tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52178742012-01-28T14:24:18.848-06:00Chevaux de Bataille and Random Quotidian ThoughtsJonahnoreply@blogger.comBlogger21641100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-78867116826033585122012-01-28T14:23:00.001-06:002012-01-28T14:24:18.860-06:00

Morning shines through buds — such hungry memories — bird shadow on window slats

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-32154356735524480592012-01-27T06:06:00.001-06:002012-01-27T06:06:34.138-06:00

Creator God,Cultivate gratefulness in us.Guide usas we cultivate the garden of our souls.Guide our vision of beauty and be our final home.This we ask in your Holy Name.Amen.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-3121921590968935352012-01-21T11:10:00.001-06:002012-01-21T11:11:12.446-06:00

To be capable of embarrassment is the beginning of moral consciousness. Honor grows from qualms. — John Leonard, critic (1939-2008)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-76360617414224149482012-01-21T11:08:00.001-06:002012-01-21T11:08:20.191-06:00

God, you are our Master Gardner, in everything and contained by nothing. You are always available to us, our first fragrance and our last: We give thanks for our senses; may we be mindful of our responsibility to remain open to your Holy Spirit. Amen.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-30771794512836018312012-01-16T07:06:00.000-06:002012-01-16T07:06:30.430-06:00

There is no exception to the rule that every rule has an exception. — James Thurber, writer and cartoonist (1894-1961)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-78499188178633795092012-01-09T06:07:00.001-06:002012-01-09T06:07:37.884-06:00

Morning so crisp I hear a distant train and dream of grandfather

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-29132630899693829652012-01-01T07:23:00.000-06:002012-01-01T07:23:05.268-06:00

Books have the same enemies as people: fire, humidity, animals, weather, and their own content. — Paul Valery (1871 - 1945)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-58780515669422918912011-12-08T06:00:00.001-06:002011-12-08T06:00:48.967-06:00

Only those things are beautiful which are inspired by madness and written by reason. — Andre Gide, author, Nobel laureate (1869-1951)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-64674550070166102092011-12-05T16:05:00.000-06:002011-12-05T16:06:58.807-06:00

It is my belief that the writer, the free-lance author, should be and must be a critic of the society in which he lives. It is easy enough, and always profitable, to rail away at national enemies beyond the sea, at foreign powers beyond our borders who question the prevailing order. But the moral duty of the free writer is to begin his work at home; to be a critic of his own community, his own

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-16968472527120541522011-12-01T08:51:00.001-06:002011-12-01T09:07:27.743-06:00

Went to hear Miss Brown To You perform at Wings of Desire a combo salon, art gallery, and vintage furniture shop on Hudson, just south of NW 23rd. It's run by Patricia Lee Russell. Mireille Damicone, one of the artists was also there. Mireille creates large floral canvases, jewelry, and icons. So, Patti and I were sitting in two salon chairs by the sink, and Mireille was sitting on a bench

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-64971296114472744482011-10-06T08:39:00.001-05:002011-10-06T08:40:14.389-05:00

If they give you ruled paper, write the other way. — Juan Ramon Jimenez, poet, Nobel Prize in literature (1881-1958)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-63949272379066639702011-09-05T12:08:00.000-05:002011-09-05T12:08:15.997-05:00

I am from red dirt & hard clay I come from his whiskey breath & her menthol teat I am from Nat King Cole & Johnny Mathis I come from fire Her backdraft roar his dry ice burn I am from the belt & the slap I am the twisted lip, twisted at birth I come from playground taunts I was formed by the pack's wisdom I come from Dickens & Holden Caufield from Miller & Kerouac I am from suburban

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-84913935283528061872011-08-30T15:55:00.000-05:002011-08-30T15:56:44.508-05:00

Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of much of life. So aim above morality. Be not simply good; be good for something. — Henry David Thoreau, naturalist and author (1817-1862)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-52838703381361075992011-08-26T08:39:00.001-05:002011-08-26T08:39:55.441-05:00

All know that the drop merges into the ocean but few know that the ocean merges into the drop. — Kabir, reformer, poet (late 15th century)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-23537762235272460932011-08-12T10:54:00.002-05:002011-08-12T10:59:28.770-05:00

