BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

July 25, 2005

Neo-Crom?

Today’s Financial Times has a piece describing the Neo-Croms of England.
Neo-Cromwellians, that is. Who are they? Well, the reader might as well ask who are we?

Approve of the ban on smoking in restaurants? You’re a neo-Crom. How about pregnant women who drink a glass of wine or smoke a cigarette with their meals? Approve? No? You’ve only proven you are a Puritan.

Today’s AOL informed me that New Jersey wants to make it a violation to smoke while driving. This after the state has banned smoking from restaurants, offices, and stores. So if someone—dare I say, “if a girl or a guy?” wants to get into his car and have a smoke by himself, after holding out all day, he is liable for a violation. April Fool? No, I checked, today is July 25th 2005.

If I want to get into a SUV there is a whole segment of the population that thinks I should be castigated and taxed double. If I allow my children to watch TV the Puritans know that I am abusing my children. Should I fail to pack and strap my child into a child cage when I get into my SUV I am liable for a moving violation. No matter, that I bought the gas-guzzler itself just to protect my little darling from the rest of you maniacal drivers.

When I play my CD’s loudly in my car while I drive past your house I am breaking the law —and now on some beaches in New York, I must use earphones or turn the radio off. What about my personal freedom?

I saw my neighbor grilling frankfurters and feeding them to his family last Saturday. Very bad for the children and think of all the gain that is wasted fattening up the cattle prior to their slaughter. Oh, and let’s talk about the inhumane and unsanitary conditions in the abattoir. We need regulation. You should stop eating beef.

When I take my family on a holiday in the forests I am accused of eco-vandalism, and there are many of us who wish to make most of the national parks of limits—or to ration use, perhaps allowing only PhD’s into the woods, and then only after they have proved themselves to be capable of cleaning their campsites and leaving them in better condition than they found them—as any cub-scout would have done fifty years ago. As far as allowing the uneducated into the parks—well, what’s Six Flags for anyway?

And the low prices on JetBlue and similar airlines? More unnecessary pollution. Raise the prices, protect the environment. The masses shouldn’t travel anyway. Let them save their money for their own health care.

We need tighter regulation on advertising directed at children—enough of that candy stuff, I say. And I would appreciate it too, if my granddaughter would stop asking me for those toys she sees on the television that I have asked my daughter-in-law to toss out.

I am amazed that there are governmental restrictions that make doctors fear giving sufficient pain medications—and most doctors fear to protest at the risk of their license to practice


Now, speaking of drugs, dare I point out how much the unsuccessful War on Drugs is costing us? Imagine if the mega-billions spent on that war was directed in other directions and if marijuana and cocaine were as legal as alcohol and tobacco.

On, the other hand, perhaps alcohol and tobacco are next on the New-Crom’s list. Why not?

The Neo-Croms resent our easy pleasures.

mek

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

In many states a woman may not drink alcohol or smoke while pregnant, but she may get an abortion.

mek

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

From this very blog. June 2003

"My job today is to re-file or toss all of my files. At present I have laid them all out on my dining room table in an effort to sort them. Looking at the mass of materials is making me very anxious."

I had laid out more unfiled papers on my dining room table a few days ago. They remain there--untouched.

mek

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

The man who fights for his fellow-man is a better man than the one who fights for himself.
To think is to differ

Liberty is the most jealous and exacting mistress that can beguile the soul and brain of man.

As long as the world shall last there will be wrongs, and if no man objected and no man rebelled, those wrongs would last forever.

There is no such thing as justice - in or out of court.

You can only protect your liberties in this world by protecting the other man's freedom. You can only be free if I am free.

True patriotism hates injustice in its own land more than anywhere else.

If a man is happy in America, it is considered he is doing something wrong.

No other offense has ever been visited with such severe penalties as seeking to help the oppressed.

I don't believe in God because I don't believe in Mother Goose.

The law does not pretend to punish everything that is dishonest. That would seriously interfere with business.

