Loving the Sound of Your Own Voice

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I began my odyssey of blogging. Before you gasp and run for a knife to slash your wrists, no, I’m not abandoning you. And with that, you see the depth of my illness.

I am thoroughly enamored of my own voice. The statistics would rather dispute that by and large. I have enough visits a day to suggest I’m not talking to the mirror, but on the other hand, I am no Andrew Sullivan. With that knowledge firmly in hand, you would think a bit of humility might follow.

I have some folks who think me rather funny, and perhaps informative, and some who also consider me a friend, and as friends do, support my efforts.

When I started this business of blogging, I set up to offer everything under the sun. You could find a dining room centerpiece link next to one on evolutionary transitional fossil discoveries. You got recipes mixed in with railing at fundamentalists.

As time went forth, and so far time does seem to progress in a straight line (although one can argue quite successfully that it slows with increases in speed), it became apparent that it was just too much junk in one place. So we winnowed out most of the crafty stuff and the recipes for the most part, and we settled into politics and religion with a smattering of science as I was moved.

Little by little, the religion has faded, not so much by design, as by, well, a recognition that the more technical aspects have an increasingly smaller and smaller audience. And so Walking in the Shadows filled that void for me, and I didn’t care much that it has a rather miniscule following, since it’s really where I like to reflect on my faith as I see it.

I dabbled with a “humor” site but really never got it much off the ground and I’ve since incorporated the posts here, though I think about three are still in draft, having not yet been posted.

Perhaps because our move got adjourned until spring, and having time on my hands, I pondered how to make sense out of my burgeoning collection of recipes which I was always losing or misplacing, and causing me increasing consternation. So I decided to start a blog just to record my recipes which is What’s on the Stove? At about the same time, I saw a link for a great chocolate cake, and that led me to JustaPinch and with that, my recipe stuff took on a life of its own. WotS has garnered quite a following and I enjoy it immensely.

You’d think that would be enough.

I took time off from my book reviewing, mostly because I didn’t want books lost in transit. Since then, I’ve requested a couple, and realized that I did want to move off religion and into politics and such. And I realized that this site was a lousy place to deal with books in general. And then there are all these other ideas that pop into my mind and don’t fit this format here.

Which is all to say, I have another. Another? Blog, blog, I have another blog. It’s going to deal with my reading and writing and thinking. And I don’t expect to write daily there by any means. I want to do more than simply record a paragraph about the last book I read. And I have a goal of sorts: to read more classics, especially Americans, whom I have woefully ignored most of my life.

I’m also trying to read as many as I can online. And this site will give links to lots of great free book sites, as well as direct links to specific books I read, and well, my thoughts, which are way important to me, and may not be at all to you, but that’s the nature of the beast.

So, anyway, now you know what Extraordinary Words is all about, or I think it will be all about.

Which is way more time than I wanted to waste saying, but as I said, I’m in love with my own voice.

Meanwhile, Jon Huntsman is dropping out, and the GOP loses it’s best chance, in my humble opinion, to beat Barack Obama. That is a good thing.

And Happy Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It is a day meant for service to others. Do the best you can, but at least remember that the most powerful tool in changing our world, is peaceful resistance.

I came upon a blog that you should take a look at. It’s called Woodgate’s View. I think you might like it. He seems to think correctly. HA!

Got this from Juanita’s. She got it from somebody else: NEW WORD:

NEWTSPAH

 Definition: (noun) To be so, so over the top you are a super dooper dooper hypocrite. So far, it’s unclear if anyone can top Newt and be accused of Newtspah except him.

I confess: We watched the Golden Globes. I make no apologies. Johnny Depp was the first presenter (BONUS) and I adore Ricky Gervais. So sue me.

This poem seemed cute, and funny:

So we’re two GOP primaries down
 But don’t worry, don’t pout, snarl or frown
 The fun won’t end soon
 Still so much to lampoon
South Carolina, the circus’ in town!
Mitt,  Newt, Ron,  Rick one and Rick two
For today we bid Huntsman adieu
 Who does God love more?
 Well clearly no one who’s poor
 At least that’s the creed of this crew
If God’s summoned each one to this calling
 Did he just want to laugh at their brawling?
 I may doubt that he’s real
But this atheist can feel
 That if not, he’d find these guys appalling
Which one is the worst hypocrite?
 Is it wetback-hiring Mitt?
 Or thrice married Newt
 Who really should have stayed mute
 When Bill Clinton’s infidelity hit
I confess that I do miss Herman Cain
 That was sure just a wacky campaign
But I don’t need to fret
 Now it’s Mitt’s turn to sweat
 As he tries to back pedal from Bain
So South Carolina as you go into vote
 And decide on which of these fools to dote
 Just remember this thought
 Your vote’s really for naught
 “Big Money”, that’s all she wrote!

by Sarah Firisen, through 3quarksdaily.

