Toronto night life

Friday, June 29, 2007

A Philosophical Dissertation on Consciousness

Introduction

The question of what our consciousness is, or how or where it is produced, has been the subject of much philosophical inquiry over the past centuries. Some have relied upon spiritual conclusions, claiming that consciousness is one's soul (though today, the term "soul" often means one's emotional individuality). There are different claims across ancient civilization, offering the idea that the soul exists in a physical part of the body, be it the head, the heart, or the genitals. However, with the rise of science, there is a new approach to the question of consciousness. The importance given to consciousness varies sometimes from individual to individual, from school of thought to school of thought. Some philosophers simply marvel at the complexity of the thing, sometimes almost reflectively. Just as some philosophers regard it as a spectular thing that requires explanation, some philosophers regard the question of consciousness as an important underyling factor in their entire philosophy.

For example, as a Vegetarian, I do not actively engage in any activity which causes suffering or unwanted death to a conscious being. Naturally, since I have this philosophical concept of rights, I want to understand this scientific concept of consciousness. Sometimes I am asked whether I would regard the rights of a plant, bacteria, or an insect. To these three organisms, I have no difficulty answering. A plant and bacteria do not contain a consciousness, whereas evidence suggest that insects have a sort of consciousness. But whether or not I am right or wrong in such a response, I will always say, "I regard the rights of conscious beings. None others." If they inquire into which organsms are conscious and if I do not know, I respond that the question of consciousness is one of science, not one of philosophy. As far as how consciousness works, I do not know. I only hope to provide questions that I have thought of endlessly, with no conclusion. To quote Scientific American about a story of Neuroscientists...

"Koch, 44, directs the computation and neural systems program at Caltech. He arrived here in 1986, a time when consciousness research was still considered career suicide even for established brain researchers. But high-profile attention to the subject by Nobelists Gerald M. Edelman and Francis Crick, coupled with advances in functional brain imaging, has elevated the field--and its investigators--to respectability.

"Neurobiologists have since given up the notion that Koch may be dangerously offbeat, despite his having tattooed his arm last summer with the Apple Computer logo to demonstrate his love of the Macintosh (a zeal not even matched by Steve Jobs). The neuroscientist leads about 20 researchers and calls their mission to explain consciousness 'one of the major unsolved problems of modern science.'" [Scientific American, July, 2001.]

Consciousness According to Science...

Brain...

"All thoughts, emotions, sensations, movements, and desires have their origins in brain processes. Without a functioning brain, the human being is reduced to a vegetative state, unable to perform any actions or pessos any feelings, and left without he ability even to alter bodily function in rseponse to change. While this article will consider the human brain, which is more complex and highly developed than that of any other animal, the brains of all mammels, and indeed most vertebrates, are remarkably similar.

"The central nervous system is composed of the brain and the spinal cord. The nerves that supply the rest of the body are attached to the brain and sinal cord and include the motor nerves, which activate muscels, and the sensory nerves, which bring information into the central nervous system. In addition, the nerves that supply the internal organs are found outside the brain and spinal cord." [Collier's Encyclopedia, under "Brain."]

Morality...

"Many animals, however, certainly sympathise with each other's distress or danger. This is the case even with birds. Captain Stansbury found on a salt lake in Utah an old and completely blind pelican, which was very fat, and must have been well fed for a long time by his companions. Mr. Blyth, as he informs me, saw Indian crows feeding two or three of their companions which were blind; and I have heard of an analogous case with the domestic cock. We may, if we choose, call these actions instinctive; but such cases are much too rare for the development of any special instinct. I have myself seen a dog, who never passed a cat who lay sick in a basket, and was a great friend of his, without giving her a few licks with his tongue, the surest sign of kind feeling in a dog." [The Descent of Man, by Charles Darwin, chapter 4, part I.]

Pain and Suffering...

"When animals suffer from an agony of pain, they generally writhe about with frightful contortions; and those which habitually use their voices utter piercing cries or groans. Almost every muscle of the body is brought into strong action. With man the mouth may be closely compressed, or more commonly the lips are retracted, with the teeth clenched or ground together. There is said to be "gnashing of teeth" in hell; and I have plainly heard the grinding of the molar teeth of a cow which was suffering acutely from inflammation of the bowels. The female hippopotamus in the Zoological Gardens, when she produced her young, suffered greatly; she incessantly walked about, or rolled on her sides, opening and closing her jaws, and clattering her teeth together. With man the eyes stare wildly as in horrified astonishment, or the brows are heavily contracted. Perspiration bathes the body, and drops trickle down the face. The circulation and respiration are much affected. Hence the nostrils are generally dilated and often quiver; or the breath may be held until the blood stagnates in the purple face. If the agony be severe and prolonged, these signs all change; utter prostration follows, with fainting or convulsions." [The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, by Charles Darwin, chapter 3.]

Consciousness: What I Do Not Know...

As far as various philosophical thoughts go, I have often been hesitant to publish thoughts without first finding a conclusion (one, of course, based on evidence and Reason). However, as much as I thought on the topic of consciousness, the more I think the more I become convinced that only science, demonstration, and observation, could discover the answers to my questions. The following is an inquiry concerning consciousness...

Our brains, like all other physical things, is composed of matter. In this sense, it is composed of different atoms, such as Carbon and Nitrogen, interlocking to form structures. The structures of the brain give it the capability of consciousness. The question I am presenting is not how consciousness can arrise from basic elements, but how reliant upon the molecules consciousness is. The Atomic Theory can be defined as follows: the theory that all matter is composed of atoms, and that all atoms are composed of simple structures, including protons. All protons are incredibly similar in structure, and an atom's individual is defined by the number of protons it has. A Hydrogen atom, for example, has 1 proton. A Helium atom differs from a Hydrogen atom in that it has 2 protons. Carbon has 4 protons. Iron has 77 protons. Gold has 79 protons. Silver has 47 protons. Uranium has 92 protons. The difference between these elements differs in protons, and a proton changes other factors. For each proton, there is a neutron. For each proton, there is an attraction to another electron. One gold atom, though, will react the same as any other gold atom, as long as conditions are the same.

