and drove them forever away from the place where they had their deepest roots, and do still. They have managed to live good lives, nonetheless, with two daughters nearby, a wide circle of grandchildren, and a tightly knit social circle of their Latvian friends. They have had each other, for better or for worse, near 60 years as companions. Every night, they fall asleep spooning for warmth.

Come what may, I think, they have had a good share of the best life has to offer. My own? My heart has been broken more than it's been mended. In spite of various pretend lovers since, it has been over a decade since I have made love. I once had one of those pretend lovers say to me, at least you have known love. Indeed, I have. Although the saying, better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, never fails to make me cringe. There is no settling for anything less once one has known true lovemaking. It is the sacred. All else will forever pale in comparison, leave the heart aching in memory. The casual embrace, the unions of the many lonely, the poor, crippled cousin of true intimacy—mind, spirit, body simultaneously entwined—whimpers and slinks away, back into the dark, seedy shadows from whence it came.

I think of my own children—the generation to come. Their children, as yet unconceived. While at times I have longed to see their future faces, there are increasingly more times that I fear for their futures. I consider the generations behind me, lying down with peace on their death beds, knowing their seed will thrive in the years ahead, know lives better than their own. Can we still hold such an expectation?

Four more years.

How might we change our lives now if we knew this to be true? Oh, the apologies made, the avalanche of apologies, this time, finally, sincere. I imagine those who would finally reunite and those who would finally separate to pursue a truer intimacy. I imagine the stacks of resignations at work places. I imagine the homes abandoned and the homes finally found. I imagine the weapons of war laid down while others would be taken up, if only in denial and fear.

Yes, I can imagine the fear. The air would reek of it. The churches and mosques and meditation chapels and synagogues would fill to brimming, the whispers and chants and murmurings of desperate or resolved prayer vibrating the air like a tangible frequency of electricity.

I can imagine the joy. In those who have suffered in silent martyrdom for too long, the hope of a finality the best news they could hear.

I imagine prisons falling open like cracked eggshells. The stampedes. Fists raised to the air, bellowing lungs of freedom cries, so quickly followed by wails of impending doom.

Four more years.

I imagine artists, myself among them, contemplating the tools of their art. Paper and pencil, the keyboard and blank pages. What still needs to be said? What does one write when the moment stands solitary and without another to follow it?

The artist contemplates his paintbrush. How many years did Michelangelo need to paint the heavens, the mere hand of God? Far more than four.

Perhaps only the musician will play, fingering the weeping strings of his guitar, yet once more dancing over the keys of his piano, because music is the straightest line to the heart. I imagine the sorrowful violin as the Titanic sunk into dark and chilly depths. Music will be the final art, singing us in our passage into the unknown.

Four more years. For those of conviction and faith, it would be the time to prepare for a wonderful and final journey. The heart would tremble with ecstasy.

But tomorrow is Monday, and it is still only the summer of 2008, and so we will clamp down the alarm with a groan when it sounds in the morning and rise from our varied beds, worldwide. Some of us will immerse ourselves in work of meaning; others will complain the entire day of their meaningless and unappreciated labor, and change nothing. Humanity will know the full spectrum of emotion and experience in one day, and the days to follow. Life and death and all that comes between. As always.

The possibility of THE END is undeniable. We cannot know. Even those of us with a deep faith cannot know. We can only wait and wonder. We can only hope to do what is right in this next moment, and the moment that follows, and so be ready for whatever comes. Countless more centuries of a better life … or an end to the agony. A new age of enlightenment … or simply the closing of a door. The last door. With no more doors behind it.

It is wise to be ready for either. 2012 may be no more spectacular than 2000, when many feared the changing of the zeroed century. Yet there is wisdom in living our lives, always, under any condition, as if there are only four more left. If nothing else, it sharpens the mind. It alerts the sleeping heart. It corrects the list of priorities. It teaches us to create a blessing in this moment, now, rather than to forever be anticipating that which may or may never come.

1 comment:

  1. Hello,

    I am a 2012 advocate. It is NOT the end of the world. It is the end of the world as we know it. I am not looking at it as the end of the world, something to be feared. I am anticipating the new world, the changes that will be made.

    As an author I think about all the unsaid words, stories, and truths I want to express. Will there be time? Probably not. However, what I have to say will be valuable even after 2012. That gives me hope.

    I have had 2 cancer scares. Both times after they had passed, I asked my husband if he would have lived differently if the scare had not gone away. His answer was yes. "So why," I asked him, "shouldn't the changes be made anyway?" That is how I feel about 2012. If we feel we need to make changes because of that, then why aren't changes made anyway.

    Good topic. Good post. I just love what you wrote!


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Custom made tarot card hat

Here's one of my wonderful, regular customers with her custom made hat. She sent me tarot cards that were meaningful to her, and told me to add a flash of red. I had the black and white hat, which she wanted, and she found tarot cards that mirrored the color scheme, rather than using the usual, more colorful cards.
I was very pleased with the outcome and she looks great in the hat!

  1. this is great! have you seen this fabric? Dairy Fabric

  2. Thanks Anne. Wow that is one unusual fabric!

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Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Pod Cast

Thanks to the fine folks over at for the interview. It should be airing on Friday.

1 comment:

  1. Thanks for talking to me! I had a lot of fun, and hope to have the opportunity to bring you on the podcast again.


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Christian Mythology

Happy Sunday People. Of course my condolences goes out to the injured and those who passed in yesterday's disaster. Let's just get to reading then, shall we? No long talk. Imagine a world filled with glory and love for Zeus or Ra or Horus. So much awe and worship given to all these gods. It existed … Continue reading Christian Mythology

My Window’s Experience

Happy Wednesday people. And a happy new month to y'all. I'm glad to be back. Belated happy birthday to Angel Ackah, Priscilla Allotey and to Emmanuella Acheampomaa Acheampong. You guys rock. Let's get to reading then shall we? I've been having these thoughts quite lately. Been asking questions of why we go through the things … Continue reading My Window’s Experience

Review of Dear Future Wife Video

A stunning representation of a brilliantly put together piece of poetry; putting it mildly, that is... The poetic display was refreshing to say the least. The deep baritone voice, the smooth, synth background music; it was simply… Splendid! Nicely Done. And I felt a part of the video from start to finish. From the props used to the camera angles to the transitions; everything was just enough to feel a part of the video.

Acceptance… Divine Acceptance!

Happy Wednesday peeps! It's wonderful to keep coming your way week after week. Oh and Belated Happy New month too! Here's to all my silent readers and the ones who PM me when there's been silence on the blog for a while. You guys are the real MVP'S. Thank you so much. I'm happy to … Continue reading Acceptance… Divine Acceptance!

The Art of Spending

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd I'm back! Did you miss me? Of course you did. Lol... Thanks for holding out the door for me. My return is not glorious without you. Work took me away a while but I'm back and school will be resuming soon. Let's just hope for the best ok? Bless! I wrote this back in … Continue reading The Art of Spending

Sinner & Saint

Happy Sunday my pipo. Again, I'm really sorry for not being able to post on Wednesday. Someway, somehow things keep coming up. Pardon me. Belated happy birthday to Dorcas Dameh, Gideon Assan and Judy-Anne Darko-Nyarko (who inspired this story). Let's get to reading then, shall we? Kwamena had a problem with everything. E-VE-RY-THING! And his … Continue reading Sinner & Saint

Before the Final Stage

Happy Sunday Guys! I'm glad we are meeting again today. Apologies for failing to post on Wednesday. Let's just say, time flew too fast. Anyway, on to today's post. Let's get to reading then, shall we? Joel Embiid is nicknamed "The Process" or more elaborately "Trust The Process." With a style of play and story … Continue reading Before the Final Stage


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Adam Smith

Brendan Gleeson isColby Culter
Colby Culter
Lyndsey Marshal isKelly Cutler
Kelly Cutler
Rory Kinnear isP.C Lovage
P.C Lovage
Sean Harris isGordon Bennett
Gordon Bennett
Tony Way isNorman
Anastasia Hille isMrs. Crawley
Mrs. Crawley
Mark Lewis Jones isP.C Pollock
P.C Pollock

Movie Story: Three generations of the rowdy Cutler family live as outlaws in some of Britain’s richest countryside – hunting hares, ram-raiding stately homes, and taunting the police. Struggling to retain a way of life fast becoming extinct, Chad Cutler ends up caught between his father’s archaic principles and trying to do right by his kids, whilst the full force of the law is finally catching up with him.

Original title Trespass Against Us
IMDb Rating 5.9 4,366 votes
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Bummer, LIVE with Kelly & Tony Goldwyn on Tuesday November 08, 2016 already happened. Check out some of our other great upcoming events so you don't miss out again!