And on a final down-side, up-side:

The Green Bay Packers lost to the New York Giants (definite down-side)

The world was still here this morning (arguable up-side)

Looking at the Finer Side of Life

If your mother was anything like mine, complaints about dinner were met with “the little children in China would be happy to have carrots to eat.” If I groused that I didn’t get the one toy I wanted for my birthday, I was told, “the little children of Africa have probably never gotten a toy.”

So, sadly, and with great grumpiness, I can’t complain about the snow here in Iowa. The stupid East Coast just had to go and have a BLIZZARD. How rude! Coupled with the deluges in California and consequent mudslides, I’m unable to feel the least bit sorry for myself.

And that never sits well with me!

Being able to complain is just, well, so American.

But, I’ve taken an oath of sorts to try to listen to my better angel, at least until the new year. It’s just that there isn’t so much good news as you would think out there. We’re a surly bunch, and we like news that at minimum makes us feel better relative to our fellow humans. That’s just the way we are. How else to explain the likes of Cops on Patrol, and Bridezilla, and Hoarders?

Anyway, if you want to feel uplifted and also called into your better self, do go and read this lovely poem from the Franciscan Missionary Society–Christmas Blessing. H/T from Vox Nova.

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Speaking of faith, it’s puzzling, and always has been that fundigelicals prefer the KJV (King James Version) of the bible. They cling to it as THE definitive word of God. I’ve never been quite sure why, since it’s basically not a very good translation, and the language, though beautiful isn’t also easy to understand.

History Today has a great article on the history of the KJV. If fundigelicals actually knew this history, I suspect they might be a bit less enthused about it. It was directed, in some sense, to be a polemic for the right of kings, and thus against the interests of the Puritans who were a bothersome lot in England and elsewhere. The only reason why the Puritans in this country ended up using it, was because the Geneva Bible had been suppressed in England and the KJV was the only one they could get their hands on. Worse, the first printings of the KJV were so bad that they were almost heretical–referring to God’s ass at least one occasion!

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I’ve linked to Andy Borowitz before. His political humor is great. Today he explains what Pat Robertson has to say about the East Coast blizzard. As you can expect, God is punishing somebody that Pat doesn’t like. Go  read it and have a chuckle.

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Speaking of political humor, Mo over at Whatever Works, offered this gem. It’s a site called Political Irony. Lots of jokes, cartoons, a rundown of the talk show political humor. Just lots of fun stuff. I’m sure I’ll be pilfering from it regularly. Add it to your reader or subscribe to never miss a post!

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Speaking of more political humor, I saw this in my travels yesterday:

Of course it hurts. You’re being screwed by an elephant.

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Do you have a ritual for Christmas that you never miss? We watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, you know, Clark and his merry band of Griswolds?  We laugh at the same things again and again. It’s a tradition. By the way, the ham was delicious and we can’t stop eating ham sandwiches! Today we are switching to turkey enchiladas, which finishes off the Thanksgiving turkey. And NO it hasn’t been the fridge since November!

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We are getting three days of melting starting tomorrow! We are so excited. We can’t keep the smile off our faces. We may actually be able to get out without being blown out! Temps of 35, 40, 45 for the next three days! Heaven! Oh and rain too. Then freezing, so no doubt it will be slick as snot on Saturday or Sunday. We looked up our snow cleats for our boots! We are ready!

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This is a laugh. I mean, it really is funny/sad/pathetic/hysterically knee-slapping humorous.

Brian Fischer of the AFA, the homophobic “family values” group (one of thousands) wrote a “gotcha” column the other day.

“You dumb old gays! You had a pass to get out the army, should the food prove not gourmet, or the shower room not to have the hunks to ogle. You could go to the commander and announce your gayness. Well, no more,” Fischer gleefully slobbers, spittle flying,  his wild eyes darting. “No, your commander will say, ‘sorry Nancy boy’ back to barracks for you! Those days of special preference are over. You’re in the for the duration.”

