BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Serious literature fans:
You couldn't do better than "The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll," Alvaro Mutis.
Friday, December 10, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Yes, I want to be attentive, involved in what I am doing, involved in what is going on around me. I want to engage with with friends, my family members. But somehow, I am not really engaged. I am apart. I keep myself that way. I am like Alvaro Mutis' character, Maqroll, known to his friends as the 'watchman.' But my habit of keeping myself at a distance from my own life, and from the lives of my friends and my dearest removes me from what is real. I am always peering through a window trying to see what is real. But I can't feel through the glass. I only observe.
Is that the way I want it?
And, by the way, you couldn't find a better book than, Alvaro Mutis, "The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll."
Yes, I want to be attentive, involved in what I am doing, involved in what is going on around me. I want to engage with with friends, my family members. But somehow, I am not really engaged. I am apart. I keep myself that way. I am like Alvaro Mutis' character, Maqroll, known to his friends as the 'watchman.' But my habit of keeping myself at a distance from my own life, and from the lives of my friends and my dearest removes me from what is real. I am always peering through a window trying to see what is real. But I can't feel through the glass. I only observe.
Is that the way I want it?
And, by the way, you couldn't find a better book than, Alvaro Mutis, "The Adventures and Misadventures of Maqroll."
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Another aspect of the Bush vote was that the great unwashed and the bourgeoisie have been bamboozled by the Republican Propaganda Machine. Patriotism,. The American flag, "socialist" ideas, the danger of gov't subsidized medical care...etc. -- It's really amazing how stupid Mr. Average Joe is; can't he see how good Medicare is? Can't he see how good even Medicaid is (in some states.)
It's great to believe in Democracy, but until there is an educational system, with educable students, we are never going to have a rational, fair and just government. And now they are falling for the privatization of Social Security. Under Mrs. Thatcher the old age pension system was revamped partially privatized--and it doesn't work.There have been scandals and failures. But the Republicans want Privatization. But the Brits also have a National Health Care System.
But, Heaven forefend!! No No!! They don't want that!
Another aspect of the Bush vote was that the great unwashed and the bourgeoisie have been bamboozled by the Republican Propaganda Machine. Patriotism,. The American flag, "socialist" ideas, the danger of gov't subsidized medical care...etc. -- It's really amazing how stupid Mr. Average Joe is; can't he see how good Medicare is? Can't he see how good even Medicaid is (in some states.)
It's great to believe in Democracy, but until there is an educational system, with educable students, we are never going to have a rational, fair and just government. And now they are falling for the privatization of Social Security. Under Mrs. Thatcher the old age pension system was revamped partially privatized--and it doesn't work.There have been scandals and failures. But the Republicans want Privatization. But the Brits also have a National Health Care System.
But, Heaven forefend!! No No!! They don't want that!
Friday, November 26, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
November 25, 2004
The first time I saw waxed fruit I knew it was wrong. -- Fake fruit? Who, I thought, did Mrs. Craven think she was fooling? I was six, maybe seven, but I knew instinctively that I would never have fake fruit in my house.It was off. Its ugliness began to dominate the kitchen. From that very moment I knew that I was better than Brian and his mother. My innocence had been lost and I knew that I could never again trust appearances.That didn't, however, stop me from lusting after Brian's redheaded, slim and smiling mother. I didn't yet know why, but I wanted her. (A precursor, perhaps, of my future, far ahead, when I would lust after a nurse or maid hired by my children to look after me, but will have forgotten why, or what to do with them.)I would have regained that precious innocence, undeserved of course, because between that morning of the waxed fruit and my future years of decrepitude much will have happened.
But padding around the apartment or house in my robe and deerskin, fur-lined slippers (fake fur, now that I think of it) an harmless old man, grey headed, already partly ghost or spirit, I will be glad to pass through the warm dust-mote laden sunbeams that will float through the windows, and stripe the wall and carpet. I know that I will engage a faulty memory, confusing a nephew with a child, a teen-age romance with a French film seen in middle age, or perhaps a business failure with some one else's successful invasion of the perfume import market
November 25, 2004
The first time I saw waxed fruit I knew it was wrong. -- Fake fruit? Who, I thought, did Mrs. Craven think she was fooling? I was six, maybe seven, but I knew instinctively that I would never have fake fruit in my house.It was off. Its ugliness began to dominate the kitchen. From that very moment I knew that I was better than Brian and his mother. My innocence had been lost and I knew that I could never again trust appearances.That didn't, however, stop me from lusting after Brian's redheaded, slim and smiling mother. I didn't yet know why, but I wanted her. (A precursor, perhaps, of my future, far ahead, when I would lust after a nurse or maid hired by my children to look after me, but will have forgotten why, or what to do with them.)I would have regained that precious innocence, undeserved of course, because between that morning of the waxed fruit and my future years of decrepitude much will have happened.