I've finally updated the "Sites to See" section in the left-hand column. The blogroll service I had subscribed to folded some time last year, and I lost all the links that used to be over there. It seems to me that most of the folk I used to follow via their blogs have now migrated to Facebook. In fact, my own posting has dropped off dramatically, partially due to my energies being focused on

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-47958101187162539972011-08-11T15:44:00.002-05:002011-08-11T16:56:54.372-05:00

One of my electives in high school was Drama. I had taken Speech in junior high, and we staged a few dramas, which was my favorite part of the class.Most people called our drama teacher Mrs. Lady. As I recall, she had earned that nickname when she had taught in a predomninantly African-American school in Arkansas. Padre told me that “Lady” was a title of respect - as in “Lady Day” (Billy Holiday)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-5358235560549044842011-08-10T15:59:00.006-05:002011-08-10T17:43:48.500-05:00

One of the great tragedies of mankind is that morality has been hijacked by religion. — Arthur C. Clarke, science fiction writer (1917-2008) This quote was commended to me by Brother Dave. The quote begs the question of what we mean by "morality". I suppose "morality" to be a set of commonly accepts principles a society agrees to live by. The best known is the Golden Rule “Do unto others as

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-75794827828658810222011-07-27T16:05:00.002-05:002011-07-27T16:09:52.184-05:00

Norway's prime minister [Stoltenberg] struck a defiant tone Wednesday, saying the response to twin attacks that have rocked his country will be "more democracy."... Stoltenberg said that extremist views are legitimate in a democracy but implementing them violently is not.Or, to quote the Sage of Baltimore (H.L. Mencken): "The cure for the evils of democracy is more democracy."HT Brother DaveBy

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-20833206461632253312011-06-16T17:19:00.001-05:002011-06-16T17:22:08.103-05:00

We grow tyrannical fighting tyranny. The most alarming spectacle today is not the spectacle of the atomic bomb in an unfederated world, it is the spectacle of the Americans beginning to accept the device of loyalty oaths and witchhunts, beginning to call anybody they don't like a Communist. - E.B. White, writer (1899-1985) This would apply today to the label "liberal". When, exactly, did "

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-13485894993949772262011-03-17T16:03:00.001-05:002011-03-17T16:05:33.370-05:00

People think of Zen as mystical, inscrutable. Pretty strange. But the basic idea behind Zen is simple: We experience the world through a filter of expectations and preconceptions built up over the course of our lives. As a result, we fail to see the world as it really is. With the help of a program of morality, meditation, and mindfulness, we can overcome this veil of delusion and see

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-40241811321311993262011-01-29T08:52:00.002-06:002011-01-29T09:11:14.220-06:00

25.XI.81Vera -I hear there's hard times coming. There's a bad moon on the rise. It's a hard rain that's going to fall. And it all boils down to weird scenes inside the gold mind.Voici les temps des AssasinsWith those words, the aspect of the complex is entirely altered. The walls have changed colors. The guard dogs in the pillars have been calmed. The eerie voices which once permeated our

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-5462189744397844582011-01-22T06:42:00.002-06:002011-01-29T08:52:17.117-06:00

Some of Dharma is true.Well, Dharma is true, but he's in disguise.Dharma wears a jester disguise.Dharma is your kid brotherwho wants to move into your spare roomjust until he gets back on his feet.Some of Dharma is faithful.Well, Dharma is faithful, but she's flirtatious.Dharma is your ex-wifewho you never did understand.She's more than fresh coffee and rumbled sheets.Her hands define wheat waves

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-9291993059529748982011-01-01T08:23:00.000-06:002011-01-01T08:24:37.025-06:00

To know the road ahead, ask those coming back.— Chinese Proverb

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-66550360932992543192010-12-08T06:25:00.000-06:002010-12-08T06:26:08.900-06:00

In a free country there is much clamor, with little suffering: in a despotic state there is little complaint but much suffering. — Lazare Hippolyte Carnot, statesman (1801-1888)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-48758952673845965492010-11-17T06:45:00.001-06:002010-11-18T06:37:13.621-06:00

I have never started a poem yet whose end I knew. Writing a poem is discovering.— Robert Frost, poet (1874-1963)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-87814886782295086092010-10-06T06:29:00.000-05:002010-10-06T06:30:47.640-05:00

One will rarely err if extreme actions be ascribed to vanity, ordinary actions to habit, and mean actions to fear. — Friedrich Nietzsche, philosopher (1844-1900)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-69458967266152729962010-08-20T20:34:00.000-05:002010-08-20T20:35:01.024-05:00