Describing the Atomic Theroy is only a preliminary to the question of consciousness. Since one Carbon atom reacts the same as any other Carbon atom, what would happen if a Carbon atom in someone's brain was quickly replaced with a different Carbon atom? Since all Carbon atoms react the same, the consciousness of the person would not be altered. This would mean that their thoughts, their ideas, their emotions, their memories, and their personality would not change. Talking to them would not be like talking to an entirely different person. No change would be noticeable. But, what did change? It was only one solitary atom. Still, the organ which produces conscious has one part different.

It is important to understand the different consciousnesses when examining this. I do not mean the many different consciousnesses within a single person, but with many people. For example, if one person's brain was entirely reconstructed to be identical, both people would be different entities. The first person thinks for themself, just like the second person. But, importantly, they are different beings. The first is the first and the second is the second. If one were to have a thought, it would not give that thought to the other. By claiming that each brain is its own entity, I mean that each is composed of its own matter and produces its own consciousness. When we alter one Carbon atom, by switching it with another, we are changing the matter of the brain, though the design remains changeless. The one atom changed. Would that mean a different consciousness is produced? When I speak of a difference, I speak of entity. Would the consciousness change from the state it had before the new Carbon atom to the state after it had the new Carbon atom, this change being the same difference between the entity of consciousness existing between two different persons? WHat would happen if we replaced every atom in the brain with a new identical one? It would be a new existing consciousness, just acting the same, believeng the same, doing the same. The consciousness acts the same, but it differes as an entity. You can have two identical shoes, for example, but they are difefrent in that they are not made out of the same exact matter. The same question exists with the brain and consciousness. The brain, an organ made of matter, produces the consciousness, but if the brain is altered by one identical atom, is consciousness different in entity?

Conclusions

I have tried my best to offer a simple, understandable simplification of my ideas on this subject. Perhaps, though, my thinking of the question of consciousness is diluted by the idea that it is special, or perhaps it is impossible to make such thoughts accurately given what little we know of it, given the poor knowledge obtained by science. Whatever the case may be, consciousness is consciousness, and I have offered my questions and thoughts on it.

www.punkerslut.com

For Life,

Thursday, June 28, 2007

My Final Defeat - Fixed Competition

She probably can't retrieve and One cognize Iodine can never forget...the first time I saw her similar that I was only nine years-oldnot naif by any stretchhaving seen my share of tragedy-my parent's acrimonious conflicts in my first five old age of lifethen the inevitable end of their marriagebut not before 700 old age of devastation called divorcethat destroyed dreamings and deeply damaged heartsI had no thought life could acquire worse...


But it did -


The twenty-four hours I establish her passed out cold on the life room floorI thought she was sleeping at firstIn fact I swore she was just sound asleep to my petrified small sisterwhose large brownish eyes screamed with fearfulness at the site of the exanimate organic structure of our mommyslobber dribbling out of the corner of her mouthsoaking her cheek below the soil of her oculus makeupthat trickled down her sallow tegument on a facedevoid of any expression...


Is ma dead?a small voice whimperedmy sister weeped


My intestine said Yeah she's dead as a doornail


Thankfully my words said No No she's not deadas I carried my trembling, bantam sibling upstairs and tucked her in bed with my promisethat Ma would aftermath up in the morning...as I wondered What if she didn't?


Little did I cognize I would inquire again and againfor the adjacent 20 yearswho I would see when I came place from school...my existent ma - you cognize her - the sober, sophisticated lady -or would I happen that ugly, wicked spiritlurking within my mommy's organic structure again?


I loathed that devil who called me atrocious namesand didn't cook dinner or make laundryI wanted to homicide the monster that growled at meslurring words, throwing things and staggering through our house...


So confused, embarassed, shocked, and dazedby how my ma would really be two people


But I learned early -


Never inquire questions...about anything at allNever tell...anyone - not a soulNever kick about the awful monsterfor fearfulness that it would take my existent ma away foreverNever trust anyone or even my tomorrows...since cipher ever knew if the wicked devil would be backNever experience anything...because it was easier to go completely numbthan to stomach the eternal hurting and loss twenty-four hours after day...


When I got older, I thought I could cover betterbut looking back now I cognize I was wrong...It didn't acquire easier, I just became paralyzedbehind the protective wall I built to be safe from her...


Nobody ever met the first male child I went on a day of the month withneither parent even knew his namemuch less what sort of auto I hopped intoor where we were supposed to be going...Because my dada wasn't around and she was drunkand I was ashamed, so I stood by the presence doorwaiting for Tommy's auto to come up down my streetand as soon as I saw it, I barged out the doorraced across the presence porch, skipped the steps, barely letting my feet touching the kerb beforeI bounced into his Chevy with my gleaming smilethat everyone knew me for -


The beaming face with the perpetually beaming smilethat I faked so often, it almost felt real...My cheerful frontage created to disguisemy existent torment and untold twined torture


Today at 30 years-old, I have got got perfected my cryptic mask as I huddle behind my forced, fulgurant smileand feigned nature of blissful peace and normalcy


Nobody ever acquires even a glance of the existent me - tormented by childhood memoriestossing and turning in my bed every night,haunted by frenetic flashes of bad dreams,reeling in faithless feelings, lingering self-doubt, bare disbelief, hopelessly


searching...for explanations, answersto my inquiries that haven't changed in 20 years...


But anything stopping point to apprehension seems to get away my emotional graspeternally eluding my ravished, raging mindand sense of ground and logic...


I surrended myself to a continual, compulsive scramblethrough a baleful labyrinth of misconceptionsthat I perpetuate with my naif expectationsfor a miracle to magically uncover a meaningful responseto my endlessly, impossible questions...


If I could just find...A eremitic ground whymy female parent have continued to take alcoholic beverage over mefor more than than 25 years...Or a single hint to explicate howI can vie for her love whenmy opposition is a lifeless, speechless, emotionlessloyal bottle of vodka...

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Levels of the Mind

A look at the depth of consciousness and how it can be used in every day life

Most people experience at least three levels of consciousness within their minds, Waking, Dreaming and Sleeping.

But this is a very flat, linear way of looking at the mind. The mind also has depth, as is experienced when transcending in meditation. The mind is a three- or even multi-dimensional experience, which is not limited by either time or space.

Each state of consciousness has its own reality and experiences. If we were dreaming and fell out of an aeroplane only a parachute in the dream state could save us.

In the same way all levels of existence have their corresponding level of consciousness and only by experiencing consciousness on the same level can we hope to have an influence.