But padding around the apartment or house in my robe and deerskin, fur-lined slippers (fake fur, now that I think of it) an harmless old man, grey headed, already partly ghost or spirit, I will be glad to pass through the warm dust-mote laden sunbeams that will float through the windows, and stripe the wall and carpet. I know that I will engage a faulty memory, confusing a nephew with a child, a teen-age romance with a French film seen in middle age, or perhaps a business failure with some one else's successful invasion of the perfume import market
Monday, November 15, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
So much has been lost that any account of the Katz-Iverson saga will be of necessity mostly surmise and fictional. The reader is invited to gather around him/herself an aura of what might have been and what has formed the existing generation. There are some facts that we know and from them we will generate an history biased by hope, and conjured up in my mind and the minds of my father and mother and, much later, my sister.
My claim to truth is limited by lack of information. For the most part, my story is merely conjecture.
So much has been lost that any account of the Katz-Iverson saga will be of necessity mostly surmise and fictional. The reader is invited to gather around him/herself an aura of what might have been and what has formed the existing generation. There are some facts that we know and from them we will generate an history biased by hope, and conjured up in my mind and the minds of my father and mother and, much later, my sister.
My claim to truth is limited by lack of information. For the most part, my story is merely conjecture.
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Of my proud agnosticism:
In my life I have always distrusted those with provincial fixed opinion, and my faith in the "man who cannot say, 'I am,' who remains himself and another," remains unabated. I am a cosmopolitan, admittedly only half-educated, but still a person with a view of the world that encompasses all. My scale is often in balance, and when one side or another of any issue puts too heavy a thumb on the mechanism I become anxious, and my sense of justice becomes inflamed. I need to see both sides just as I need to have beauty in my life.
mek
Of my proud agnosticism:
In my life I have always distrusted those with provincial fixed opinion, and my faith in the "man who cannot say, 'I am,' who remains himself and another," remains unabated. I am a cosmopolitan, admittedly only half-educated, but still a person with a view of the world that encompasses all. My scale is often in balance, and when one side or another of any issue puts too heavy a thumb on the mechanism I become anxious, and my sense of justice becomes inflamed. I need to see both sides just as I need to have beauty in my life.
mek
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Oh, fond attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain, recorded in historic page
They court the notice of a future age:
Those tiny twinkling lusters of the land
Drop one by one from Fame’s neglecting hand:
Lethaean gulphs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.
William Cowper, “Observing Some Names of Little Note Recorded in the Biographia Brittanica”
Oh, fond attempt to give a deathless lot
To names ignoble, born to be forgot!
In vain, recorded in historic page
They court the notice of a future age:
Those tiny twinkling lusters of the land
Drop one by one from Fame’s neglecting hand:
Lethaean gulphs receive them as they fall,
And dark oblivion soon absorbs them all.
William Cowper, “Observing Some Names of Little Note Recorded in the Biographia Brittanica”
Monday, November 08, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
The morning of the election results Gross asked what our shields should be:
my reply:
At last something to think about. What design on our shield?
The ostrich rampant, head buried in a pile of charoset. A tongue aiguisee. A finger pointed dexter and a second sinister. A wolf ravissant in shadow behind the ostrich. The shield to be transparent.
mek
my reply:
At last something to think about. What design on our shield?
The ostrich rampant, head buried in a pile of charoset. A tongue aiguisee. A finger pointed dexter and a second sinister. A wolf ravissant in shadow behind the ostrich. The shield to be transparent.
mek
Sunday, November 07, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
The election is over.
Depending on your point of view, this might have been the best imaginable outcome or the second-worst possible outcome.
The world still spins.
The election is over.
Depending on your point of view, this might have been the best imaginable outcome or the second-worst possible outcome.
The world still spins.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
An interesting and perhaps telling difference between Gross and Katz is the method by which we mark our places in books. Gross boldly earmarks almost a quarter of the page, while I timidly turn a tiny piece of the page or use a piece of ribbon so as to leave the page pristine.