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-68820482689188465332010-08-01T08:04:00.003-05:002010-08-01T08:11:16.564-05:00

I will go where the darkness dwellsIn highest heaven or blackest hell.When I open the cupWhen I close the bookWhen I drink it upWhen I steal a lookI go to the darkness.You studied love at the Thunderbird RanchWhat you do with the moonlightMakes the night bird blanchBut you're holding your ownYou've learned all the movesYou're already openWith nothing to proveTo the darkness.They call it the

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-73085304943706989482010-07-22T16:14:00.001-05:002010-07-22T16:15:42.370-05:00

She was standing by the walltexting on her BlackberryI sipped her inthen recovered my breath

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-71426794518065547232010-06-30T05:46:00.001-05:002010-06-30T05:46:34.137-05:00

I don't hate my enemies. After all, I made 'em. - Red Skelton, comedian (1913-1997)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-40988845996453529962010-06-10T16:03:00.001-05:002010-06-10T16:03:49.065-05:00

My former father in-law once told me that, based on his experience, one stumbles into what one is meant to do. This statement was based on his life-time career as an insurance adjustor. I think I may have stumbled into what I'm meant to do. And all it took was an ounce of initiative.I am currently working with medical coding and billing. I have been doing this essentially since 2008. I actually

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-64326273928218325192010-06-06T08:08:00.000-05:002010-06-06T08:09:06.118-05:00

The holy spirit appeared to mein the form of a cardinalperched on the windowsillabove my sinkHis brilliant Pentecost redfilled my restless headwith sacred morning memoriesof lying next to youAnd the cardinalplucked my heartfrom its sleevebefore he rose to leaveWill he carry it overthe hill plainsto your kitchen window?He won't need a map to find youYou draw the song linesthe multicolored

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-34043530147552994612010-05-26T06:25:00.000-05:002010-05-26T06:27:06.116-05:00

Nature is ever at work building and pulling down, creating and destroying, keeping everything whirling and flowing, allowing no rest but in rhythmical motion, chasing everything in endless song out of one beautiful form into another. — John Muir, Naturalist and explorer (1838-1914)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-83141382644452292472010-05-14T06:09:00.001-05:002010-05-14T06:12:11.066-05:00

The death of dogma is the birth of morality. — Immanuel Kant, philosopher (1724-1804)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-45711947430825220572010-04-08T16:13:00.001-05:002010-04-09T06:30:08.460-05:00

There are two dominant types of crosses, which reflect two Christian interpretations of the meaning of Jesus' death & resurrection. One cross, normally called a crucifix, has a figure of Jesus on it. The other cross has no figure of Jesus on it. With some exceptions, most people who wear a crucifix endorse a scapegoat theology, that Jesus' sacrifice was demanded by God to recompense for the sins

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-78161546278239865462010-03-26T07:30:00.001-05:002010-03-26T07:30:55.268-05:00

An age is called Dark not because the light fails to shine, but because people refuse to see it. — James Albert Michener, novelist (1907-1997)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-18977831932054807242010-03-25T16:02:00.001-05:002010-03-25T16:04:41.077-05:00

Dave Collins March 23rd I awoke to a deluge of reports and op-ed pieces proclaiming the “historic” victory for the forces of democracy and the well being of the 90% of men, women, and children in the United States that own less than 30% of its wealth. The passage by a vote of 219 to 212 of this glorious reform legislation has been seized on and is being celebrated by a great many of

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-89647937939282371072010-03-14T14:32:00.005-05:002010-06-06T08:16:31.858-05:00

I was visiting with Larry about two weeks ago. Larry had been talking about his experience serving on the board of a synagogue. I repeated my standard bon mot - that the quickest way to get a newcomer to leave a church is to put that person on the church board. Larry was a bit surprised by that comment, and asked why.I replied that, in the Christian tradition, many naively believe people will

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-85018726765047880332010-03-11T05:50:00.002-06:002010-03-14T16:15:58.099-05:00

A living thought is like a seed. In the process of thinking, an answer without a question is devoid of life.— Abraham Joshua Heschel

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-11849618968866065762010-03-08T16:23:00.007-06:002010-03-09T06:42:29.774-06:00