Clarence Darrow

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

To Maria:

Past three o'clock, before dawn,
I woke and looked over for you,
Needing you,
And I was comforted
To see you there, near,
Your legs wrestling with a pillow,
Your fingers stretched out
To me.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

One of the mysteries of my life has been my neglect of you in correspondence. You remain one of the persons most beloved in my life. You may justifiably feel skeptical about what I say now, you really would be astonished at the number of times and places I've thought of you with affection--even when I am sad about something because I know that you would understand the sadness even if no one else on earth did.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

"He lay there in the dark thinking of all the things he did not know about his father and he realized that the father he knew was all the father he would ever know.

Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


Just for the record.

Volume of a sphere: 4.19 x radius cubed.

Why is the night sky not filled to the brim with stars? Because there has not been enough time for the light from all stars to reach us. In the event that enough time would have passed the night sky would be brilliant with the light of myriad stars.

The number of stars increases with distance cubed -- but star brightness fades with distance squared.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


Zeal always gets the better of prudence.


(bite your tongue)

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

"The steamships bound for New York left from Hamburg. The old three-masted, bark-rigged sail ships still left from Bremen. The steamships made the crossing in two weeks, the sail ships in six. But the sail ships were cheaper. They arrived in Bremen with their between decks loaded with cargo. After the cargo was discharged, crude accommodations were readied for poor travelers seeking outward passage. When the between deck held living cargo it was called "steerage class." The worth of incoming cargo was realized on arrival and thus was cared for accordingly. The value of the steerage passengers ended with their purchase of a ticket."

Nick Tosches "King of the Jews."

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

"Oh yeah?, " said the big man, try this. He reached his huge fist up to the highest shelf and brought down Habana Caliente Caliente! It was a tiny bottle shaped in the image of Fidel Castro. My sinuses began to open and water... My eyes teared before the bottle cap was unscrewed.

mek

We made brothers into others and others into brothers.

mek

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


I was at physical therapy for my shoulder late this afternoon. After some discussion the therapists had agreed to play The White Stripes on the sound system,and my fellow patients were pulling ropes, lifting medical weights, having ice applied, you know, the usual stuff. My therapist, Sara, a nifty 25 year old woman was gently massaging my shoulder and was deep into her work.

Suddenly someone opened the door and shouted: "Michael Jackson Not Guilty on All Counts! "

Without missing a beat Sara said, "Put on 'Beat It'."

mek

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


A skull is more interesting than a naked woman.

______________________________________


One must live -- until the plague takes him.

.............................................................................Ingmar Bergman.....

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com dialog from Ingmar Bergman,

(the Knight notices the Priest behind the confessional's bars)

(Knight)
I want to confess as best I can.
But my heart is a void.
The void is a mirror.
I see my face...
I feel loathing and horror.

My indifference to men has shut me out.
I live now in a world of ghosts...
A prisoner in my dreams and illusions.

(Priest)
Yet you want to die.

(Knight)
Yes, I do.

(Priest)
What are you waiting for?

(Knight)
Knowledge.

(Priest)
You want a guarantee.

(Knight)
Call it what you will.
Is it so hard to conceive God with one's senses?

Why must He hide in a mist of vague promises and invisible miracles?
How are we to to believe the believers
When we don't believe ourselves?
What will become of us who want to believe but cannot?
And what will become of those who neither will nor can believe?
Why cannot I kill God within me?
Why does He go on living in a painful, humiliating way?
I want to tear Him out of my heart.
Be He remains a mocking reality
Which I cannot get rid of.
Do you hear me?

(Priest)
Perhaps there is no one there.

(Knight)
Then life is a senseless terror.
No man can live with Death
And know that everything is nothing.

Most people think neither of Death nor nothingness
Until the day they stand on the edge of life and see the darkness.

(Priest, with longing)
Ah....the day.

(Knight)
I see.
We must make an idol of our fear
And call it "God."