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Marjoya E: 66th Southern Regional Press Institute

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(Photo by: Marjoya Ellidridge)

Last week the Southern Regional Press Institute took place in the Student Union on Savannah State University campus. This event is held for all Mass Communication majors to meet professionals in the field as well as being informed with important useful tips and information. The information that is gained from these events are for students to gain knowledege for their future.

The opening session consisted a panel of 3 men and 3 women sitting on a stage. There were plenty of women in the room most of them dressed in professional attire.  The speakers were also dressed neat and in business attire. There were a great amount of men who attended the event as well. Although some men just looked like they came because they were required to. I say this becaue their attention wasn’t focused on the speaker rather it was on their phones or their friends.

The main Speaker Michael Ottey spoke about his career and his life of being the first journalist in South America. His speach informed us what key things helped him be successful while ensuring that women are capabale of being successful also. The women who also spoke showed confidence and confort during their speach.

Their were many women who were consultants of the different events aswell as the leaders of the workshops. Women were very much present during this event.

J;Lockhart , SRPI “Being Consistant”

On Febuary 23rd and 24th , Mass Comm students at Savannah State University classes were canceled due to the Southern Regional Press Institute. At SRPI different successful people come and speak to the student giving things like words of encouragement , resume building and even the things that it took for the to get where they are today. Opening the ceremony we had Savannah States very own Kimberly Starks , a former tiger and Professor Sandra Earley. During the ceremony Ms . Starks received the Louis J. Corsetti  Award for Excellence in journalism. We also were able to hear form Michael Ottey , The first black Journalist in South America ! He gave us tips on becoming a great journalist and expressing the importance of being better than the competition and  how the road to success requires you to be consistent and will involve you remaking yourself.fullsizerender

J;Lockhart , Viola Davis “Not 1 ,2 But 3 “

Actress Viola Davis poses for a portrait during the Santa Barbara Film Festival in Santa Barbara, Calif. on Wednesday, Jan. 28, 2009.  (AP Photo/Matt Sayles)

(AP Photo/Matt Sayles)

Viola Davis became the first African American Woman to the Grammy’s, Emmy’s and Oscars by acting.

Viola Davis Accomplished something not many people are able to say that they have done . Ms Davis accomplishments has gained her entry into the “3 crown club”. This club is for the few actors on the big screen who have won a Oscars, Emmy and a Grammy award. There are only 23 people who have completed this accomplishment. Ms. Davis gives a speech of acceptance saying that ” There is one place that all the people with potential are gathered, the graveyard “after that opening remark of her speech everything else shows the thankfulness she has for being able to win such an award and accomplish this achievement

For a Woman to win all 3 awards she has to be a “standout” because woman, especially women of color have to work a little harder to become seen as competition. Ms. Davis did ust that and her hard work and achievements earned her a spot amongst a group of people not even 10 percent of actors in the business get to be apart of.

T. Clark: 66th Southern Regional Press Institute

Photo: Taylor Clark holding a Miss Jessie’s sign at the Southern Regional Press Institute

From  February  23rd through February 24th, the Southern Regional Press Institute 66th annual event was held for Mass Communications and Journalism students to help guide students in their journey to success. With a focus of “Crisis Communication: Ethics and Accuracy in a Digital World,” there were workshops set in place for students not just for Savannah State, but others were welcomed, as well as faculty. During the required session,  the opening session, freelance Journalist Michael Ottey spoke of the key things that helped him to his success as well as what it will and may take for the new millennium to succeed .

With this opening session there were also other key components that stuck out most. Attending this session were mainly females who’s questioned pertained to more of the emotional appeal of success, such as how did Mr. Ottey feel about certain situations, and mainly the male responses were more detailed in “how to’s,” such as “how did you accomplish this, how did you connect with people.”

There were also women of this opening session: Kimberly Starks and Sandra Earley, both women of journalism.  Kimberly Starks, former Savannah State University Tiger, is the  manager of Media Relations for Georgia Lottery. Starks  was awarded the Louis J. Corsetti Award for Excellence in journalism.

Both women showed different stereotypes of women. Starks didn’t say much but her posture and stance showed a lot. Sandra Earley, more at the end of her career showed humor and comfort with her position. Meanwhile giving her speech, she displayed the position of comfort for the guest. While they both represented different peaks of their careers they both represented success.

E.Hampton/Woman in charge @SRPI

Photo by Ericka Hampton

Savannah State University hosted it’s 66th Annual Southern Regional Press Institute for the various mass communication majors on February 23-24, 2017. The turnout was excellent. There were many students that attended from the local high schools to surrounding colleges. SRPI is for those wanting a career in the mass communication world. SRPI offer workshops that are conducted by professionals within the field.

The opening event of SRPI started on Thursday with appearances from Savannah State’s own JMC professors, Ms. Jessica Sparks and Ms. Sandra Early. Mr. Michael Ottey was also a guest speaker at the opening session. He shared his thoughts within the media world, since he have traveled the world.

Soon after the opening session, SRPI hosted numerous, nonstop workshops. In particular I attended, How P.R Pros Can Anticipate Crises at Their Own Organizations.  This workshop was mainly for individuals seeking careers within Public Relations. The director of this workshop was a female by the name of Ms. Kimberly Starks. Ms. Starks is an APR, manager, and works within media relations for The Georgia Lottery. This event wasn’t directed by your typical individual. Ms. Starks is an African American woman, who display bravery, determination, and overall womanhood. Beating the odds, this woman was in charge.

K.Stone; “Art is long, life short”

IMG_4196 (1).jpgThe Southern Regional Press Institute event was an event that most Mass Communications and Journalism student was required to attend. During the opening session, I learned that “art is long, life is short” from freelance Journalist Michael Ottey. This phrase means to follow your dreams and your heart while you can. The women of this opening session was Kimberly Starks and Sandra Earley, both women of journalism.  Kimberly Starks, former Savannah State University Tiger, manager of Media Relations for Georgia Lottery, was awarded the Louis J. Corsetti Award for Excellence in journalism. This show the power as woman she is. There stigmas and stereotypes of women in journalism that it is difficult for them to excel but Ms. Starks beats the odds. Sandra Earley, while giving her humorous speech, Ms. Earley entertained the crowd. She helped the presence in the early morning to be uplifted.

One of the workshops I attended was dominated by women. It was a workshop called Career Preparation led by Wanda Lloyd, Kimberly Starks, and Serena Garcia, all women in the media. During this session i learned how to prepare for an interview, Resume and portfolios, how to market myself, things I should and should not do. Each one of them held a high position and accomplished many things in their field.

The workshops I attended were mostly dominated by women which showed that women has the power to excel in journalism.

Precious Hinton: Southen Regional Press Institute Event

(Photo by: COMM 2107’s Precious Hinton)

This past week the Southern Regional Press Institute was held at our illustrious university. The event was filled with students who are mass communication majors in the region. We all came out and met with professionals and professors to get acquainted to plan a successful future.

The opening session in the ballroom included very uplifting and necessary speakers. The speakers informed us about great equal opportunities for both genders in the business world. However even though the event was not specially aimed for women there was a greater about of women in the room then men. One significant speaker was Mr. Michael Ottey. Mr. Ottey was the first black journalist in South America. He gave us tips on how to be successful in the journalism career field. Mr. Ottey explained to us that the way he became the journalist he is today is by staying curious. He told us to always “be strong and have thick skin”


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Review: Nate Ruess @ Wilton’s Music Hall, June 10th 2015

I’m leaning on the balcony that wraps around the side of the atmospheric Wilton’s Music Hall, eyeballing a middle-aged man who is perched on a bench to my right. The South Walian support act, Hannah Grace, has just charmed us with her compelling vocals and overuse of the word “lush”. Now there’s a teeny wait until the main attraction appears and Mr Captivated over there hasn’t relinquished his Kindle since he arrived. Until, that is, Nate Ruess starts to sing.

He’s rarely mentioned in the mainstream media without the title of his best-known song tacked in front of his name. Unfairly so, perhaps, considering that his music career began long before We Are Young, “that catchy song with the drums”, became part of his moniker. But tonight’s setlist, which includes three songs from previous album Some Nights, makes me wonder how keen Nate really is to shake off his fun. past.

*insert obligatory excuse for quality of iPhone camera here*

*insert obligatory excuse for quality of iPhone camera here*

Almost shyly, he follows his six-piece, multi-talented band onstage dressed in an oversize baseball jacket and trademark ankle-skimming jeans. His understated apparel is a real contrast to the flamboyant showman he becomes when he opens his mouth to sing. Girls and grown women alike (and probably even some men) begin to scream so loudly at the sight of their idol that I wonder if they’ve actually spotted Harry Styles at the side of the stage instead. Nate smiles widely, however, knowing that he is the focus of their admiration.