Science tells us that consciousness and the movement of thought is an electrical activity that can be measured on an EEG machine. This machine measures the electrical activity in the different parts of the brain. But science also tells us that electrical activity exists at many levels within matter.

The body is a whole being and the mind has the consciousness of the whole. Though the body is also made up of organs and these have their own consciousness. The heart functions on an automatic level of consciousness, giving out waves of energy, which cause the muscles to contract at regular intervals. But within the organ there are cells and within the cells there are molecules and within the molecules there are atoms. At each level the electrical activity operates in its own unique way.

But what is the common theme in this? It is that on all levels of existence there is order, there is progress and evolution and there is intelligence. Science also tells us that, at the finest level of physical existence, there is a vacuum state, a field of pure energy. In this state everything exists in virtual form. This field of pure energy and pure intelligence is the coming together of mind and body: the physical and the mental.

This vacuum state, which is omnipresent, all-pervading, eternal, has been suggested to be a scientific way of looking at the reality of God itself.

So how is this order in nature maintained? It is kept in balance by the existence of opposites. The atom has a nucleus, which is positively charged and electrons, which are negatively charged. The two types attract each other and the speed of movement keeps them apart: forming a balance and equilibrium.

The cells of the body are controlled by the environment in which they find themselves. These have a more sophisticated method of communication, by the use of various hormones and interaction with the DNA. The DNA is like the brain of the cell giving out information and creating the order that forms the structures of the various components of the body.

A group of cells in turn form the components of the organs. These again have their own method of ordering the individual parts.

The main point being the strength of this order: if the cells go off doing their own thing, the system starts to break down. This is the main cause of cancer in our bodies, when cells start to multiply were they shouldn’t.

So how do we strengthen this order, to bring more coherence to our bodies and minds? The easiest way is through meditation and becoming aware of ourselves. This means, in simple terms, taking our conscious mind deep into our subconscious mind, experiencing the subtler levels of thought and of our own physical existence. By reaching the source of thought and becoming in tune with our deepest self, we become in tune with the universe and all that exists in our environment. We become charged with subtle energy and bring this to everything that we do.

Our minds are full of intelligence, but it is only when we become aware of the intelligence, that intelligence becomes intelligent. Therefore self-awareness is the basis of learning, becoming more aware of our bodies and mind and the intelligence that permeates both. We become intelligent, we gain the ability to use our intellect and make decisions at all the different levels of the mind, body and consciousness.

Also, other people can experience this same self-awareness, which we can experience. This experience is the experience of reaching that field of unity. If all the people become in tune with their selves and work from the same cosmic plan, then problems don’t come up. We experience harmony and balance.

We experience all knowledge in its virtual form. This is also the meeting point of all the individual minds of the world in a common universal mind. By putting our mind in tune with the universal mind we eliminate the main cause of stress in the world. When you are in tune with the universal will, you are doing what is right in that place at that time. You experience a frictionless flow of life, which is supported by the environment and all those around you.

As you experience these subtle levels of the mind you begin to realise that it is also intelligent. You can start asking it questions and seeking knowledge. This is another way of gaining knowledge; some people refer to it as intuition, some as general knowledge.

It is also possible to talk to other people at these subtle levels and develop one’s powers of telepathy. As with everything in life, you are limited only by your power to comprehend and desire what it is that you want to achieve.

Monday, June 25, 2007

I've Learned

You cannot do person love you. All you can make is be person who can be loved. The remainder is up to them.

No substance how much Iodine care, some people just don't attention back.

It takes old age to construct up trust, and only secs to destruct it.

It's not what you have got got - it's who you have in your life that counts.

You can make something in an blink of an eye that volition give you grief for life.

It's taken me a long time to go the individual I desire to be. You should always go forth loved 1s with loving words - It may be the last time you see them.

The people you care about most in life are taken from you much too soon...

We are responsible for what we do, no substance how we feel. Either you command your mental attitude or it commands you.

Credentials on the wall make not make you a nice human being.

Our background and fortune may have got got influenced who we are, but we are responsible for what we do.

Maturity have more than than than to make with experiences you've had and what you've learned from them- and less to make with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

You should never state a kid their dreamings are improbable or outlandish- nil is more demeaning and what a calamity it would be if they believed it.

Even when you believe you have no more to give, when a friend shouts out to you - you will happen the strength to help.

Heroes are the people who make what have to be done when it necessitates to be done - regardless of the consequences.

No substance how bad your bosom is broken - the world makes not halt for your grief.

Your household won't always be there for you. It may look funny, but people who aren't related to you- tin take attention of you and love you and learn you to swear people again. Families are not always biological.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In Memory of My Grannio Anna Franz Kline October 05, 1920 - November 05, 2002 (She went
to Heaven on my lone son's 5th birthday - he still makes not know...) May GOD
BLESS HER SOUL...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday, June 23, 2007

From Experience: Is It the Circle of Life?

All of it in one manner or another a portion of my lifetime and not an analytical survey of the manner that concern have changed but a comparing that is not at all difficult to follow or see. What happened to our state now looks to be elusive alterations that occurred as the old age passed by.

Always a ground behind a pay difference always because of the state of the state or because of the existent company I was working for.

Basically it have all boiled down to the ultimate apprehension that it was just the criterion of life country broad had taken a bend for the worse and no one, definitely not me…wanted to acknowledge it or expression at it.

Yes, beyond my capableness to actually crunch Numbers and really see what was happening somehow the American manner of life have changed and it is harder than ever to make what necessitates to be done financially.

Beyond my privation to cognize at all of what have really happened, and understand it. Because the state that I grew up in, the state that was so just to all was slowly changing. So much that it wasn’t really noticeable immediately and if you were too busy trying to do ends ran into possibly you didn’t even believe about it or happen it unusual or sad. It really is sad, but real.

Unions can’t do it anymore. Why? Because we as Americans will not pay the terms of labour labor labor unions and don’t have got to because unions no longer do a difference. Our authorities states that we can unionize and yet it will let the companies that have got had labor unions for many old age to bail out on pensions that were portion of labor union understandings and contracts. What good is unionizing when it intends nothing?

What once was not the norm is now. Women have got got worked for decennaries at destroying the American household as it once was and now just as work force did before us we vie with one another and with them too.

We for the most portion took the original American Dream and turned it into a ego serving egotistical mental attitude and had no existent thought of when we had it all.