There is a folk axiom to the effect that it takes three positives to outweigh one negative. For several years, I allowed three negative impressions to color my opinion of the Cursillo movement. Now, I have attended a Cursillo weekend. I've waited to write about it because the whole weekend could be colored by one large negative: a severe allergic reaction.It is probable that I encountered the

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-44345722029472253352010-03-05T06:26:00.001-06:002010-03-06T05:29:49.221-06:00

In the presence of eternity, the mountains are as transient as the clouds. — Robert Green Ingersoll, lawyer and orator (1833-1899)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-55780469597804462342010-03-03T06:38:00.003-06:002010-03-03T06:46:05.654-06:00

If I must have a label, I'd rather it be 'a story'.— author Heidi Durrow, born of an African American father and a white Danish mother responding to whether she calls herself biracial, mixed race, black or white

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-45057081561867321312010-02-24T05:59:00.003-06:002010-02-24T06:03:42.643-06:00

For money you can have everything it is said. No, that is not true. You can buy food, but not appetite; medicine, but not health; soft beds, but not sleep; knowledge but not intelligence; glitter, but not comfort; fun, but not pleasure; acquaintances, but not friendship; servants, but not faithfulness; grey hair, but not honor; quiet days, but not peace. The shell of all things you can get for

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-84435280890568042432010-01-10T08:09:00.003-06:002010-01-10T08:15:43.735-06:00

I discovered this Patsy Cline classic through Rosanne Cash's latest release, The List. I chose not to change the pronoun, but have made a minor alteration in the last verse.Just to brag for a moment, this video represents the third time I've sung the song. Additionally, I'm transposing in my head as I read the lead sheet (in C) off the computer; I'm playing in A.I've been playing with the lyrics

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82519544532312062402009-12-31T07:56:00.002-06:002009-12-31T08:14:10.129-06:00

It just struck me that 2009 is not the end of a decade, as some would have it. For some reason, we are more entranced by the chronological odometer rolling over from nine to zero than from zero to one. But the reality is we don't really start counting until the year has been experienced.Unlike the Koreans, and some other Asian cultures, we do not say a child is one year old when she is born.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-31792893422843203182009-12-04T05:27:00.000-06:002009-12-04T05:28:11.647-06:00

Men become civilized, not in proportion to their willingness to believe, but in proportion to their readiness to doubt. - H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic (1880-1956)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-41127759697719324312009-11-07T06:31:00.002-06:002009-11-07T07:04:11.928-06:00

Pleased to report I have a fully functioning fur-bearing alarm clock. Unfortunately, she does not recognize the difference between Friday and Saturday.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-71608074711750949592009-10-06T18:06:00.001-05:002009-10-06T18:12:20.014-05:00

Satan wears satinwhile he stands athis subOlympian heightswatching twilight melt into morningHe's been walkingup and down suburban asphaltHe's been drinkingStarbucks espressoHe's a Walmartsecret shopperHe's been walkingup the valleysdown the mountainspast the prayer flagsof russett and goldHe's been goingto and fro in the earthbyways and causewaysboardwalks and boulevardsthe inland coast and the

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-47330850270373559822009-09-03T07:39:00.001-05:002009-09-03T07:41:30.838-05:00

A documentary on Dalton Trumbo was on PBS last night. 90 minutes, and fantastic. Man, he could write! And apparently couldn't stop writing, no matter what. I hope you got a chance to see it; if not, definitely put it on your Netflix cue. I had put it on mine when I first heard the film was coming out; I plan to see it a 2nd time. If there's a book of selected letters by Trumbo, I want it.The

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82837392041899955352009-08-14T06:43:00.006-05:002009-08-15T06:16:57.859-05:00

O guitar, I sold you,first guitar I ever had.I sold your string set too high,higher than the valleys in my left fingertips.I sold the missing bridge knob,and the broken strap peg.I sold the mahogany.I sold your faint sunburst.You were the first guitar I ever had, purchased by my dadin the famous dreams of my youthwhen my heart was an alternating basswhen I was an apostrophecurled around your

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-2574797143866549492009-08-05T06:14:00.004-05:002009-08-05T11:52:11.960-05:00

Psalm 119:77I am very willful. I expect things to go my way, and pout when they don't. I suppose myself to be "smarter than the average bear", and expect to learn new things easily. If I don't pick it up in one sitting, I'm likely to drop it rather than persevere.For example, I play the guitar, and would like to expand the picking patterns I use. Problem is, learning new patterns requires