He wears this smile of unadulterated pleasure throughout the evening, like a child who has just learnt that he can sing. His joy is infectious. We smile as he hops, skips and jumps curiously around the stage as though performing his own version of the Cha Cha Slide. We laugh as he performs a piano-backed ode to London – apparently one of his favourite cities – and jokingly chastises us for our endless traffic jams. We even giggle during arguably his most sombre song, Just Give Me A Reason, as he conducts our valiant attempt at singing P!nk’s part of the Grammy-nominated duet.

Let’s rewind to the opener, Great Big Storm, which is taken from his new album Grand Romantic. One of my favourites of the night, it’s a storming (ha) string-backed success that wouldn’t seem out of place on Some Nights. You would expect that Nate, as a newly solo artist, would want to distance himself artistically from his previous work, but as we are treated to more songs from the new album, it is clear that his present sound is not as different from fun. as he might have hoped. That said, I don’t think that is necessarily a bad thing.

Of all the new tracks played, What This World Is Coming To is definitely most divergent from Nate’s fun. days. When I first listened to this earlier in the week, I could only describe it as a rejected Take That acoustic number. It seemed to have all the required elements: the faux-melancholic lyrics, gloomy guitar twangs, anguished harmonies. I’m pleased to report, however, that my opinion has now changed. It may not be the Ruess sound we’re used to, but it’s a bloody good song in its own right.

The fun. and The Format stalwarts are chanted with vigour by the capacity crowd, spurred on by the energy of the singer in front of us. In spite of his constant prancing, Nate isn’t even out of breath and his eyes are as wild as they were when he first appeared. As he dances like a kangaroo on Red Bull, it’s surely a miracle that his voice remains as perfect as the studio versions. His pitch-perfect performance without the aid of autotune further proves that this technique, particularly prominent on bouncy new song AhHa, is merely a stylistic device. These anthems may be made for arenas, but he and the awesome Band Romantic don’t need to say much to get us stomping our feet and clapping our hands like we’re in Wembley rather than Wilton’s.

NR 2

Fun. is one of pop’s marmite bands, and Nate Ruess may be carving the same reputation for himself as a solo artist. But what’s the verdict of the audience, who leave this kebab-shop-filled part of east London chattering excitedly about the spectacle we’d just witnessed?

We love it!

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CARS 2: The Film Babble Blog Review

CARS 2 (Dirs. John Lasseter & Brad Lewis, 2011)

CARS and it’s new sequel opening today, CARS 2, are the most commercial and formulaic films of all the Pixar productions. But that doesn’t mean that they suck – no, they are both fairly entertaining animated kids flicks. It’s just that this new entry in the franchise has a major problem that can be stated simply: too much Larry the Cable Guy.

Way too much.

As Tow Mater, the rusty redneck tow truck friend to Owen Wilson’s Lightning McQueen, Larry the Cable Guy (man, I hate typing that – he’ll be LCG from here on) has been promoted to the lead character here. LCG gets mistakenly caught up in a secret spy mission involving Michael Caine as a British agent Aston Martin model (obviously 007-ish), and his partner in espionage Emily Mortimer, also a sleek European car outfitted with snazzy gadgets.

Meanwhile, Wilson is competing with John Turturro as an arrogant Italian race car in the first World Grand Prix to determine the world’s fastest car. This takes us to the gorgeously rendered locations of Tokyo, Paris, and London which often distracts from the flimsy predictable plot. Eddie Izzard voices a army green SUV billionaire who’s promoting a green gasoline substitute fueling the vehicles in the Grand Prix.

So Caine and Mortimer with the scrappy help of LCG work to take down the bad guys trying to discredit the threat to traditional gasoline. If you can’t guess the identity of the mysterious villain way before it’s revealed then you’re probably not paying attention. Or Pixar has succeeded in dazzling you enough that you don’t care.

LCG was fine in small doses in the first CARS, but its a major malfunction to make Mater the central dominant character. His one note bucktoothed presence grated on me in every scene, and the tired premise of  his dumb luck reeks of comic desperation, which is very surprising in a Pixar film.

No Pixar palette should ever attempt to balance the likes of Michael Caine and Larry the Cable Guy (felt I should type it out this time).

As I said, CARS 2 isn’t awful, it’s just awfully average for a Pixar film. There are some fun sequences, but after the company’s heights of the last several years (RATATOUILLE, WALL-E, UP, TOY STORY 3) this sequel feels like treading water. And with its over abundance of country bumpkin crap via one of the unfunniest and irritating comedians of all time, it barely keeps afloat.

Oh yeah, there is a amusing TOY STORY short called “Hawaiian Vacation” before the movie so that’s a definite plus.

More later…

Despite the amazing anomaly that is TOY STORY 3 the summer keeps on suckin’. But if you bypass the multiplex and head to the indie/art theater you may a few interesting diversions. Okay, at least one:

HARRY BROWN (Dir. Daniel Barber, 2010)

Tiny white titles on the side of the screen tell us “Michael Caine is Harry Brown.” The lettering is dwarfed by the darkness of the rest of the frame. The title character fares at bit better against the darkness – at least at first. We see Caine waking up in his South London flat to face the grim day. He has his head held high as he walks through his neighborhood on his way to the hospital to visit his dying wife (Liz Daniels). There is a particular noisy graffiti covered underground passageway he hesitantly passes.

After his visit Caine plays chess at a shady pub with a long-time friend (David Bradley) who is also afraid of the gang activity, but to a greater extreme. Bradley has armed himself with a old army bayonet and fully intends to use it against the harassing hoods. In the night Caine’s wife dies; he is unable to be with her because of the additional distance he must travel by avoiding the tunnel. The next morning Caine is visited by police detectives (Emily Mortimer and Joseph Gilgun) who inform him that Bradley was murdered – the killing happens off-screen but we do see some of the offending incident leading up to it.

Caine, of course, takes the law into his own hands to avenge his friend’s death. He gets in a shoot-out in a drug den; he offs a few of the punked-up thugs, and hunts down the king-pin while the police close in. My wife called it “Gran Torino UK” and, yeah, there is quite a bit of that in play – a pushed to the edge war veteran, who after his wife dies, takes on the gangs that are threatening the well-being of his neighborhood. It’s much darker and grittier than Eastwood’s film – in fact the stark white faces of the actors
and the washed out look made me think that it could’ve been just as effectively shot in black and white.

While some sections like a way-too-long montage of police interrogation may be muddled, Caine alone gives the film a hearty gravitas. It’s maybe a minor movie but Caine owns the screen in a major way. He’s utterly believable in every moment – from his grieving over his wife to his calm intensity when facing down his enemies. HARRY BROWN has a predictable vigilante premise yet it’s still satisfying – take away the cell phone camera footage and it’s the same kind of claustrophobic thriller that could’ve been made in any era.

(Dirs. Brian Koppelman & David Levien, 2009)

Once again Michael Douglas plays a crassly ambitious businessman who alienates everybody around him. No wait; this isn’t WALL STREET 2: MONEY NEVER SLEEPS – that’s not in theaters until September. Here Douglas plays Ben Kalmon – a divorced defrauded former car dealership tycoon who cheats on his girlfriend (Mary Louise-Parker), borrows money from his daughter (Jenna Fischer from The Office), and spouts out existential advice about every topic to whoever will listen to him.

Louise-Parker wants Douglas to accompany her daughter (Imogen Poots) to a college interview at his alma mater. You’re right to think that is a bad idea – he’s a womanizing sleaze and despite her youth, Poots is and cynical and promiscuous to match . Jesse Eisenberg (ADVENTURELAND, ZOMBIELAND) shows up as a campus guide who Douglas gives some unheeded romantic guidance to. Where this goes to from here was unpleasant enough to watch; I’d rather not have to describe.

It’s hard to decipher what we’re supposed to take away from Douglas’s character. At first he’s a fast talking comic figure who we’re supposed to laugh at in a “that old dirty codger” way but as the pitiful dimensions of his unlikability widen each scene adds up to little more than a series of collected cringes. It benefits sporadically from a good cast – Susan Sarandon as Douglas’s ex wife appears to delight in her character’s confidence, Fisher has some strong moments standing up to her untrustworthy father, and Poots savvily strides through her cutting scenes. Eisenberg just does his patented nervous kid shtick but it’s not his fault – he’s not given enough here to do anything else with.

Danny DeVito lightly steals the film as a deli owner who knew Douglas back in his college days. DeVito dispenses the only real wisdom (and some of its only humor) the film has to offer and it’s nice to see him on-screen again with Douglas – they were co-stars in ROMANCING THE STONE, THE JEWEL OF THE NILE, and, my favorite, THE WAR OF THE ROSES. Otherwise the film doesn’t have enough of an emotional arc to it. It’s well made with convincing dialogue but its tone is too reserved and its narrative lacks drive.

