BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
The Old Poodle A wealthy old lady decides to go on a photo safari in Africa, taking her faithful aged poodle named Cuddles, along for the company. One day the poodle starts chasing butterflies and before long, Cuddles discovers that she's lost.
Wandering about, she notices a leopard heading rapidly in her direction with the intention of having lunch. The old poodle thinks, "Oh, oh! I'm in deep shit now!" Noticing some bones on the ground close by, she immediately settles down to chew on the bones with her back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old poodle exclaims loudly, "Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder if there are any more around here?"
Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. "Whew!", says the leopard, "That was close! That old poodle nearly had me!"
Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So off he goes, but the old poodle sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that somthing must be up. The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.
The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, "Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!" Now, the old poodle sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, "What am I going to do now?", but instead of running, the dog sits down with her back to her attackers, pretending she hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old poodle says:
"Where's that damn monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!"
Moral of this story .
Age and treachery will always overcome youth and skill!
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Thursday, August 11, 2005
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
You will understand then why I don't like the crowd. It frightens me. I am always looking for the individual within it, the glance, someone with whom one exchanges a little of one's soul.
I like people for their weaknesses and their faults. I get on well with ordinary people. We talk. We start with the weather and little by little we get to the important things. When I photograph them it is not as though I am examining them with a magnifying glass, like a cold and scientific observer. It's brotherly. And it's better, isn't it, to shed some light on those people who are never in the limelight?
You've got to struggle against the pollution of intelligence in order to become an animal with very sharp instincts--a sort of intuitive medium--so that the photographer becomes a magical act and slowly more suggestive images begin to appear behind the visible image, for which the photographer cannot be responsible.
Brassi, French-Hungarian Photographer
You will understand then why I don't like the crowd. It frightens me. I am always looking for the individual within it, the glance, someone with whom one exchanges a little of one's soul.
I like people for their weaknesses and their faults. I get on well with ordinary people. We talk. We start with the weather and little by little we get to the important things. When I photograph them it is not as though I am examining them with a magnifying glass, like a cold and scientific observer. It's brotherly. And it's better, isn't it, to shed some light on those people who are never in the limelight?
You've got to struggle against the pollution of intelligence in order to become an animal with very sharp instincts--a sort of intuitive medium--so that the photographer becomes a magical act and slowly more suggestive images begin to appear behind the visible image, for which the photographer cannot be responsible.
Brassi, French-Hungarian Photographer
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
It doesn't matter where I look there's always something going on. All I need to do is wait, and look for long enough until the curtain begins to go up. Each time the same pompous formula trots through my head. Paris is a theater where you buy your sea by wasting time. And I'm still waiting.
R. Doisneau, Parisian Photographer
It doesn't matter where I look there's always something going on. All I need to do is wait, and look for long enough until the curtain begins to go up. Each time the same pompous formula trots through my head. Paris is a theater where you buy your sea by wasting time. And I'm still waiting.
R. Doisneau, Parisian Photographer
Saturday, July 30, 2005
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
Duty
Last night I rented Winter Light, the third of a Bergman Trilogy on God, Religion, Faith and the lack thereof within ourselves.
It's only 80 minutes and describes a disillusioned parson who has lost belief but who goes on preaching even after a failure in counseling that leads to the death of one of his parishioners. His lover also remains on duty even though he (the Parson) has told her to get lost.
Apart from the content of Bergman's early films which never leave me unfulfilled, the photography itself compels me always to re-watch each movie with a remote in my hand so that I can stop the action and look at what becomes an amazing still photograph.
mek
Duty
Last night I rented Winter Light, the third of a Bergman Trilogy on God, Religion, Faith and the lack thereof within ourselves.
It's only 80 minutes and describes a disillusioned parson who has lost belief but who goes on preaching even after a failure in counseling that leads to the death of one of his parishioners. His lover also remains on duty even though he (the Parson) has told her to get lost.
Apart from the content of Bergman's early films which never leave me unfulfilled, the photography itself compels me always to re-watch each movie with a remote in my hand so that I can stop the action and look at what becomes an amazing still photograph.
mek
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
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
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
In many states a woman may not drink alcohol or smoke while pregnant, but she may get an abortion.
mek
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
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.
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
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
Monday, July 18, 2005
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, July 16, 2005
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
"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
Monday, July 11, 2005
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.
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.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
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."
"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."
Friday, June 17, 2005
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
"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
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
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
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
Thursday, June 02, 2005
BusterStronghart@Gmail.com
A skull is more interesting than a naked woman.
______________________________________
One must live -- until the plague takes him.
.............................................................................Ingmar Bergman.....
A skull is more interesting than a naked woman.
______________________________________
One must live -- until the plague takes him.
.............................................................................Ingmar Bergman.....
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
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. )
(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. )
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