We as women went past the married woman and female parent facet of being female and ran to the far side of the concerns and corporate business offices out of some depraved sort of green-eyed monster and why I have no idea.

I cognize that at this point we are far beyond being able to turn around and travel back. I cognize that many would without a 2nd idea throw me to the domestic dogs for even mentioning it.

Still there was a better time and place for all of us and it isn’t going to be easy to happen a place like that in the future. Families that always relied on each other for emotional support now trust on each other to do ends meet.

Families that had a chemical chemical bond of love that nurtured our immature people to great accomplishments and finds have got got turned into households that have a bond that is produced by basic needs.

The college alumnus of today is now in a state of affairs many times of having to look back at a coevals that seriously lived beyond its means. At the same time there are those who for one ground or another establish a place in society that allowed them to come in a comfortableness zone that is now turning into a place of uncertainness and the concern of yesterday coming back to stalk the hereafter is real.

Generations that lived through the Great Depression knew how to dwell without. Our authorities for how many old age now have got told us that there is no recession, no depression and that our state is on a house footing.

In my lifetime I retrieve someone…saying that we would retire in our fifties, that we would have more than time to pass at home…a 4 twenty-four hours work week. Are it my imaginativeness or portion of a novel I read in my school days?

It did not go on and no 1 looks to cognize why.

A time when there was a breadstuff winner in a household and one individual could financially back up a family.

Did we utilize it all up? Did we somehow over make it? What went incorrect with the state and where did all of the dreamings of retirement, educational superiority of our state and the research and happen so of import to our state and our tomorrows die?

The comfortableness zone is fading away and now the political sphere challenges anyone who listens to find a side and take the walking to the extremes that are a regular portion of the state that I grew up in.

If not for the belief that something larger than all of us is out there I would state that there is no hope that it volition acquire better.

Doom and somberness is a awful thing especially for the privileged who have got no thought of what it is to make without.

Has our coevals primed our children to believe that there will never be a time when we will dwell through another time in this state where more than will be life in poorness than during the Great Depression?

I retrieve someone…way dorsum saying that the United States was on the top.

Have we thought seriously of how it would be if history were to reiterate itself and another depression drop upon us?

Life have been good for many. Life have been difficult at times and rewarding at other times. Many of my coevals grew to be far wealthier than their parents could have got imagined and yet is that wealthiness a impermanent oasis that volition resolve and bend into nil more than a memory of what was?

Is it our government, our society, our ethical motive or the rhythm of life that volition tax return us to where we came from?

Friday, June 22, 2007

The Need to Learn... Anew

USELESS, USELESS
THIS entity FEAR,
arsenic ANY FICTIONAL ENTITY
man have BROUGHT TO BEAR,
giving birth TO FEAR,
DESTROYING LIKE FIRE.

NONETHELESS,
YOU struggle WITH FEAR,
arsenic IF IN QUICKSAND
IT draws YOU,
TO YOUR DOOM.

LAYING scar ON SCAR
IN FRUITLESS RAGE,
UPON YOURSELF,
UPON INNOCENTS,
NEVER KNOWING WHO YOU ARE.

UNLEARN

ENVELOPING YOURSELF IN RIGHTEOUS ANGER,
NEVER Type A pace TAKEN
TO ELEVATE YOUR MIND
IN cognition FOR YOURSELF.

RUNNING HERE AND THERE
RUGGED arsenic STONE.
OUTER structure STOIC,
THE real number YOU RUNNING ALL THE SAME.

AS pain COMES FROM ALL POINTS
YOU blind YOURSELF
AND SIT HUDDLED IN THE DARK.
remove YOUR HANDS FROM YOUR EYES.

NEEDLESS DECAY
hate FROM FEAR
KNOW YOURSELF FOR YOU
KNOW THAT CREATION
FOR WHOM God MEANT IT TO BE.

UNLEARN

NOW LEARN ANEW.

By Stan Lewis

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Blood

There was blood on the paper and he continued to stare at the cut like it was some word form of beauty, a perfect mercenary circle that even Plato would bow down his ‘crystal-clear’ thoughts to. He continued to stare at his ain redness substance, wondering ‘why make people name it “blood”?’ His manus was starting to experience somehow asleep and maybe a small bored. All he wanted to make was stretch it to the extremes or even better smack it as difficult as he could to the large bookshelves that were all around the room. Yet, he just continued to stare until his vision started to experience that soft sense of a moony air.

The world became little and he was upside-down. His eyes, coughing merely mascara-toned looks, and his anterior nariss were perfectly smooth and hairless. Then he touched his shirt with fingers that had no nails. The shirt felt strange, like a combination of animate being tegument and flower pores. Obviously, the trousers were followed by the same concerted unidentified material. He looked somewhere down. Interestingly, there were people staring at him, doing gestures, dancing, combustion animals, crying, screaming at him, vocalizing and even bowing their caputs in respect, like he was some sort of Supreme Being…

They all looked suffering to him, and while he wondered why were they doing all that material and why was he so high, on top? Gradually a adult female came up.

‘Who are you?’, asked the adult male eagerly. ‘Your companion, your servant, your love, your hate, the female parent of your children, maybe your ain mother. I am your boss, your neighbor, your past, your present, your future…’ said a alone voice. Stumbled, but more than eager the adult male asked again:
‘Why did you come up up here?’

The adult female responded:
‘To protect you, so you can be afraid; to be protected, so you can be proud. I came because you came first; I arrived because you could never be here without me.’
The adult male studied her. ‘A human masterpiece’ helium thought, and asked again:
‘What is your name?’
‘My name is not important’, she said, ‘You volition love me as a woman, and in other times you will turn me into a man.’
This response stuck him. It made no sense at all loving a adult female and turning her into a man… Was that possible? He looked down. People were more than suffering than ever. Activists and Protestants with large postings where was spelled an unknown region word ‘FEMINISM’ were everywhere. In presence of them other people. Angry-looking shapes and sizes, ready to blast and detonate on whoever was going to upset their way. Sad faces, soiled eyes and crying everywhere…
‘What is going on?’ helium asked her.

‘This’, the adult female said, ‘is called the modern world, where every inch you look, you will happen something modern, different, strange, but acceptable; weird, but beautiful; not equal, but living. Come with me and let’s go a portion of it. This is the concealed past, the growing present, and the damned future. As long as we are together the twines shall stay tuned. I’ll convey you felicity and you’ll convey me joy. Give me your hand, come up up with me…’

She started to come near and closer, until his manus felt that crisp sense again and helium came back to his drone reality.