Seeing Douglas interact with college students made me nostalgic for a his much better film that tackled some of the same themes – THE WONDER BOYS. There Douglas’s Grady Tripp was a thoughtful yet jaded man truly at a crossroads, here his pathetic character is just a jerk in a large hole he dug himself and I found myself not caring if he ever gets out of it.

More later…

(Dirs. Tomm Moore & Nora Twomey, 2009)

It was a bit of a surprise that this was nominated by the Academy for Best Animated Feature Film of last year, because in the current computerized cartoon climate it looks distinctly out of place with its old school hand drawn design. THE SECRET OF KELLS concerns a curious kid (voiced by Evan McGuire) in the 9th century living in the Monastery of Kells. His stern uncle, Abbott Callach (Brenden Gleason) fearing Viking attack, forbids him to leave the protective walls enclosing them and venture into the mystic forest. Of course, that’s where he’s gonna go – especially now inspired by the elderly Brother Aidan (Mick Lally) who requires the boy’s help to finish his mighty magical book.

Our intrepid lad journeys into the glowing lush forest to gather berries for ink and meets a playful yet spooky fairy – Aisling (voice of Christen Moony). She guides and aids the boy also adding some cryptic warnings. Moony breathes considerable life into the piece, that is until she starts to sing (thankfully there’s just one song). The pace is tight as it winds through its earnest storytelling, but unfortunately the flat look of its animation, and the fact that its chosen style makes it look like The Powerpuff Girls gone green, detract greatly from the earnest sincerity and its otherwise stable sense of wonder. Its admirable nobility is what got it Oscar nominated, but its lack of tension and grip to its tale, elements that the winner UP had in spades, left it deservedly on the sidelines. At least since it has no thematic intensity, it’s one you don’t have to fear about taking the kids to, unless you fear that they’ll fall asleep.

Don’t consider this a complete pan though. THE SECRET OF KELLS does contain a lot of pretty imagery and the story is fairly solid, I just wish it had more oomph.

Speaking of needing more oomph:

CITY ISLAND (Dir. Raymond De Felitta, 2010)

Nearly every member of the Rizzo family, a working class Bronx family, has a secret. Father and correctional officer (he hates being called a prison guard) Andy Garcia is taking acting classes which he doesn’t tell his wife (Julianna Margulies) about, causing her to believe he’s having an affair. Their daughter (Dominik Garcia-Lorido) is working as a stripper at a sleazy club because she got kicked out of her first year of college. Their wise-cracking son (Ezra Miller) has a fetish for overweight women and is eyeing their next door neighbor (Carrie Baker Reynolds) who just happens to have a website catering to people who, uh, have fetishes for overweight women.

Also add to the mix Steven Strait, Andy Garcia’s long-lost-just-out-of-prison son, who, of course, Garcia hasn’t told anybody about – not even Strait knows he’s Garcia’s son. Garcia brings him into their home and then we fret as his wife and daughter are attracted to him – something that could have been avoided if he just told them the situation. This movie is something that could be avoided in one swift family meeting. As it goes each scene is a joke on the scene before it and not a very well timed or funny joke. The addition of Alan Arkin as a crusty acting teacher (at least he’s not a quipping grandparent who dies in the last third) just confirms the contrived and quirky nature of this tired material.

At one point, Garcia gets an audition for a Martin Scorsese film (don’t worry – Scorsese wisely doesn’t appear). Only his acting partner Emily Mortimer, who yes, he didn’t tell his family about, knows this and encourages him. These scenes are sort of sweet as Garcia has a believability about him and Mortimer makes the most of an underwritten (and unnecessary) role. If the sitcom sensibility and overreaching comic tone could have been dropped and the characters were given room to be people and not sketch premise devices, CITY ISLAND could’ve really been something other than just a watchable throwaway.

More later…


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Losar Tashi Delek

IMG_0748 (2)It’s almost Losar (Tibetan New Year), meaning that the Year of the Male Fire Monkey is soon upon us. I can hardly imagine a more dynamic, even frenetic, combination of characteristics than “male”, “fire”, and “monkey”! It will be interesting, as always, to see what the coming year brings.

To my great surprise, it is already February. January disappeared in a flurry of activity, anxiety, and snow. There are a lot of changes underway in our household as our eldest child charts a path towards independence. I’m not sure any of us are actually ready for that transition, but it seems to be happening nonetheless. There is no time dilation quite like parenting. Individual days last forever while entire years fly by. In the beginning, you are completely and utterly responsible for every aspect of their care, required to make every decision that affects them, and then suddenly they become young people deciding on their own what will determine their future course. It’s a powerful series of lessons in impermanence, patience, equanimity, and many other difficult virtues.

I think 2015 can be summed up for us as a year of seizing opportunities, and when opportunities did not clearly present themselves, making ones to seize. I’m proudest of the ways in which we colored outside the lines. Confronted with many challenges involving our eldest child, we went bold and sent him off on a month-long Outward Bound course in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota, followed by another month on a dairy farm in Pennsylvania. At the time, these decisions felt desperate and expensive and to be honest, neither one yielded the precise results we had hoped for. And yet, I think both were precisely the right decisions to make. They watered seeds of growth in him that have led to greater confidence and more personal responsibility. Having made these decisions, we can look back on a very difficult decade knowing that we really did try everything we could think of, which is sometimes the most you can strive for as a parent.

2015 was a year of personal growth for me as well. I seized opportunities that often felt like taking huge risks and in the process I learned a lot about myself. I attended two weekend retreats through the Still Water Mindfulness Practice Center and twice flew to Denver for Dying with Confidence Phowa retreats led by Anyen Rinpoche. In August, my husband and I traveled to Copenhagen, Krakow, and Prague, following in the footsteps of the great astronomers Tycho Brahe and Johannes Kepler and thoroughly enjoying seeing and learning so much that was new. In October I participated in a long weekend Secrets of InterPlay workshop, pushing my comfort zones as I participated in a small, supportive group who together played with forms involving movement, stories, silence, and song. I found a tremendous amount of internal resistance over vocalizing in public – but I persevered and found my voice to sing. In December, I took part in a workshop to learn TRE, tension and trauma releasing exercises designed to help the body release deep muscular patterns of stress. Once again scary, challenging, boundary-pushing – and ultimately very rewarding.

I am grateful for the year past and grateful for the year come. I am determined to move forward making the most of what is present, for there is so much possibility and so little time. As Mary Oliver wrote, “A lifetime isn’t long enough for the beauty of this world and the responsibilities of your life.” And yet as Winnie-the-Pooh also said, “Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there someday.”

Be well! Losar Tashi Delek.

After My Friend Phyllis Shows Me the New York Times Obituary Headline: “Lou Michaels, All-Purpose Player, Dies at 80, Missed Kicks in ’69 Super Bowl”

When I die, let them write about
all the mistakes I’ve made.
Let them mention in the headlines
how many rejection letters
I’ve received from The Sun.
Let them say, “Missed her calling
for Broadway back in 1987.”
Let them say, “She trained hard, but
never won a Nordic skate race.”
They can note how my children
fought in front of company.
How every chocolate cake
I made sank in the center. How the beets
in my garden were never bigger
than golf balls. How I never even watched
the Super Bowl, much less
knew who played for the Colts
back in 1969 while I was still
forming in my mother’s womb
and Lou Michaels missed two
field goals that helped the Jets win.
What do any of us really accomplish?
My friend Wayne says,
“We do what we can
and have mercy.” Yes, let
them say I did what I could.
Let them say that I loved
the best I knew how and messed
that up, too. It’s what we do,
we who are kicking our way
to the back pages of the paper.
Well-intentioned and foundering,
faithful and confused as we are,
we mess up. Yes, mercy on us,
mercy on all our failing little hearts,
how they beat so sincerely, mercy
on this longing to shine, this
reminder again to kneel.

by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
Note: The quote is from Wayne Muller’s A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough (Harmony, 2010).

2 thoughts on “Losar Tashi Delek

  1. Thanks Michele!!! Xoxoxo 😀

    I would love to live Like a river flows, Carried by the surprise Of its own unfolding. John O’Donohue

    Be realistic: plan for a miracle. Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

    All is in process & all is well. :D:D

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Boom – Boundaries now live on Ninja Shop

We’re happy to report that Boundaries, is now available from the Ninja Tune shop, via this link

Here’s the accompanying press release:

Boundaries represents some of the strongest tracks submitted to the 64 Bar Challenge mix album project. It’s a showcase of beats by producers from the US, Canada, Chile, Russia, Australia, and all over Europe and the UK. The moods shift from brooding, dark electronica all the way through haunting beauty and then scenes of brilliant, bright light.
The 64 Bar Challenge
 was a production project undertaken by the users of the Ninja Tune forum. Each producer made a beat 64 bars in length at an elected tempo, and a DJ put it all together. There were six mix albums spanning 2009-2011, with the concluding mix put together with precision by DJ Food.