Gross' earmarking is much more than a bookmark, which only marks a place in a book; while the larger earmarking crease, being permanent is a display denoting ownership of the book's content.
mek
An interesting and perhaps telling difference between Gross and Katz is the method by which we mark our places in books. Gross boldly earmarks almost a quarter of the page, while I timidly turn a tiny piece of the page or use a piece of ribbon so as to leave the page pristine.
Gross' earmarking is much more than a bookmark, which only marks a place in a book; while the larger earmarking crease, being permanent is a display denoting ownership of the book's content.
mek
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Reading Edith Weisskopf-Joelson's Father, Have I Kept My Promise? Madness as Seen From Wthin.
She describes her escape from Austria, and her engagement with teaching.
Then, she quickly draws her introduction to Viktor Frankl, explaining that he believed that psychotherapy works because the therapist helps the patient develop a philosphophy of life that dares go beyond the the body and the psyche. Therapy should be through meaning, and make use of the resources of the human spirit, which, Frankl believed included a will to find meaning, to have goals and to make commitments. He saw the nature of his patients not only determined by their past, including trauma, but also determined by the by their future,--goals and tasks that pulled them forward.
Does this sound like Gross talking???
Reading Edith Weisskopf-Joelson's Father, Have I Kept My Promise? Madness as Seen From Wthin.
She describes her escape from Austria, and her engagement with teaching.
Then, she quickly draws her introduction to Viktor Frankl, explaining that he believed that psychotherapy works because the therapist helps the patient develop a philosphophy of life that dares go beyond the the body and the psyche. Therapy should be through meaning, and make use of the resources of the human spirit, which, Frankl believed included a will to find meaning, to have goals and to make commitments. He saw the nature of his patients not only determined by their past, including trauma, but also determined by the by their future,--goals and tasks that pulled them forward.
Does this sound like Gross talking???
Thursday, October 28, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Filled up the car with $2.08 gasoline. Last fill was 7 days ago. Total was about $31.00.
If gasoline was $1.25 a gallon; the difference would be about $600.00 per year!
Just think, I am giving that $600 to the enemy in Arabia and to the fortune 500 oil companies--and I am not spending it on my family.
If this were a tax imposed bu the democrats would Bush, Limbo, and that little twerp, on Fox be screaming their heads off?
Enjoy your money Mr. Bush.
Filled up the car with $2.08 gasoline. Last fill was 7 days ago. Total was about $31.00.
If gasoline was $1.25 a gallon; the difference would be about $600.00 per year!
Just think, I am giving that $600 to the enemy in Arabia and to the fortune 500 oil companies--and I am not spending it on my family.
If this were a tax imposed bu the democrats would Bush, Limbo, and that little twerp, on Fox be screaming their heads off?
Enjoy your money Mr. Bush.
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
there has never been so much distrust of the voting process as there is now. Not in my memory, anyway. This all started after the vote of 2000. The extremists on the radio haven't helped either. Their constant ad homimum attacks have made people feel that the other side is vicious, crooked, mealy mouthed, stupid--and worse, anti-American. Can you imagine Kerry as an anti-American?
We're in a dangerous place right now.
there has never been so much distrust of the voting process as there is now. Not in my memory, anyway. This all started after the vote of 2000. The extremists on the radio haven't helped either. Their constant ad homimum attacks have made people feel that the other side is vicious, crooked, mealy mouthed, stupid--and worse, anti-American. Can you imagine Kerry as an anti-American?
We're in a dangerous place right now.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Fanatic: A man who does what the Lord would do, if only He knew the facts of the case.
Fanatic: A man who does what the Lord would do, if only He knew the facts of the case.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Does each step carry me only further into empty space? Is that where I have been living?
What is the measure of all things. What is the measure by which I should measure myself? Is my ruler too long? Or is it my cock that is too short?
Does each step carry me only further into empty space? Is that where I have been living?
What is the measure of all things. What is the measure by which I should measure myself? Is my ruler too long? Or is it my cock that is too short?
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Perhaps life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender to dreams--this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness. And, maddest of all, to see life as it is, and not as it should be.
Don Quixote
Perhaps life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender to dreams--this may be madness. To seek treasure where there is only trash. Too much sanity may be madness. And, maddest of all, to see life as it is, and not as it should be.
Don Quixote
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