‘No! Don’t leave!’ he thought. But the adult female was not there anymore. All of a sudden life seemed so far away and for the first time he knew he was going to lose it. But his head was getting colder, every second, or it was just his body… Helium couldn’t tell. All he could recognize was that he kept staring at that reddish matter people called ‘blood’, piece it flowed from his carpuses like a river filled with emotion.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

Who Am I

It is said that behind every great adult male there is a great woman. This could not be additional from the truth!

Next to the side
Of every great man
And
Every adult male wishing to make great things
For God’s Kingdom
Is a great woman.

Each adult male should admit his wife
Let her know, without a doubt,
That she is great.

I have got a great woman
At my side,
And Iodine am blessed.

WHO americium I
THAT YOU WOULD COME TO ME?
americium Iodine CHERISHED BY THE WORLD,
MY NAME
UPON EVERY LIP

WHOM americium I
THAT YOU WOULD SPEND YOUR TIME UPON ME?
FOR WHO WILL rain praise ON YOU,
Oregon STRIVE TO SPEND TIME astatine YOUR FEET,
BECAUSE OF ME?

WHOM AM I
THAT YOU ENVELOPE,
WITHIN YOUR WONDROUS MELODY?
LADY, IS NOT YOUR VOICE
ANGELIC BORN

YET HERE YOU ARE WITH ME,
arsenic IF YOU HAD nothing OF IMPORTANCE,
outside THIS TIME.
YOUR radiance pursuits AWAY
THE sunglasses OF MY UNKNOWNS.

MY unknowns ARE KNOWN.
HOW IS THIS miracle POSSIBLE?
Iodine AM BOTH UNDONE AND COMPLETE IN YOU.
arsenic SUCH,
I AM A VENERATED treasure ALSO.
-By Stan Lewis

Monday, June 18, 2007

Tea

ONE day WE HAD TEA
Type Type Type Type A friend AND ME.

A cup OF HOT TEA
Iodine PLACED BEFORE HIM
ALONG WITH HOMEMADE SCRONES.
BUT HE SAID THIS tea IS TOO HOT FOR ME
Iodine SAID Iodine get ANOTHER right AWAY
HE WAS NOT BEING mean TO ME
HE JUST WANTED TEA.

I REAPPEARED IN WINK
A cup OF cooler TEA
Iodine PRODUCED right QUICK
BUT HE SAID THIS IS TOO COLD
TO put option UPON MY TONGUE.
Iodine SAID Iodine get ANOTHER right AWAY
HE WAS NOT BEING mean TO ME
HE JUST WANTED TEA.

I HEATED THE TEA
HE SAID IT WILL rich person TO DO
BUT THESE SCRONES ARE CHEWY
AND YOU ONLY GAVE Maine TWO.
I SAID I get ANOTHER right AWAY
HE WAS NOT BEING mean TO ME
HE JUST WANTED TEA.

I HURRIED TO THE KITCHEN
AND put option TOGETHER MY best BATCH
TO produce SUCH SCRONES
THAT WOULD knock HIS tastebuds FLAT
I set THEM BEFORE HIM
stack high UPON A silver TRAY
HE SAID THESE ARE TOO FATTENING
AND WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME
YOU POLISHED YOUR TRAY.

THROUGH SEETHING ANGER
I KNEW VERY WELL
THAT HE WAS NOT PURPOSELY BEING MEAN
THAT HE JUST WANTED TEA.
I NEVER Drew THE LINE
I NEVER SAID ENOUGH, ENOUGH
THIS WAS ALL UNNECESSARY
JUST BECAUSE HE WANTED TEA.
-by Stan Lewis

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Ed's Poem

Ed Gallagher Dec. 11, 1907 - Sept. 5, 2004

This verse form was written for Erectile Dysfunction Gallagher, a good friend and neighbor on the twenty-four hours his married woman called me to allow me cognize that he was in the infirmary and wasn't expected to live. I was asked by the household to read this at the assemblage after the funeral service and transcripts were given to all his household members.

It is of import to acknowledge that we volition lose our loved ones, despite the fact that they have got lived to a good age, and especially when they decease young.

People will say
That you lived a good life
You had many old age
With your children and your wife.

You lived a good life
Yes, it is true
But that doesn't intend
We won't lose you.

The sound of your voice
The pace of your step,
These are things
We won't forget.

Your old age on the farm
Were not spent in vain
You raised quite a crew
Through your labor and strain.

Though your sight and your hearing
Had begun to dim
Your caput was as sharp
As a tack or a pin.

Your head was filled
With all sorts of facts
Sports, people, farming,
Living life to the max.

When I came to visit
You expected a hug
And a simple kiss
On your smiling mug.

The visible light in your eyes
When you talked with a friend,
Those are the memories
That will never end.

You will be missed
Of that there's no doubt
And we'll believe of you often
When we're come out of the closet and about.

Or when we are watching
A game on tv
And hear them announcing
He scores, or work stoppage three.

You lived a good life
Yes that is true. But that doesn't mean
We won't lose you!

copyright September 2004

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Read This Article if You Do Not Believe in God

Are you one who makes not believe in God? Well that is one manner of looking at things, but it implores the replies to some inquiries doesn’t it? Answers that faith have conveniently provided for the believers. For case if you chose not to believe, then you now will have got to turn to some very ambitious and perhaps awful inquiries won’t you? Not believing is a batch harder than believing isn’t it? The easy manner is to simply travel for all the accounts of a chosen faith and go forth it at that. No that would not take very much idea would it? If you have got chosen not to believe in a God, Gods or Statues, then here are the inquiries you must first address;

1.) How did the Universe Start?

2.) Who Started it?

3.) Why was it started?

4.) How should I dwell my life while I am here?

5.) What haps to me when I die?

6.) How will the existence end?

Not exactly an easy set of inquiries to reply considering the limited information available is it? Well, if you make not believe in a Supreme Being or Gods you will necessitate to be thinking of possible other replies for these inquiries or you can chose to simply acknowledge you make not cognize and bury these tough questions. For one to be a true atheist they must be willing to accept this challenge and continue to assist themselves understand. Being an atheist in this lawsuit is a much more than intellectual chase indeed. Think on this.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Encourage Each Other

I lift UP MY eyes TO THE HILLS.