Highlights include “All Told” by Echo Park, a slice of sunshine from the LA born producer who recently signed to Skream‘s Label Disfigured Dubz. The brilliant Proof of Concept lends two tracks to the album. “How to Ruin Everything” is a melodic piece of music that warms the soul. Other stand out tracks include Algo’s beat “Dark Fracture”, which does what it says in the title. it’s a macabre, twisted track with hints of pure evil. And a hip hop inspired slice of synth lead music from DJ Food as he re works Bobby Corridors’ “What?” track.

The project has been put together by DJ Kovas, real name Peter Griffin, a DJ and producer based in Cardiff, Wales. He began putting the project together in 2009 after pitching the idea to the Ninja Tune forum. He produces dark and moody beats under the moniker of DJ Kovas. Search Google for Timeframe 2009, his self released debut mix album.

His current residency is at Buffalo in Cardiff, running a night called Feed the DJ, where clubgoers provide 15 of their favourite tunes, and he has to make an on the fly mix for them. He currently has a radio show on called The 64 Bar Orchestra.


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Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey (Book Review)

Leviathan Wakes (Expanse #1)Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I read this book only accidentally. It was so good I tore through all 582 pages in less than 3 days, including a work day.

Bookshelves: action-with-a-body-count, creepy-horror-stuff, detective, manly-men-kicking-ass, noir, sci-fi, space, space-opera, futuristic

Leviathan Wakes was waiting among the rest of my library holds, little tag with my name on it tucked between the pages. Huh? Oh, right. I must have accidentally touch-screened this one when I was requesting Scott Westerfeld’s Leviathan (entirely different but also very good, so my new mission may be to read all books with “leviathan” in the title). I read the jacket blurb, decided it sounded interesting, and lugged it home.

What a ride. In the not-so-distant future, our solar system has been colonized. Detective Miller, working for an Earth-based private security company on Ceres, is assigned to find a young woman whose parents don’t like their daughter being a revolutionary and have the money to have her kidnapped and returned to them, whether she likes it or not. Meanwhile, Executive Officer Holden of the ice mining ship Canterbury unwittingly finds this same woman’s trail when he follows the emergency beacon coming from a derelict ship tucked up by an asteroid, right before his own ship is vaporized and Holden, all by himself, starts an interplanetary war.

That’s, like, the first two chapters. Things move right along from there.

It’s all here: Two big planetary powers nagged by a rebel resistance force and the exploited stations on various moons and big space rocks, g-forces and gadgetry, thugs and smugglers and general bad guys, Epstein drives and stealth transponders. Lots of action, some day-to-day of life in a space colony, some political back-and-forth, smidge of romance, a wee bit of horror vis-à-vis an alien life form (no spoilers!), grand heroics. It’s a bit on the noir side too, with bits such as “If the woman still had a soul, it had been pressed thin enough to see through” and “His voice sounded like it had been dragged down an alley by its ankles.” The alternating POV is well done, with chapters switching off between Miller and Holden.

I see now that this book and its sequels were the basis for the “Expanse” series on the SyFy channel. I might have known that sooner if I ever watched TV, but since I discovered it anyway I’m not going to change my ways. This might be my new favorite series.

“There’s a right thing to do,” Holden said.

“You don’t have a right thing, friend,” Miller said. “You’ve got a whole plateful of maybe a little less wrong.”

New words:

Waldo: A remote manipulator, like robot hands controlled by a human.

Steganography: Hiding a message within another message, such as secret code in a shopping list, or writing with invisible ink. The message is doubly safe, because to start with it doesn’t draw attention as a possible secret.

Friend me on Goodreads here: View all my reviews

Follow 99 Monkeys on Facebook here and on Twitter here.

Author: Deborah Lee

I like trees, dreaming, magic, books, paper, floating, dreaming, rhinos, rocks, stargazing, wine, dragonflies, trains, and silence to hear the world breathe.

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Monday, 6 February 2012

Beit Hall, then and now...

Prompted by a contact from a relative of Percy Light, secretary of the Agricultural Show Committee from its early days, I thought it was about time to post my pictures of the Beit Hall, which I visited in October 2011.

I had already done a stretch of gravestone photographing in great heat, thinking to myself about mad dogs and Englishmen, and next on my list was the Hall. I had seen photos of its opening in Hobson's book Showtime, and wanted to see what it looked like now, only having glimpsed it a couple of times from the road. (Kafue still feels relatively open and undeveloped as compared to Lusaka, though the land on either side of the road between the two is rapidly being developed.)

My memories of Kafue are mainly of going to buy hooks for 1 ngwee from one of the few shops, then going down to the river at the Makeni Centre Agricultural Settlement Village (started in the early 70s), where my cousin and I would hook sardine sized fish with our bit of fishing line tied to a bamboo pole, and our 1 ngwee hooks, and a little bread rolled into bait. Great days.

First here is the organising committee for the Agricultural Show in 1925, including the aforementioned Percy Light, who I am told never married, and died in 1941. His mother apparently also died in Northern Rhodesia in 1939.  He was a long-serving secretary who opposed the move of the show to Lusaka, but as we know this was to happen. It appears that he also served during WWI.

This photo from Showtime taken in 1925 includes (back row, left to right) Eddie Kirby, Percy Light, Hubert Kirby (behind Percy), Capt F. Goodson, unknown, M. King, Chester Dean, J Woodrow Cross, unknown, Harry Dunbar, unknown, Alan Girling, Harry D. Frost, (seated)  Capt John Brown, Mrs Mchellen and on the far right Mr and Mrs H W Cross.

Next we have the opening of the Beit Hall in 1931.

The hall was designed by A.T. Flutter, the Beit Society's architect and cost the Beit Railway Trust £4,500, "a special donation obtained through the good services of Sir Drummond", who also opened the building. The building had a ballroom, entrance hall (seen in the middle below), bar, dining room, kitchen and three bedrooms. One can imagine the "wholly delightful dance... attended by more than 200 people" reported by the Bulawayo chronicle.

Later Percy Light was to object to the moving of the show to Lusaka. "Development has now reached such a stage, and so much money has in various ways been spent on the property that the mere idea of letting things go even for one year is barely to be thought of...Members south of the river, who are already sufficiently upset over the dates of the show being the 31st of May and the 1st of June, when they will be busy with their reaping and therefore loth to leave their farms, would, it is feared, be definitely aggrieved and possibly completely alienated... Further, to hold a show at Lusaka would be the thin end of the wedge. An annual show at Lusaka would in all likelihood be clamoured for in future years... The Beit Trustees who made a special gift of the Beit Hall... will hardly be flattered... Sir Herbert Stanley could well be disappointed not to be given the opportunity of attending a show at Kafue, having known it in the old days...  In the holding of the show at Lusaka... a leap is being made into the dark... "

And here is the hall in 2011, not looking so different externally (but read on).

This is the area facing the hall, rather dusty and unattractive.

Elections had just been held and there was graffiti on the wall here.

This must be inside the ballroom where the opening was held. The ceiling was in some disrepair, the stage obscured. There was a church choir here practising, and singing beautifully I must say.

And then I went back in March 2016. We met the committee who have some responsibility for looking after this building, having a meeting outside. They remembered us from five years ago! How was it going, we asked. They were short of money, not suprisingly. We suggested they talk to the Beit Trust - why not... The building itself seems to be slowly deteriorating. Here are some more recent pictures.


text:
Parsley Days

A very serious broody hen

We admire Jessie Jollymore of Hope Blooms for the way she nurtures young people.  Observing what she has done over the years, it is obvious the youth love her and she loves them.  I’ve seen her encouraging the older kids to show leadership to the younger ones.  She told us they have to start learning to work at a young age.  As farmers, we know how important it is to learn good work ethic.  And we know how rare it is.  The Hope Blooms youth who work with us on Thursdays at Victoria Park work hard, are so focused and respectful, and, yes, full of hope.

We welcomed the Hope Blooms bus full of youthful energy again this year.  Some of the kids came in to wash their hands after picking tomatoes, and they saw the eggs collected that day.  “Can we get eggs?”  “Can I stay overnight?”  “I want to see the cows!”  I love their energy and enthusiasm.  One little boy was making a game of who could pick the most tomatoes.  Then he stopped himself: “We need to help the other team because its better if we all pick more together.”  They were here last year, and we hope it becomes an annual tradition.