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-84868501515301012602009-07-15T06:15:00.001-05:002009-07-15T06:18:21.956-05:00

This poem was originally posted in this very space; now you can hear a performance with appropriately bluesy guitar. You may read the text at my poetry site.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-62605782403560003472009-07-06T16:19:00.001-05:002009-07-06T16:20:15.305-05:00

Grant that the lip-sticked pig is gone for good. Nice of her to have SNL write her resignation speech, though.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-614278516255776432009-06-24T06:27:00.003-05:002009-06-24T06:28:58.684-05:00

Just a song before I go, something to cheer you in case the heat has got you down. NOLA immigre Theresa Andersson (originally from Sweeden) has the most talented feet in music.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-56016145080052103332009-06-20T07:34:00.001-05:002009-06-20T07:36:08.430-05:00

Petra Haden & the Sell Outs perform the classic Pete Townsend tune. Impressive acapella work.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-64961863548024025632009-06-14T07:44:00.003-05:002009-06-14T07:48:26.285-05:00

This video is for Natalie, who commented that she wished she could hear the poem. The text of the poem is available at my postcard site.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-14429998132031015292009-06-11T06:30:00.002-05:002009-06-11T06:32:42.701-05:00

There's a couple of stumbles here - who knew I'd be so unsure in front of a camera? - but I think the point of the medley comes across. Shot with a Flip Ultra.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-73302374650770096182009-04-22T06:24:00.005-05:002009-04-22T06:40:51.665-05:00

You live in my heartbut nowyou're a victim of crow time —struck dumb by green patchesfenced in by brown & gray —and by the mystery of ashen urns.Sky pure black, sparked by dove starsand the moon is a sliver balancinga firm ball of lighton its thin point — &I'm reminded of your simple black hair,sparks hidden in its strands.You live in my eyes,but stillyou're a hostage to crow time —lost amid men

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-40516568837532775772009-04-16T06:40:00.000-05:002009-04-16T06:41:13.822-05:00

Truth, in matters of religion, is simply the opinion that has survived. – Oscar Wilde, writer (1854-1900)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-61584723412334252312009-04-14T18:55:00.000-05:002009-04-14T18:56:33.866-05:00

Mandolin blues. What a concept.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-68647059466428215562009-03-23T06:36:00.000-05:002009-03-23T06:37:05.389-05:00

It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society. — J. Krishnamurti, author, speaker, and philosopher (1895-1986)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-81717396774877178752009-03-22T08:05:00.000-05:002009-03-22T08:06:45.777-05:00

Tip o' the tam shander to Brother Dave.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-89323060799558822942009-03-21T08:46:00.002-05:002009-03-21T08:47:04.340-05:00

Once filled with spring dreams, today they are sighing, bending their heads to the west.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-35092292781967506462009-03-18T06:24:00.001-05:002009-03-18T06:24:56.366-05:00

What monstrosities would walk the streets were some people's faces as unfinished as their minds. – Eric Hoffer, philosopher and author (1902-1983)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-57290139723766115242009-03-17T06:30:00.003-05:002009-03-17T06:36:01.343-05:00

I really like the sound of this track, what I presume to be the second "single" from the album of the same name. I've listened to the 30 sec snippets available on iTunes, and the album as a whole sounds interesting. It's a "concept" album, similar to their previous album, The Crane Wife. The difference being that album had two stories told over a series of tracks, with 2-3 tracks being outside

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-91189543203053699622009-03-14T11:18:00.002-05:002009-03-14T11:19:50.246-05:00

Herewith, the traditional wooden cross set up on Shrove Tuesday, to stand in the courtyard through Lent.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-86230608960545209812009-03-07T17:19:00.001-06:002009-03-07T17:20:35.464-06:00

Andrew Lloyd Weber at his best. According to the originating page, Ms. Westenra was 15 when this was filmed.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-78215467522417885732009-03-04T06:10:00.002-06:002009-03-04T06:11:18.506-06:00

Two of four.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82468183625853976232009-03-02T06:46:00.002-06:002009-03-02T06:48:35.975-06:00

The lake at St. Crispin's (near Seminole), about a quarter of 7. One of four. Maybe five.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-46172454975969744212009-01-27T09:42:00.004-06:002009-01-27T10:55:39.727-06:00