WHERE bashes MY aid COME FROM? MY aid COMES FROM THE LORD,

THE maker OF Heaven AND EARTH.

HE WILL NOT let YOUR foot faux pas —

HE WHO watches OVER YOU WILL NOT SLUMBER;
INDEED, helium WHO watches OVER ISRAEL

WILL NEITHER sleep NOR SLEEP. THE Godhead watches OVER YOU—

THE Godhead IS YOUR shade astatine YOUR right HAND;
THE SUN WILL NOT injury YOU BY DAY,

NOR THE moon BY NIGHT.

THE Godhead WILL support YOU FROM ALL HARM

HE WILL watch OVER YOUR LIFE;
THE Godhead WILL watch OVER YOUR approach AND GOING

BOTH now AND FOREVERMORE.

Psalms 121:1-8

I wrote “Upon The East Wind.”
To promote my married woman and come up along her side.
We should always seek to promote those we love,
In hard times,
To look to where
There strength come ups really come ups from.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Growing

Growing aches sometimes;


saying adieu to friends,


to things you’ve known and done


to things you wanted to do.


 


Growing heals sometimes


the smashed dreamings and hopes


of a life you once knew


leading you to a new cognition of yourself.


 


Growing is merriment sometimes


meeting new friends


learning new things


making alterations that feel good and moving on.


 


Growing is necessary always.


Without alteration there is stagnation


death instead of life.


To take to dwell is to take to grow.


 


 


 


 


Copyright 2002

Monday, June 11, 2007

Visiting the Underworld in Malaysia!

There is heavy breathing as the new guys try to get a handle on all the new sensations that are engulfing them as they fall through into a new dimension. When they get there they are surrounded by strange new creatures and plants and other strange things, underwater in the underworld of Malaysia where turtles, sharks and lots of beautiful reef fish are there for your enjoyment.

Malaysian scuba diving is some of the best in the world. Unlike other parts of South East Asia they have good marine law enforcement, so the illegal fishing techniques like blast fishing are kept to a minimum, making for some very healthy reefs. They have left the wrecks under water so there are many to dive. In most of South East Asia the wrecks are chopped up for their scrap steel, which turns s a quick profit but takes away a reef habitat. The Malaysian government is also spending money on public awareness campaigns, and that is paying dividends in the form of less littering that you would see else where in the region.

The scuba diving industry itself is robust and again the Malaysian shine as they have lots of there own instructors and dive master: most tourists like having interactions with the locals and this is a natural place for cultural exchange. Likewise the dive companies are mostly owned by Malaysians which is good for the seas, as the stake holders are the locals, who though peer pressure keep the environment as clean as they can as they directly benefit from it.

You will also meet lots of Malaysians who have taken up diving and snorkeling so if you would like to meet them please feel free to stop by and drop in underwater in Malaysia!

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Saturday, June 09, 2007

Christmas From the Heart

Family turns and moves on, but yet our Black Maria are always together. Getting ready for a household reunion, this verse form was written with the bosom and psyche of a female parent waiting for the tax return of her household from far away places. A boy from the danger of warfare in Iraq, a girl off in a far away place making a new life for herself waiting for the love of her life also to go back from the war, a new grand girl she have yet to meet. While nestled in the mounts of Colorado, the apparent apparent apparent horizon is large and far and the pulling of the bosom will convey the household back to her side, if even for a short while.

Watching

Watching the horizon

Feeling the distance between us

Pounding Heart, Tearful Soul

Watching

Sleepy small eyes,

Struggling to see the world

Make your mark, Leave your prints

Pounding Heart, Tearful Soul

Watching

Tonka motortrucks and attention bears,

Kindergarden, 4th Grade

High School Dances, dreamings being made

Growth and Adventure, Walking down the raod

Make your mark, Leave your prints

Pounding Heart, Tearful Soul

Watching

Returning to my side

Always coming home

Family

Root of Love, Root of Life

Watching the horizon

Feeling the distance between us

Pounding Heart, Tearful Soul

Watching

Victoria Blatzer

Thursday, June 07, 2007

Cambridge Car Hire

There's nothing worse than holidaying somewhere and not being able to get around whilst you are there. Public transport in and around Cambridge is generally good but if you really want to make the most of your holiday and visit some of the surrounding towns and cities in your own time you should thing about hiring a car.

Thankfully Cambridge car hire is relatively straightforward. You will find all the big name hire companies such as Enterprise Rent a car, Budget and Thrifty all offering cut price deals and weekend specials. Most of the branches will deliver to your hotel if you can't get out to the branch to pick it up.

Once you have sorted out your Cambridge car hire there are a number of places you can visit. The famous horse racing town of Newmarket is just 20 minutes down the A14. Or you can go the opposite way and head towards the historical cities of Huntingdon or Peterborough.

Alternatively you can simply meander around many of the winding country roads and enjoy a pub lunch in one of the fantastic village pubs surrounding Cambridge, such as Milton, Histon or Cherry Hinton.

Don't forget that in the UK we drive on the left hand side and we would generally recommend keeping your drivers license on you at all times. Car crime is rare compared to the inner cities but we would still advise that you keep valuables locked in the boot and out of sight as opportunist thieves do operate, particularly at some of the larger tourist attractions.

Click below to find a company to suit your needs.

Cambridge Car Hire

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Tuesday, June 05, 2007

When Humans and Dogs Collide: Negotiations for Today's Changing Times

This morning time I decided to happen myself. I originally looked forward to the Negro spiritual journeying that would define who I was as a person. But then I looked into my mirror and realized that the individual I saw in that mirror was me. Sol I then figured, why pass all this time determination myself when I already cognize where I am?

Since I allotted around 80 old age for this pursuit and finished it in about eight seconds, I had some free time that I needed to give to a cause. I had a great idea: I would purposely drop a domestic domestic dog so that the proprietor of that dog would inquire me what I was doing, to which I could respond, “Well, my cause was to see your reaction and my consequence was, indeed, your reaction.” This would do my cause and consequence almost the same. But I had to give up on trying this experiment, because — after all — where would I possibly happen a dog?