(Priest)
You are uneasy.

(Knight)
Death visited me this morning.
We are playing chess.
This respite enables me to perform a vital errand.

(Priest)
What errand?

(Knight)
My whole life has been a meaningless search.
I say that without bitterness nor self-reproach.
I know it is the same for all
But I want to use my respite for one significant action.

(Priest)
So you play chess with death?

(Knight)
He is a skillful tactician but I have not yet lost one piece.

(Priest)
How can you outwit Death?

(Knight)
By a combination of Bishop and Knight.

(The Knight looks up at the Priest and realizes that it is Death not the Priest. )

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

In his Press Conference yesterday, did President Bush say:

"Detainees have been trained to disassemble. Disassemble is a word than means not to tell the truth."

That's what I heard--but then my ears may may be biased.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

We are in the middle of a thunderstorm on the first day of the hurricane season. Last year's four big ones put everyone on edge and all kinds of preparations are being made that were never made before.

In Florida when it rains people act like people do in New York when there is an eight inch snowstorm. Dinner dates are cancelled, theater tickets are given to the maids and doormen, and every one stays inside.

Florida has rescinded (for a week) the sales tax on anything related to hurricanes, so this is a good time to buy plywood, batteries, and plastic sheeting. I must look at the list to see what else is on the tax free list. The state is advertising tax free sales so much that if I were a retailer I would leave everything at full price, which I am sure most retailers are doing.

Maria and I have half of the North Atlantic tuna catch cached in a closet here along with enough water to supply the most of the elephants at Ringling Brothers, Barnum and Bailey.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


Star Wars

Bruce Lee with flashlights.

If you understand this picture Email me for three gold stars.  

Time for you to confess.

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com


.S. Eliot (1888–1965). Prufrock and Other Observations. 1917.

4. Rhapsody on a Windy Night


TWELVE o’clock.

Along the reaches of the street

Held in a lunar synthesis,

Whispering lunar incantations

Dissolve the floors of memory
5
And all its clear relations

Its divisions and precisions,

Every street lamp that I pass

Beats like a fatalistic drum,

And through the spaces of the dark
10
Midnight shakes the memory

As a madman shakes a dead geranium.


Half-past one,

The street-lamp sputtered,

The street-lamp muttered,
15
The street-lamp said, “Regard that woman

Who hesitates toward you in the light of the door

Which opens on her like a grin.

You see the border of her dress

Is torn and stained with sand,
20
And you see the corner of her eye

Twists like a crooked pin.”


The memory throws up high and dry

A crowd of twisted things;

A twisted branch upon the beach
25
Eaten smooth, and polished

As if the world gave up

The secret of its skeleton,

Stiff and white.

A broken spring in a factory yard,
30
Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left

Hard and curled and ready to snap.


Half-past two,

The street-lamp said,

“Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
35
Slips out its tongue

And devours a morsel of rancid butter.”

So the hand of the child, automatic,

Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.

I could see nothing behind that child’s eye.
40
I have seen eyes in the street

Trying to peer through lighted shutters,

And a crab one afternoon in a pool,

An old crab with barnacles on his back,

Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
45

Half-past three,

The lamp sputtered,

The lamp muttered in the dark.

The lamp hummed:

“Regard the moon,
50
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,

She winks a feeble eye,

She smiles into corners.

She smooths the hair of the grass.

The moon has lost her memory.
55
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,

Her hand twists a paper rose,

That smells of dust and eau de Cologne,

She is alone

With all the old nocturnal smells
60
That cross and cross across her brain.”

The reminiscence comes

Of sunless dry geraniums

And dust in crevices,

Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
65
And female smells in shuttered rooms,

And cigarettes in corridors

And cocktail smells in bars.


The lamp said,

“Four o’clock,
70
Here is the number on the door.

Memory!

You have the key,

The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair.

Mount.
75
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,

Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.”


The last twist of the knife.