Ice white as snowbrown grass designsa rorschach lawnA smile as thin as New Hampshireor as long as Californiaor as wide as Texasor as false as Wall Street.Eyes bright as a new moonor as broad as the Milky Way.Eyes searching eyes or busy crowds.Eyes evening drowsy.Eyes with pupils dancing like sweep second handsFingernails, songs at their tips,half moons under quarter lightWarm hand on handHead on

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-7807441629940455092009-01-24T09:49:00.002-06:002009-01-24T10:30:15.210-06:00

Pete Seeger, his grandson Tao Rodriguez, and Bruce Springsteen. Note that Pete, that wonderful iconoclast, sings verses rarely recorded - "By the relief office, I saw my people" and "The great big sign there said Private Property".

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-49895161826756945542009-01-16T06:28:00.001-06:002009-01-16T06:29:32.543-06:00

A time will come when a politician who has wilfully made war and promoted international dissension will be as sure of the dock and much surer of the noose than a private homicide. It is not reasonable that those who gamble with men's lives should not stake their own. - H.G. Wells, writer (1866-1946) Words to the wise, Dick Cheney

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-85962141929346985722009-01-13T16:00:00.000-06:002009-01-13T16:05:09.785-06:00

The last time I wanted to vomit into a trash can, I was in college. That was my freshman year, 1976. I was living in Worchester House, a converted Navy barracks, on the south end of campus. My roommate, Richard, was a tall lanky fellow - at least a head taller than me. It was clear we were each strange cats, and had little in common.I suspect it was early in the year that Richard suggested we go

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-56128442228038191042009-01-13T06:23:00.002-06:002009-01-13T06:24:35.336-06:00

Classic story song by Mark Erelli & Peter Nelson; performed here by Mr. Erelli.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-82228724671967787942009-01-07T06:02:00.000-06:002009-01-07T06:03:33.911-06:00

Society is like a stew. If you don't keep it stirred up you get a lot of scum on the top. — Edward Abbey, naturalist and author (1927-1989)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-23835459698574514232008-12-30T08:55:00.002-06:002008-12-30T08:56:51.465-06:00

Tie me to the rootswhere your hand grasps SpicaTie me to your life lineTie me where black is blandand red is waitingTie my shackles to the secondsTie the melody to that vagrant heartbeatTie the words to the burned grassTie me to the rising tideto the setting sunto morning mistto the winter chillTie me to the minutesTie me to the hours

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-12745513279785387922008-12-29T12:10:00.002-06:002008-12-29T12:11:20.226-06:00

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-43549655315655643232008-12-25T11:34:00.003-06:002008-12-25T11:40:59.599-06:00

In which I indulge my crush on Anne Hathaway, using images from Entertainment Weekly.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-19017703214266887202008-12-23T08:31:00.002-06:002008-12-23T08:41:00.187-06:00

A more eloquent discussion of a theme I've tried to express: that most so-called atheists are rejecting a particular definition, or image, of God. This gentleman goes further, to say that truly spiritual Christians refuse to put God in a box.J.B. Philips a famous translator of the New Testament in the '50s, also wrote a book titled Your God is Too Small. My understanding is that he was trying to

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-31926963544807690192008-12-21T08:02:00.002-06:002008-12-21T08:03:36.753-06:00

Left to right: Melchior, Balthazar, and Casper(jac, Kent, and Tiger)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-51608562866265015462008-12-20T19:42:00.002-06:002008-12-20T19:45:35.037-06:00

Whatever may be wrong with the world, at least it has some good things to eat.— Jack Clement, quoted by Roy Blount, Jr, in Oxford American Music Issue 2008, now on newstands.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-44928781625789577452008-12-20T09:35:00.003-06:002008-12-20T09:43:40.705-06:00

I learned of this video through the Jan ’09 issue of Acoustic Guitar. Ms. Yang is playing a Greg Smallman, the guitar featured in the "Great Acoustics" section. The appreciation is written by Adrian Legg, no slouch either.My search lead me to this video, which brought tears to my eyes.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-24743194838536484482008-12-14T07:46:00.002-06:002008-12-14T07:48:32.832-06:00

DJ's Aunt Shadow, as the star she was always meant to be.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-70741616747592195192008-12-12T12:00:00.002-06:002008-12-12T12:01:57.284-06:00

