Blog number 302 **** 21 May 2009
On page 2, the author refers to "supper." In books, food is often used as a symbol. Try to think of a time when food, or a particular meal, has been important to you. Then keep it to yourself.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
SOMETIMES I'M RIGHT
Blog number 301 **** 20 May 2009
A friend of mine read the following, and knowing that I have often expressed my suspicion that oil didn't come from dead dinosaurs, sent it to me.
"In Black Gold Stranglehold, Jerome Corsi and Craig Smith expose the fraudulent science that has made America so vulnerable: the belief that oil is a fossil fuel and that it is a finite resource. This book reveals the conclusions reached by Dr. Thomas Gold, a professor at Cornell University, in his seminal book The Deep Hot Biosphere: The Myth ofFossil Fuels (Copernicus Books, 1998) and accepted by many in the scientific community that oil is not a product of fossils and prehistoric forests but rather the bio-product of a continuing biochemical reaction below the earth’s surface that is brought to attainable depths by the centrifugal forces of the earth’s rotation."
Made me feel vindicated, good Buddy. I don't get that feeling very often.
A friend of mine read the following, and knowing that I have often expressed my suspicion that oil didn't come from dead dinosaurs, sent it to me.
"In Black Gold Stranglehold, Jerome Corsi and Craig Smith expose the fraudulent science that has made America so vulnerable: the belief that oil is a fossil fuel and that it is a finite resource. This book reveals the conclusions reached by Dr. Thomas Gold, a professor at Cornell University, in his seminal book The Deep Hot Biosphere: The Myth ofFossil Fuels (Copernicus Books, 1998) and accepted by many in the scientific community that oil is not a product of fossils and prehistoric forests but rather the bio-product of a continuing biochemical reaction below the earth’s surface that is brought to attainable depths by the centrifugal forces of the earth’s rotation."
Made me feel vindicated, good Buddy. I don't get that feeling very often.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
AM I NOT HUMAN? DO I NOT BLEED?
Blog number 300 **** 14 May 2009
So we go to Phoenix, eat our breakfast at Mimi's, drive to Barnes and Nobles down the street, park our car in the shade a few steps down from the entrance, get out and walk across the parking aisle in order to reach the sidewalk. Halfway across the aisle, I see something in the road, so I peer at it, can't quite figure out what it is, reach down to pick it up and this car, coming down the same aisle, honks at me! Not a loud HOONNNK! But just a little "beep beep." Like "Get out of the way." Like you would do to a cow in the road.
In all my seventy-nine years on this planet earth, nobody has ever before honked at me while I was a pedestrian.
I feel like I have finally arrived.
So we go to Phoenix, eat our breakfast at Mimi's, drive to Barnes and Nobles down the street, park our car in the shade a few steps down from the entrance, get out and walk across the parking aisle in order to reach the sidewalk. Halfway across the aisle, I see something in the road, so I peer at it, can't quite figure out what it is, reach down to pick it up and this car, coming down the same aisle, honks at me! Not a loud HOONNNK! But just a little "beep beep." Like "Get out of the way." Like you would do to a cow in the road.
In all my seventy-nine years on this planet earth, nobody has ever before honked at me while I was a pedestrian.
I feel like I have finally arrived.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
YOU WRITE 'EM WE READ 'EM
Blog number 299 **** 06 May 2009
Sitting in an easy chair in the mall, waiting for my lovely one to finish shopping, I was reading "The Kindly Ones". I think I was lead to the book by an article in "The New Yorker, but I'm not sure. Anyway, a man walking by stopped and asked me if it was a good book. I replied that it was starting to get good, that I had a little trouble with it in the beginning. In fact, I had stopped reading it and was thinking of taking it back to the library, but I got to thinking that the author, since it is a big book, must have had something to say, so I decided to try again. I'm glad I did.
The man who had asked me about the book stated that he had heard about the book on National Public Radio, and the personality that mentioned it said the first hundred pages was hard to get through, but after that it was a wonderful read.
The story is about a Nazi war criminal and how he got to be one. Right in the beginning he philosophies that anyone could have wound up in his place under similar circumstances, which mirrors pretty well my own take on the average human. People are sheep, after all. Pretty much.
He also philosophizes that the animal killing another animal for food does not enjoy the activity as much as the prey abhors it. That the pain one suffers in life does not balance with the joys one experiences.
While killing Jews early in the invasion of Russia, he states, after graphically revealing what is contained in such an endeavor, that although the killers were merely performing a dirty job, the killees were losing everything. Not an even balance.
From the mall, mine wife and I went to Barnes and Nobles. While there I overheard a girl ask a clerk if they had, "The Gift of Fear." I asked her if someone had recommended it to her, she said they did. I said, "Good book."
It's one of those books that should be required reading in High School. It talks about how to use the emotion of fear to guide you away from danger. I am one who insists one should listen to that "still small voice" always, anyhow.
Sitting in an easy chair in the mall, waiting for my lovely one to finish shopping, I was reading "The Kindly Ones". I think I was lead to the book by an article in "The New Yorker, but I'm not sure. Anyway, a man walking by stopped and asked me if it was a good book. I replied that it was starting to get good, that I had a little trouble with it in the beginning. In fact, I had stopped reading it and was thinking of taking it back to the library, but I got to thinking that the author, since it is a big book, must have had something to say, so I decided to try again. I'm glad I did.
The man who had asked me about the book stated that he had heard about the book on National Public Radio, and the personality that mentioned it said the first hundred pages was hard to get through, but after that it was a wonderful read.
The story is about a Nazi war criminal and how he got to be one. Right in the beginning he philosophies that anyone could have wound up in his place under similar circumstances, which mirrors pretty well my own take on the average human. People are sheep, after all. Pretty much.
He also philosophizes that the animal killing another animal for food does not enjoy the activity as much as the prey abhors it. That the pain one suffers in life does not balance with the joys one experiences.
While killing Jews early in the invasion of Russia, he states, after graphically revealing what is contained in such an endeavor, that although the killers were merely performing a dirty job, the killees were losing everything. Not an even balance.
From the mall, mine wife and I went to Barnes and Nobles. While there I overheard a girl ask a clerk if they had, "The Gift of Fear." I asked her if someone had recommended it to her, she said they did. I said, "Good book."
It's one of those books that should be required reading in High School. It talks about how to use the emotion of fear to guide you away from danger. I am one who insists one should listen to that "still small voice" always, anyhow.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
THEY DON'T WRITE 'EM LIKE THAT ANYMORE
Blog number 298 **** 05 May 2009
Went to Mimi's in Phoenix this morning.
Mimi's plays 40's music. Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, Doris Day, et al.
I don't know why.
This morning we happened to hear the lyrics to a couple of songs I don't remember hearing before.
One went,
"Hug me squeeze me 'til I'm red
'til my eyes bug out my head."
The other one, and my favorite;
"To my mind she's my kind of girl
Pretty little face knocks me off my feet
Pretty little feet sweet enough to eat."
Hah!
Went to Mimi's in Phoenix this morning.
Mimi's plays 40's music. Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, Doris Day, et al.
I don't know why.
This morning we happened to hear the lyrics to a couple of songs I don't remember hearing before.
One went,
"Hug me squeeze me 'til I'm red
'til my eyes bug out my head."
The other one, and my favorite;
"To my mind she's my kind of girl
Pretty little face knocks me off my feet
Pretty little feet sweet enough to eat."
Hah!
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