Dogs are amusing people in that people claim to love them, but when it come ups down to it, we have got so many negative footing which go around around them. For example, if you are told that you are being sent to the doghouse, that doesn’t mean value you are being tossed to an country of luxury. More so, you will be sent to the same place as the dog, some little country consisting of a leaky roof and a nutrient bowl. Although proprietors seek to convert their domestic dogs that this is some kind of phantasy land, the world is that most proprietors wouldn’t desire to pass more than than 15 proceedings in one. Those who make pass more than than 15 proceedings are only doing so because they are stuck in the location...

On the other hand, we also have got the sporting statement, “Hey, buddy, I dogged you in that race.” Of course the statement can be without the “hey, buddy,” but what merriment would that be? Such a statement means, basically, that one individual defeated the other in a race in such as a manner that a domestic dog would overcome a human. Now, this is the opposite of the kennel reputation, because here the domestic dogs are given more than recognition than world as opposing to less. This could only intend one thing: the domestic domestic dogs negotiated this with the world in order to guarantee regard from the general populace...

But who are these dogs? And, more than importantly, who were the world asked to negotiate? I don’t have got a job with dogs, but if we are going to negociate with them, I believe we should direct some of our best world to make so. Otherwise, conceive of the possible chaos:

Human: Okay, so let’s negociate here.

Dog: How about you give us the powerfulness to speak, like I am right now, and we will let you to rename tree covering to “speak” instead of “bark”?

Human: You are too fair. Let’s make that immediately. But to do certain you are not getting ripped off, we will throw in some table garbage from an all-you-can-eat-restaurant where everyone believes they are larger feeders than they really are.

Dog: Agreed.

Human: Bark!

But I digress.

Sunday, June 03, 2007

Creating Texture in Watercolor Paintings

Creating Texture

This is the best portion of creating a picture for me. I've learned to see beyond the preliminary washes that start to give form to a picture and expression forward to what can be done with texturing. Sometimes those first washes that set up the composition can look bland and uninteresting. For a beginning watercolorist, those first phases can be the most discouraging. It doesn't look like I desire it, you say. That's where texturing come ups in to convey those forms to life.

I utilize respective tested and true techniques to accomplish the expression I want. My tools are a few very worn brushes, some with just a few bristles. For a worn look, I utilize scumbling quite often. This technique affects using a dry to muffle brush, with fairly concentrated colour is hang-up colour onto a shape. Look at the bowl on the right in this painting. To see this image, chink here. http://www.weborglodge.com/sl_pasta_tonight.htm

Those darker Marks are scumbling. Dry brushwood is similar, but with this technique, the colour is more than like being painted on, with a dry brushwood and concentrated color. The surface of the table was dry brushed to give that wood grain look. Another favourite technique of mine is splatter. I'll utilize it on most anything I desire to give a worn/used visual aspect to. You can see it on the less right of the bowl. All these texturing techniques give fictional character to an object. The bowl instead of being just any bowl is a well-used one. Tons of dinners or bars probably started in that bowl. It also gives it an old-timer feeling, a feeling I wanted to give this rustic still life.

More subtly, shadows, like those under the onion and of the Allium sativum on the onion, aid to set up form. Highlights will make the same thing as also seen on the onion and bowl. I often happen that highlights, whether I've saved the achromatic with masking or I've scrubbed off or am using a spot of titanium White really are the icing on the cake. So if something in your picture looks a spot lifeless, give it a life of its own, with some texturing.

Happy Painting!

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Goosed

I hate geese. I am an animal lover extraordinaire, with the exception of geese. You may wonder why this particular species engenderers such anathema, what could cause a sane, rational, mature woman who is otherwise very kind, to feel the way I do.

When I was five years old we moved from the coast of Oregon to Montana. My Grammy and Grandpa had moved there to homestead and my parents decided to go out too. The ocean air was hard on my lungs and I was sick all the time. There was a 100 acre farm for me to run around on, to build up my strength.

We drove to Montana in a chartreuse 1950 Ford. Mama filled the back seat with pillows and put my baby brother in an apple box beside me. I was in charge of him because I was reliable and loved babies. I could change a diaper as well as women four times my age. There were no seat belts back then, so our nest was for safety as well as for sleeping.

I was so excited the day we left. We were going on an adventure. To a sickly little girl who only attended four weeks of 1st grade, and spent the remainder of the time in bed, ill with fever, this was the best thing that ever happened. I had been put in first grade at five. By then I read out of medical books and huge mysterious tomes. They passed me to second grade by having teacher give me a skills test. I loved school, read everything and made up rhymes all the time.

My brother Richard was my obsession. Unlike an older child who resents the newcomer, I fell right into taking care of him and would rock him by the hour. He was four months-old when he rode to Montana in an apple box. Everything about him was sweet-smelling and fascinating. Mama had given me two coloring books and a box of crayons, but I spent most of the trip fussing over the baby.

As we were crossing the mountain pass, getting close to our destination, I heard my Mama gasp and the next thing I knew she was over the back of the seat, holding my face into the pillows, shrieking, “Don’t look!” It was years later that I learned there had been an accident and a man was decapitated, his lifeless head on the hood of his pickup. Most likely I would never have looked, but the incident loomed large in my child’s mind and I was crazy with curiosity, and my fertile imagination went right straight to work. A big deal only becomes a big deal if someone points it out. When I raised my children I remembered this incident and forced myself not to overreact to something a child might not even notice.

The snow in the pass captured my senses. That was the first snow I had ever seen. There may have been snow on the Oregon Coast, but it was never in such huge, random piles. Near the top we had to stop and wait for a road grader to plow a path for the cars in line. A pilot car would select five waiting travelers and guide them across to the start of the down side. Several times during our slow slide down, families of deer would hop down hills and run across the road. Daddy would apply the brakes and curse at the deer, but we didn’t hit one. There were all kinds of animals around. I would ask Mama what each one was and copy it down in my treasure book.

Daddy and Mama took turns driving the Ford. I had to keep Richard absolutely quiet while Daddy napped in the passenger seat. Daddy was a good man, a hard worker and a fair man, but he had a mean temper to him, and everybody worked real hard to help him not lose it. I would hold Richard to my chest and Mama would tie a dish towel around him and tie it at my back. For hours I would coo to him and rock him. The most special feeling in this world is a warm little baby next to your heart. He was the first of many babies I mothered. Now the babies are grown, but my two ferrets now receive the rocking. My female will sleep for hours being held.