The Hope Blooms group brought a few Syrian farmers with them for the visit.  I asked one farmer how our farm was different from his farm.  Through Amal, one of our customers who was able to interpret for him, his conclusion was that his farm is much bigger, and we need to use pesticides!  Amal’s sister challenged him on that conclusion, and a flurry of animated arabic debate ensued.

Amal and her mother and daughter made a beautiful Lebanese meal that day, complete with the most amazing tabouleh.  It is a simple dish, with lots of parsley, olive oil, some lemon, a bit of mint, salt, pepper, ripe tomatoes (they have to be really ripe!) and a small amount of bulgur wheat.  This salad packs a real vitamin C punch!  I am a big fan of parsley so this is one of my favourite dishes in the world.  I find the middle eastern cuisine features a tabouleh made of mostly parsley, whereas North American tabouleh is mostly bulgur.  She was insistent that curly parsley is much better than flat leafed parsley (I prefer our flat Italian parsley).  Of course David grabbed the seed catalogue and got her to point out the kind of parsley she would prefer (Titan) and it is likely we will grow it next season.  Even Dakota, who doesn’t really like parsley, loved Fatimah’s tabouleh.

There was so much going on that I didn’t write down Fatimah’s recipe!! Very sorry! Here is another recipe for tabouleh.

Below are some photos from the last little while

Amal with her nephew, between the ginger and sungold tomatoes

Marshall, out standing in his field.                                                                                Even with the drought, thick compost is keeping the greens growing!

Amal’s nephew, sister, and daughter.  They love eggplants!

Fatimah making tabouleh

Amal, Jen, and Jessie

David fixing a leak on Friday night, 5 ft down

Dermot and Erin picking blueberries

In the last two weeks, we got a little less than 2mm of rain

A sighting of the lovebirds!

2 thoughts on “Parsley Days

  1. A wonderful read! Love that David found the right Parsley for next year. Reggie and I just bought the most amazing property of close to 42 acres with a gorgeous orchard, we are now next door neighbours to Brian Ives, he has a market business called Farmasea, would love to have you visit sometime. Keep up the great writing. Andrea

    Sent from my iPhone

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Al Bundy Says That He Is Very Sorry

On behalf of my wife Peg and our kids, Kelly and Bud, as well as our deceased dog Buck and his female reincarnation as Lucky, I would like to apologize to America for all the dumb stuff that my distant cousin Cliven has been saying.

Everyone who knows me well enough to say, “Hey, Al” knows that I am a male chauvinist pig well on his way to hating just about everybody. But my buddy Griff and I could not have remained such good friends if I were also a racist.

Likewise, I am not a freeloader. It’s not that I wouldn’t like to be one, but I can’t seem to pull it off.

So I have a lot of mixed feelings about Cliven.

On the one hand, he sure does know how to freeload. And you can’t help but admire a guy who can clean you out of house and home and then make it seem like it’s you who ought to be apologizing for not having even more that he can sponge off you.

On the other hand, he is just a continuous embarrassment because, let’s face it, the guy is more than a few cows short of a full herd. And it isn’t because the feds held onto some of them.

Listening to him and Kelly talking is like an IQ test. If you think that you are following what they are saying, you haven’t got any IQ, or any future hope of ever having any.

Peg has never cared for the fact that Cliven never takes off his cowboy hat, not even when he’s showering or he’s sleeping. And she thinks that he smells a little too much like cow fur.

Anyway, we are all truly sorry about all of the dumb stuff that Cliven has been saying. I hope that you’ll do me a favor and cut him some slack because I think that he’s been breathing cow gas for so long that he can’t tell the difference between it and real air.

P.S. Whenever I talk about my cousin, someone asks me where the name Cliven comes from. I’ll be damned if I know. But Peg had an uncle by marriage whose name was Harry Cloven. Everybody just called him “Hoof,” and I don’t think that he ever got within a hundred yards of any livestock. Go figure.

One thought on “Al Bundy Says That He Is Very Sorry

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text:
Day 14 of Camp NaNoWriMo 2013 – I have a long way to go

Currently Listening To: Set to Fail, by Lamb of God

Word Count: 17,853

So I am way behind word count wise.

By tomorrow, I need to hit 25000 words.

Am I worried?

Why? Because despite falling behind, I am still happy with what I have written so far. I like the direction the story is going in, and I think I am going to enjoy writing this post Camp.

Do I still want to win? Of course! Will I quit writing if I fail? No.

The whole point of NaNoWriMo, in my opinion, is to help writers who need a boost. To some, it might result in a 50,000+ word draft. To others, it’s a draft that was originally a 0 word document. As long as it’s helped you as a writer, then that’s all that matters!

Speaking of winning, my Sunday was full of win. How, you ask? I saw the following show – front row seats and all:

Monty Python's Spamalot

Still full of laughs!

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Various Artists ~ The Exquisite Corpse

Let’s start with Leah Kardos’ “Little Phase”, from Bigo & Twigetti’s Summer compilation of last year. Press play ~ and then we’ll play a game.

The game is called the exquisite corpse.  Most of us played it with paper in primary school, as seen to the right.  I remember playing it during recess and later in detention.  But there’s a twist to this version: it’s played with music.  Using “Little Phase” as a starting point, the music was passed artist to artist through the rosters of Bigo & Twigetti and Moderna Records until it became something entirely different.  The process began last October and concluded this April.  Because the original files were available, the game was also influenced by another ~ telephone.  The last piece, Tim Linghas’ “At the End All Is Black”, bears echoes of the original, yet demonstrates how far the game has progressed.

So what happens in between?  Over the course of an hour, eleven artists (twelve if you count the duo) adopt what they wish to salvage or repeat in the work of the prior contributor.  As expected, the piano and strings continue to sound like Kardos in Madeleine Cocolas’ “Stalactite”, which comes across as a reinvention.  But as the markers are blurred or erased (like pencil lines, faded yet still discernible), the song begins to morph.  Put to rest any fears that listening to The Exquisite Corpse is like listening to a long remix album, because it’s a set of constant change.

New elements enter almost immediately ~ voice in the first, followed by Ed Carlsen’s peculating percussion in the second.  Tambour knocks the music back to modern classicism, adding a sense of sudden poignance.  One begins to realize the importance of tone in interpretation: more than just the notes, but the feeling embedded in the notes.  And oh, those bells!  The opening minute of Jim Perkins’ “Flutter” turns the proceedings decidedly dark (blame the cello!), but when the deep drums enter, the track becomes a battle between darkness and light, the final victor yet to be decided.  Lorenzo Masotto wrenches the piece in the direction of the sun ~ which is when an unexpected visitor appears.

Look what they’ve done to my song, Ma!  Yes, it’s Kardos herself, pressing reset, reeling it all in.  But instead of being horrified, she seems pleased, making only minor modifications, ending in static ~ a thread picked up by Mark Harris at the beginning of his elongated entry.  Holkham pushes things even further, adopting the ambience of Harris for a nearly nine minute extension.  Where is the original?  By now, it’s hard to tell.  When applied to the process, the title of Antonymes’ “Half Life” says it all.  The elements break down over time.  Jacob David and Thomas Haahr slowly spin down into a segment of quiet field recordings before Linghas brings it full circle ~ a cylinder instead of a straight line.  We can start again from here.  The corpse is exquisite, but very much alive.  (Richard Allen)

  1. Gfpizzle

    Outstanding review. Im here listening to the album and enjoying it’s sublime beauty but knowing the story behind how it was made makes it so much more magnificent.

    I can’t even tell they’re all remixes. Maybe with more rotations I can piece it together.

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In introducing the motion, Ms Hutchins said that the Acknowledgement of Country reflected a commitment to developing a genuine partnership with Aboriginal Victorians in protecting and preserving their rich history.
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An MOEA official revealed that delegates from both sides have switched the focus of the talk for the agreement from mutual acknowledgement of the results of clinic tests for new medicines to mutual acknowledgement of health-food certification, which involved lower safety requirement.
Doyle explained that mid-level donors should still receive some special treatment, but organizations that must preserve their net income should re-evaluate their acknowledgement strategies and determine what level of investment makes sense.
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For other vehicles, with a claimed value of higher than $500, which are not actually sold but where a false acknowledgement is issued by the donee charity, the penalty is the higher of (1) the product of the highest current individual tax rate (35%) times the claimed value or (2) $5000.
31, 2005, O must provide an acknowledgement to A, containing A's name and taxpayer identification number (TIN), the vehicle identification number (VIN), a statement that the date of the contribution was Oct.
Unfortunately, many good Americans who want to protect the acknowledgement of God in the public square are still unfamiliar with, or don't fully comprehend the reach and power of, Congress' Art.
An on-screen acknowledgement confirms the registration process.
The online system used to collect employee acknowledgement forms streamlined and sped up the process, while reinforcing the organization's focus on adopting more technological solutions.
In addition, Altiris received an 'ISV (Independent Software Vendor) Winner' recognition as well as 'Preferred Product' acknowledgement for six additional categories including 'Patch Management,' 'Software Packaging' and 'Drive Imaging,' among others.