Thanks to some on-line instruction, I'm closer to achieving the "Warhol" effect. I think.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-33109514125135585022008-12-11T06:23:00.001-06:002008-12-11T06:25:08.674-06:00

Song by Tom Smith; video by a veteran of the Iraq War.Helmet tip to Brother Dave

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-50179130286147333272008-12-01T06:49:00.001-06:002008-12-01T06:49:54.808-06:00

Honeycomb foam floatsas a head on my green tea;I float into winter morning.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-56993992163377254502008-11-28T06:23:00.002-06:002008-11-28T06:24:06.451-06:00

DJ's "aunt" Shadow, Thanksgiving morning.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-60471176876897909092008-11-27T11:57:00.004-06:002008-11-27T14:40:06.174-06:00

I'm thankful for pink-pawed dawnstalking across yellowed grass;I'm thankful for yellowed grassand green weeds andand dust of leaves;I'm thankful for blown leavesa piebald pattern on my lawn.I'm thankful for my lawn,for the steps to my porch,for the stories my door tells,for the cat by the window.I'm thankful for the caton my lap.I'm thankful for the quiet of an empty house.I'm thankful for the

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-35410427158174215012008-11-22T07:28:00.007-06:002008-11-22T08:20:38.060-06:00

A little over a month ago, I drove to the Four Corners area in Northwestern New Mexico. It was a ten-plus hour drive. I made the trip to attend my cousin R—'s funeral.The curious thing about driving those ten hours was the fact that I could not recall much about time spent with R—. I typically saw her twice a year, at Thanksgiving and Christmas, when my family would travel to Ardmore to visit

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-2093544221021897002008-11-21T06:51:00.002-06:002008-11-21T06:53:20.866-06:00

Can you find the cat sunning itself in the morning light? It's one of the cats who live at the retreat center just east of Seminole, OK.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-85911514538129404522008-11-20T07:29:00.002-06:002008-11-20T07:30:21.501-06:00

Same lake, facing west. f5.6 @ 1/125

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-89112294029001499922008-11-19T07:38:00.002-06:002008-11-19T07:40:49.279-06:00

There is a path which circles the lake we've viewed the past few days. This small weed caught my attention as I walked early Saturday morning.f5.0 @ 1/30

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-57378564425222702122008-11-18T11:20:00.002-06:002008-11-18T11:21:33.322-06:00

Same lake as picture posted yesterday.f10 @ 1/125

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-67539368777896288392008-11-17T06:45:00.003-06:002008-11-18T11:21:47.047-06:00

Shot at a camp near Seminole, in SE Oklahoma.ASA 200 f10 @ 1/800

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-60481355065787209702008-11-14T06:23:00.000-06:002008-11-14T06:25:07.693-06:00

I don't know if God exists, but it would be better for His reputation if he didn't. — Jules Renard, writer (1864-1910)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-91278363926291673712008-11-10T06:38:00.002-06:002008-11-10T06:41:30.303-06:00

Strike the midnight bell at noon.— Zen SayingISO 200, f3.5 @ 30

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-45388296613396503932008-10-31T16:05:00.002-05:002008-10-31T16:07:19.860-05:00

Picture taken Saturday, October 11th, at the Myriad Gardens in downtown OKC. This was a blurred picture of a duck until salvaged and savaged in Photoshop Elements.

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-74895462363949544962008-10-30T06:21:00.000-05:002008-10-30T06:23:06.056-05:00

What sane person could live in this world and not be crazy? — Ursula K. Le Guin, author (b. 1929)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-85609068087981826442008-10-29T06:43:00.004-05:002008-10-29T06:52:31.012-05:00

It takes time to kill the Buddha,It takes time to shine your shoes,It takes time to choke the rainbow,It takes time to teach the blues.They took their timeThey took their timeThey took their timeThey took their timeIt takes time to shrink the dollar,To build your cross of gold,It takes time to spoil the waterbefore your child grows oldThey took their timeThey took their timeThey robbed us

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5217874.post-10599135516091777272008-10-28T06:38:00.001-05:002008-10-28T06:41:01.314-05:00

Where was the sound of Tommy Ramone hitting the first rim shot on Teenage Lobotomy before you heard it?— Contemporary Koan (from Zen Calendar)

Jonahnoreply@blogger.com0