I could tell when we were going into Montana. Daddy stopped the Ford on the gravel to the side of the road. Mama got out and they took turns taking pictures of all of us underneath a big sign that said, “Welcome to Montana, the Big Sky Country”. There was a long way to go yet, but this was the official seal on our trip.

The air had become sweet and warm, and Daddy rolled down the windows. I savored that fresh air blowing across my face. The smells were wonderful. Flowers and farms and huge fields of wheat each contributed to the intoxicating brew. Everything was new and different, and though I had cried about having to leave the ocean behind, this country put its spell on me from the start.

Grammy lived seven miles outside of Kalispell. We went from the highway to a tar road and then to a crushed gravel road. Mama had lived in Montana before. She had kin everywhere. My grandfather and his young new wife lived in Whitefish with their three children, my mother’s step-brothers and step-sister. Iola was a big, comfy woman who taught school in Whitefish for years. I didn’t want to betray my loyalty to Grammy, so I tried real hard not to like her, but she was so sweet it was impossible.

For the moment though, these were future people. Grammy’s ranch was way out in the country. Finally my Mama sighted the house that was captured on film by Grammy’s old Kodak with its fold-out lens. I hadn’t know what to expect, so I was enchanted with everything. All the way out my folks had murmured about Grammy’s imagination and how the ranch was just a plain old homestead. As we turned down the gravel road to the dirt track I tried to drink in every single sensation. To memorize everything I saw. A wonderful little white cottage sat off the road. There was a big red barn out back and several outbuildings. There were flowers everywhere. Grammy passed her love of gardening on to me.

There was fuss and turmoil as Mama and Grammy cried and Walter, her new husband, and Daddy shook hands. Grandpa swooped me up and asked me what I thought about everything. I was mute. Sensory overload rendered me speechless. But Grandpa still smelled like Grandpa…a mixture of flannel shirts and the old briar pipe he kept clenched between his big yellow teeth. He understood that the baby would be the center of attention and took care to make me feel important too.

Grammy still peered quizzically through her wire-framed glasses, her sweet blue eyes a little bit out of focus. She was a little bit of a woman, not even close to five feet tall. So Grandpa put me down and she swooped me up in her floury, flowered apron and I felt serenity fill the world.

The electric hadn’t yet made it the seven miles out to Grammy’s. Grammy hated the electric anyway. Warm candles and kerosene lamps put soft edges on the world at night. There was an outhouse way out back, and once I smelled it, I understood its isolation. Right behind the house was a big mound with a door in it. The root cellar that kept foods over the winter. I excused myself to the bathroom, or outhouse in this case, and began running down the well-worn path. I had just passed the first outbuilding when something came roaring out of hiding, hissing and squawking, wings a million miles wide. It was there I became acquainted with the species know as goose. Before Grandpa could reach me these foul fowl pushed at me with their wings and screeched so loudly I was sure I would go deaf.

Candy and Dandy, the ranch geese. One or the other of them kept nipping at my shirt and trying to get their beaks around my thin arms. Grandpa finally rescued me and sent the homicidal couple to the side of the shed. The adults were all laughing and I realized it was something I was supposed to find amusing.

Candy and Dandy stood at the edge of the outbuilding, still hissing and flapping their enormous wings. Grandpa walked me on past them and let me continue to the outhouse. I had never used an outhouse before. Since there were no gas stations or rest areas back then, travelers found a brushy spot to make a stop, and I had done that many times. The outhouse stood on a little hill, and had a half-moon in the door. The boards were rough and uneven. When I pulled on the leather strap to open the door a cloud of flies were buzzing inside. Big blue bottle flies that shone shiny in the sunshine peering through the sides. The smell hit me and for a minute I considered just going back to the house, but I had to go so I stepped up inside. There were two holes with wooden lids and the obligatory Sears and Roebuck catalogs.

Somehow I managed not to fall into the rancid holes and wiped myself with a page of wringer washers. I would have taken a deep breath, but the stench would probably have leveled me.

Watching carefully through a crack in the outhouse door, I looked around for the disastrous duo. They were no where to be seen, so I started down the path to the house. As I came even with the tack room I heard murmuring noises. My young girl instinct just knew it was the geese again. It was. Out from around the tack room they came, heathens from hell.

Grammy’s ranch was wonderful. I ran around so much that first day that I was awake all night screaming with cramps. It was my first memory of pain. Grammy and Mama took turns massaging my calves. Grammy got a jar of bear grease and worked it into my legs. Finally I fell asleep, after one of Grammy’s hot toddies. The nastiest stuff you ever put in your mouth. It was her cure for everything and I grew to dread any sign of infirmity that might call for forcing that noxious fluid down my throat. It had another benefit though. It was whiskey laced with lemon and who knows what else. I never had to worry about becoming a drinker - just the smell of whiskey nauseates me.

Next day the time finally came when I couldn’t put off a trip to the outhouse any longer. I prayed one of the adults would escort me past those Nazi geese. Wrong. I was a big girl and they were only geese. As soon as they got used to me everything would be fine.

So, there I went, wobbling on legs that threatened to collapse beneath me. Fiery pain from my calves pulsing with my heartbeat. I slunk along as quietly as I could, looking for any sign of Candy and Dandy. About midway I heard a rustle and my heart went cold. It was a rustle of goose wings. Waiting, I knew I would never make it to the outhouse. Here they came! Bullying, biting and beating with their wings. Until they caught wind of the bear grease. Their beaks shook like castanets as they tried to wipe the grease off that they had gotten onto themselves from me.

Apparently geese don’t like the smell or taste of bear. Both of them backed off and turned to waddle away. Not feeling particularly sympathetic, I raised my arms out wide and went after the devilish duo, squawking at the top of my lungs. Then I began making bear noises, or what I perceived as bear noises. Those geese goose-stepped as fast as they could go. Shrieking in absolute rage, the geese headed for the barn without looking back.

I was intoxicated with power. For the next few years I rubbed myself with bear grease every day. It wasn’t much appreciated at school, but I didn’t care. As long as it kept those horrible geese away from me, I was thrilled. My little behind remembered the feeling of being goosed and I questioned God as to why He had to waste time making geese.

Bring on lions and hippos, Tasmanian Devils - I’ll take them all on. But if I never saw another goose again in my life I would be delighted.