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Be Our Guest

[CW: description of thought processes that can trigger hoarding]

Fox and I spent pretty much every available second cleaning in preparation for Ron’s visit on Friday. It was quite the workout, and somewhat intense … but not quite as intense as I thought it might be. Maybe because I knew Fox was cleaning, too, and I’ve developed coping mechanisms. For example, I found a calendar with beautiful images that I might’ve been tempted to keep, but it’s obsolete (and damaged). So I looked through the images, showed one particularly beautiful one to Fox, then tossed the calendar. Minimal stress.

I’ve also decided to treat clutter like an addiction. Part of recovery (from what I’ve gathered, I’m not an expert by any means) is recognizing that while others may be able to engage in a certain behavior safely – even to their benefit – I cannot. For example, I’ve heard tips about reusing things like wrapping paper – but for me that’s a recipe for disaster. If I let myself think “I can reuse this” I will angst over every decision of what to/not to keep, hoard random items I don’t need, and drown in clutter. No. Maybe it would be ideal to reuse this wrapping paper, but I cannot keep it. Into the trash it goes. End of story.

I lost track of how many bags of garbage we filled, somewhere around 8. Maybe 12?

Continue reading

All I Want for Christmas Is to Breathe

trigger warning: nicotine/cigarette addiction, hospitals, life support, potential anxiety medication side effects

My godmother is addicted to smoking cigarettes, struggles with depression and anxiety, and is socially isolated. She’s been doing less and less and getting tired very easily. She’s been in and out of the hospital with respiratory issues, but this time was extremely scary: at one point on Christmas Eve she was actually turning blue!

I hate hospitals. I watched my father deteriorate when he was dying from lung cancer in a hospital. I was powerless. I could do nothing to help him, my other family members, or even myself. The environment inside (traditional) hospitals is the worst for healing. There’s a whole awesome movement – arts in healthcare – to transform hospitals into healing environments with natural light, curved surfaces, open spaces, pleasant colors, nature scenes, less toxic noise… but I don’t think they’d even started researching that stuff when my father was in the hospital. And the hospital where my godmother currently is has never heard of it, either. This hospital is a contender for a version of Hell. We would have wandered lost in a maze of spaghetti box hallways in drab colors with ominous doors and incomprehensible signs for hours if the nurses hadn’t decorated the area around their station for the holidays. When I saw that I said, “Let’s go toward the bright colors before I have a panic attack.”

When we arrived on Christmas afternoon, my godmother was on her back with a mask suctioned to her face, practically forcing her to breathe. I wasn’t sure if she was conscious. She squeezed my hand with a pulse. When she tried to talk I couldn’t even make out syllables, never mind words. She sounded so small and scared. We told her we were here and we loved her and spoke to each other in hushed voices. I tried to find a song on my phone that she might like, but my data connection was limited and the songs that came up weren’t exactly conducive to healing – for her nor anyone else in the room. I felt foolish as well as powerless.

The hospital staff were talking to her father, brother, and son about putting a tube down her throat that would require her body to make even less of an effort to breathe. Life support. I don’t know what her or their views on life support are, but in my mind it’s worse than death. If a person dies they can be at peace and the family can mourn. Existing for god-knows-how-long on life support is just torture for everybody. There’s no peace, no healing, no recovery, no closure. Just life-destroying medical bills.

I didn’t even need to express my views; the family members with the right to make such a decision made it clear that it was unacceptable. Her brother and son told her she needed to try breathing on her own, it was the only way she could recover so they’d be able to take her home. She was scared, but they convinced her to switch to a mask that would just provide extra oxygen – without forcing air into her lungs. We were asked to leave the room; I was an emotional wreck.

I don’t even know how long I was folded in the cocoon of Fox’s arms, while he worked some kind of magic, before I was able to relax. It was amazing! When I stepped back and looked at him I felt calm, grounded, like my whole world wasn’t shattering.

With the new mask my godmother was awake and able to speak coherently. She wanted to sit up – to stand even! The nurse and everyone else kept telling her she’d exert herself too much and she was fine lying in bed, but she wouldn’t hear it. I asked her why she wanted to stand and she said the wires and tubes they had attached to her were pressing on her chest and neck. As far as we could see they weren’t, but she insisted. After some more back-and-forth, she sat up – practically without assistance.

Only then did her complexion approach normal and she said she was feeling better. She asked for water and talked with us, even smiled at our jokes. I felt connected with her and inspired by her determination as I watched her work to hold a seated position – without back support – and to breathe. In a whirlwind of “you need to do this” and “you look like this” and “are you sure you don’t want to do this” I did my best to remain the voice of empathy. “How do you feel?” “What do you want?” “Is this helping?” “I can relate.” She really seemed to appreciate it.

Physically, she was working to breathe and she said she felt like shit, but otherwise everything was normal. Her lungs are okay considering how long and how heavily she’s been smoking. Her resting heart rate and blood pressure were a bit high, but not enough to cause concern; her blood had plenty of oxygen in it.

But her anxiety was through the roof, to the point where if we weren’t there comforting her it would have interfered with all the physical stuff. In the moments when she was able to retreat into her own thoughts, we could see the pain they were causing her on her face. Guilt. Self-hatred. Anxiety. The realization that she could have died. Knowing she has to give up the one thing that’s been consistently there for her through loss and change and loneliness and the most difficult times. She’s tried to quit smoking and failed because overcoming the chemical addiction to the nicotine isn’t enough. She needs emotional support. She needs something to replace the role the cigarettes play in her life.

The solution she was handed was “Don’t be anxious.” I looked her in the eye and said, “Yeah, but how?” I told her about anxiety goggles, the idea that sometimes it’s like someone has put these goggles on me and everything seems overwhelming and I’m lost and I don’t know what to do and I can’t imagine how the world would look without the anxiety… but if I remember that I’m wearing the goggles I can think, “Maybe it isn’t as scary as it looks right now. Maybe that thing that seems so horrible isn’t as bad as I think. These goggles are distorting my view.” and I can try to separate myself from it. I wanted to suggest meditation or something she could do to channel the anxiety out somewhere or something, any of the number of measures people have suggested to me and I’ve found helpful. But it was hard to think in that room, hard to get my voice in among the people saying “Don’t be anxious,” and I felt a bit self-conscious about it, too. Would my contribution be taken seriously? More importantly, would she actually find it helpful?

My godmother requested a particular medication for anxiety – not the one the hospital staff seemed to want to use because that interferes with her breathing – so a doctor came in to talk about it. He said something to a nurse about giving the patient her medication when the family leaves, because that’s when she becomes the most anxious. When my godmother told him about the medication she wanted, he expressed concern because “it could cause your stomach to expand and force anything in it to come up and you could choke on it.” “Well, that’s not a problem, I haven’t eaten in three days.” “It’s still a concern. You could suffocate on your own secretions.” A doctor seriously told his patient who was struggling to breathe moreso due to anxiety than any physical ailment that she could suffocate on her own secretions! I don’t even have the words.

Self-consciousness be damned. I raised my voice to make sure he could hear me. “Let’s lower the anxiety in the room please!” I asked if they had any interventions for anxiety other than medication. He said he’d have the psychiatrist evaluate her. I backed off, mostly because I didn’t know what my godmother wanted so I didn’t feel comfortable trying to speak for her. I also didn’t know if the kinds of interventions I could think of would cost the family more than they could afford. But I don’t think – and I didn’t at the time – that she needs a psychiatrist. I learned later that the psychiatrist had already seen her and clearly wasn’t helpful. In the time since that moment, I’ve refined what I wanted to advocate for: someone to calmly inform her of any available alternatives to medication for managing her anxiety while in the hospital, and to follow through on whatever she said she thought would be the most helpful. Bonus points if they could also give her resources for when she leaves the hospital. Someone to listen to her. Why oh why would no one else listen to her?

Hours later, after she had decided she wanted to lie down and we had left to go have dinner, I learned that her son had been permitted to stay with her overnight. The nurse had advocated for it. I was so relieved to know that at least one need could be met: he was better than all the rest of us at noticing when she was retreating into her mind’s torture chamber. He could pull her back out of it.

Overall, I actually consider it to be a relatively positive Christmas experience. I got to connect with family members I’ve been feeling disconnected from, talking and joking and being honest with each other. We didn’t have TV or other convenient distractions; we were each other’s distraction from the hospital. We were there for each other.

Music was supposed to make me invincible, but it didn’t. My cousins’ compassion and determination – and her courage – were what got my godmother breathing on her own again, sitting up and conversing with us. All my years of schooling – and maybe even the lifelong involuntary therapist training – were worth it, because in the middle of hell with all of everyone’s (especially my own) anxiety I was able to help someone by empathizing with her. By being with her in that moment. By being honest about my own vulnerability. And by speaking up. It was a valuable learning and healing experience for me.

All I’ve heard since is that she’s still in the hospital. She texted hugs and kisses to Mom; when Mom asked if she could talk she replied “no.”

Depression is not a Disease but an Indication that Human Consciousness needs to Change

Voces del Tierra

Robin Williams What Dreams May Come-Robin Williams  RIP

After hearing the sad news of Robin Williams and his suspected suicide, I am really tired of hearing some people refer to depression as a ‘disease’. It is not a disease, but more chemical and emotional imbalance of the brain, normally affected by long-term stress, deep trauma or grief, for some it is difficult to diagnose the root cause. Here is a good article written by Dr John Grohol on defining Depression for those of you that are insistent on calling it a ”disease”.

 Furthermore,  should it really be referred to as a ‘mental illness’ either? Through my research and personal experiences, depression is an understandable psychological reaction to the stress and violent deformities of the modern world.

I have tried a number of conventional and non-conventional methods to treat my own depression and I feel the most valuable activities are spending time in…

View original post 1,208 more words


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Pet Store

Pet Store Template

Developed by Jetimpex
  • Templates
    Partner Creator
  • PrestaShop -
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 1
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 2
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 3
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 4
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 5
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 6
theme - Animals & Pets - Pet Store - 7

This theme will live up to all your expectations as it was pre-designed by experienced developer according to the existing e-commercial standards. Straight lines of the elements create accurate look of the web page. Round tags guide user's eyes through the content. Slider displays cute pet images. Navigation is placed vertically in the leftnsidebar.

Shop Type

The template was created for online pet stores.

  • PSD files supplied
  • Multilingual

  • Grid or List View

  • Google Web Fonts
  • HTML5 / CSS3

Basic Features

  • Newsletter Subscription Form
  • Product Wishlist
  • Product Labels
  • Contact Form

Additionnal Features

  • Custom Slideshow

Browsers compatibility

  • IE8+ / Edge
  • IE9+ / Edge
  • Firefox
  • Chrome
  • Safari
  • Opera

Other features

 Additional Features : Favicon, Google map, Google Web Fonts, Sample content, Social Options, Tabs, Tag Cloud
Animation : HTML plus JS
Categories View : Grid, List
Coding : CSS 3, HTML 5, JQuery, Semantic Code
Currencies : USD, EUR
Features : Admin Panel
Functionality : Online Store/Shop
Gallery Script : Slider
Web Forms : Contact Form, Login Form, Newsletter Subscription

Tip: Customize your texts and translations

Want to change the translations on this theme, or add any? No problem! Just use the translation tool integrated into the back office of your PrestaShop Store.

Support and updates

You automatically get 3 months of support for this product.

For 90 days after your purchase, you can enjoy technical and feature support, as well as access to updates available for this product.

Installation and set up instructions are attached (look for Documentation folder).

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Pet Store
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About the developer, Jetimpex

With over 13 years on the market, Jetimpex as a part of TemplateMonster Developer Team, is proud to create & develop Premium Prestashop Templates and Modules.
We oriented on a customer's needs and take into consideration each proposals to create and improve best solutions for merchants and customers.
We also provide 24/7 Live Chat support for each customer.

Need help?

This developer answers your questions in:
en fr es ru

  • Free support
  • Ready to use
  • Developed by a Top Developer
  • Compatibility v1.5.0.0 - v1.5.6.3

  • Version 1.0 (10/19/2017)

  • Available in en fr es


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Leo Readers

Leo Readers Template

Developed by Community developer
  • Responsive
  • PrestaShop -
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 1
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 2
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 3
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 4
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 5
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 6
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 7
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 8
theme - Art & Culture - Leo Readers - 9

Leo Readers is 100% responsive prestashop theme. Readers has is suitable for any e-commerce site and diversified commodities as fashion stores, shoes stores, accessories stores, lingerie stores, hat stores, bag stores and multistores.

  • PSD files supplied
  • Custom Fonts
  • SEO Optimized
  • Multilingual
  • Advanced EU Compliance
  • Multistore Ready
  • Blog System
  • Responsive
  • Graphics included

  • Sticky Shopping Card
  • Scroll To Top Button
  • Quick View Product
  • Grid or List View
  • Standard 5 Step Checkout
  • One Page Checkout
  • Search Block
  • Layered Navigation

  • Background Video
  • Effects & Transitions
  • Parallax Scrolling
  • Image Zoom Effect
  • Custom Width
  • Custom Static Content
  • Custom Number of Columns
  • Custom Background
  • Custom Page Layout

  • Vertical Menu
  • Horizontal Menu
  • Sticky Menu
  • Custom Content
  • Dropdown Menu
  • Mega Menu

  • Retina Ready
  • Google Web Fonts
  • Google Rich Snippets Integration
  • Bootstrap
  • Icon Fonts
  • Lazy Load Effect
  • Support RTL (right-to-left) Language
  • HTML5 / CSS3
  • Sass / Less
  • Mobile First

Basic Features

  • Photo Gallery
  • Sidebar Shopping Cart
  • Ajax Cart
  • Newsletter Subscription Form
  • Display Manufacturer / Brand on Product Page
  • Manufacturer / Brand Slider
  • Product Wishlist
  • Product Labels
  • Product Comparison
  • Custom Static Block
  • Product Slider (Featured, New, Special and Best Seller products)
  • Product Block (Featured, New, Special and Best Seller products.)
  • Featured Categories on Homepage
  • Contact Form
  • Facebook Block
  • Social Block
  • Social Share Buttons
  • Newsletter Subscription Block in Footer

Additionnal Features

  • Full Screen Slider
  • Newsletter Subscription Popup
  • Popup Add to Cart
  • Custom Slideshow
  • Extra Fields on Product Page
  • Product Comments

Browsers compatibility

  • IE11+ / Edge
  • Firefox
  • Chrome
  • Safari
  • Opera

Other features

  • Support Responsive Design
  • This Template is designed for desktop, all tablet and mobile devices
  • Multiple skins by default
  • Colours Themes support
  • Css3 + Html 5
  • Template support for Jquery Effects, css 3. Multiples modules suffix's build-in template for module styling.
  • Powerful Leo Framework
  • Impressive built-in content style.
  • Supports multiple layout options, configured within from back-office.
  • Easy to add custom html module, special, new, home feature via Leo Manage Widget Module
  • Easy change color, template width via the Leo Theme Control Panel Module.
  • Support Multiple Language
  • Support for native language file translation.
  • We translate template to 10 languages.
  • Browser comparison
  • Fully compatible IE8+, Firefox 2+, Firefox 3, Flock 0.7+, Netscape, Safari, Opera 9.5, Chrome
Leo Theme bring ALL of these techniques to your Templates.
Learn more about Leo Theme by experiencing its Demo!
Wish You Success with Leo Readers!

 Modules Theme:
- Ap Page Builder
- Leo Boostrap Menu
- Leo Blogs
- Leo Slideshow

Tip: Customize your texts and translations

Want to change the translations on this theme, or add any? No problem! Just use the translation tool integrated into the back office of your PrestaShop Store.

Support and updates

You automatically get 3 months of support for this product.

For 90 days after your purchase, you can enjoy technical and feature support, as well as access to updates available for this product.

Make sure this product runs well on your store for 12 months with Option Zen!

With Option Zen, you get access to ALL updates for the product for one year following purchase. Support from the product developer is available by email to answer all your technical and feature-related questions.

What is Option Zen?

Option Zen includes two services:

  • Unlimited after-sales support during the period covered by the option
  • Access to all updates for the product during the period

Option Zen is available at a discount when purchasing this product, but, if you miss out, you can also buy it via your customer account later. It is valid up to one year following the date of purchase of your product. The earlier you buy it, the longer you can enjoy it!

What does it include?

The following are included in Option Zen:

  • questions about using the module/theme;
  • solving technical problems related to the module/theme;
  • access to all module/theme updates.

The following services are not included in Option Zen:

  • customization and special development;
  • installing and updating the module/theme;
  • solving problems concerning third-party services, hosting, the server, or the PrestaShop software.

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  • 3 months of free support (Learn more)
  • Ready to use
  • Developed by a Top Developer
  • Documentation included
  • Compatibility v1.6.1.0 - v1.6.1.17

  • Version (07/18/2016)

  • Available in ar br de en es fr it pl ru

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