Yes Margaret, there really is a crazy man who said that. I swear. Makes you blink and look around carefully. Once again, you fear, you might have slipped into the Twilight Zone.

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Ideas that Create has a post on virtual churches. Can they offer anything “real”? It’s a provocative look at an Internet phenomenon. See what you think.

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Finding all those retrospectives creepy? Especially the ones that tell you who died this year. I forgot some of them and was shocked all over again.

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Keep warm!

It’s Really Too Late

Are you starting to panic? Too much left to do and not enough time? Forgetaboutit! Tis the season to enjoy friends and family and good eats. Stop obsessing!

Easy to say I know. Not having to shop is a big plus. I’m in truffles today. I have them all set up on cookie sheets, just letting them harden up a bit before I do the rolling. This year it’s ground almonds, cocoa, sprinkles, and powdered sugar. I have 39, so ten of each except one.

Tomorrow the nut clusters and I have all the yummy cookie, candy stuff done. The cooking should be easy on Saturday. One casserole which throws together and the ham. The rest is just a veggie and a relish tray, and heating up some stuffing. Have to remember to get that out of the freezer tomorrow.

If you are deep into reflection on the true “reason for the season” however you define that, then you might find some uplifting thoughts at Women Beneath the Cross‘s, The Magnificat: Realizing God’s DreamCommonweal, in a short reflection tells us Jesus’ flight into Egypt, while of course echoing Moses, also speaks eloquently to immigrants today, and the dangerous lives they face. And Michael Hogue from Tikkun Daily Blog, reminds us that the only answer is hope in incremental improvements in a very imperfect world.

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I guess it’s pretty late for crafts, but you might want to stop by a Michael’s after the holidays and pick up some of these for next year to do. They are those old rather nasty looking “bottle brush” trees. Most everyone has had one or more of these in the past. Vickie at Uncommon Artistic Endeavors has all the simple directions to turn these cheap “trees” into real stunning decorations.

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I know that poetry, like most art is somewhat subjective. What I love, you loathe, or points between. But this poem, called Aristotle from 3quarksdaily, is simply stunning in its imagery. Please do yourself a favor and take a look. I don’t think you will be sorry.  

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Sometimes prayers are answered like immediately. I kid you not. (that was a popular saying back in the day.) We have this cat, Calvin. He’s a beauty, all orangey and spotted. He likes milk, and he bawls at you when he wants it. He’s taken to sitting on the table with me in the morning and following along with morning prayer.

He usually prowls around with the other boy cats during the night. Last night he was absent. This usually causes a minor concern that he has been let outside and forgotten. All doors are checked. He is not around.

So I figure he’s just hunkered down in one of his hidy-holes.  In the morning, no Calvin emerges to join me for Thursday, Week IV, antiphons and psalms. I begin to worry. As we discover various hidy-holes, he creates new ones. Is the tyke sick?

So, I’m doing my prayers, and I say, “God, will you push Calvin out into the open just so we know he’s okay?” Less than ten seconds go by, before I hear a rustling behind me. A large box is on the table, on its side, and Kate has taken to it as her refuge. When I look, Calvin is rearranging himself in it. Been there all night no doubt.

God, busy as things get, seems to have time for my simple request. :)

Believe it, or not, as you wish.

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It’s a slow day. What can I say. The truffles are done, and dinner is in the oven.

What’s on the stove: Arroz Con Pollo. Stuffed celery. Rolls.

Fa La La La La and All that Stuff

Last night was the longest night of the year, the shortest day. We had an eclipse that I didn’t see because of cloud cover. It’s only four days until Christmas. The Baby Jesus is coming! Since I’ve got all I need for a cozy holiday, I don’t give a flying fig newton if it snows us in.

For all these reasons, I’m not gonna talk about any of the repulsive, idiotic, evil, buffoons in Congress and elsewhere, until after December 25. We are gonna focus on funny, sweet, interesting, mind-opening, items that enrich, enliven, and empower. Promise.

But come, December 26, well we will be our old snarky self. Count on it.

Now to actually find some nice news.

I know I posted a book review yesterday. You’ll probably want to pick this one up too: It’s called Swallow and would make a great coffee table book, guaranteed to start a lively conversation.

Proving that there is a hobby out there for everyone, one Dr. Chevalier Jackson, began collecting items that he had removed from the bodies of his patients. Umbrella tips, opera glasses and padlocks. There are stories galore of people with strange desires to ingest all manner of bizarre “things.” Mary Cappello tells the tale I am told, with wit and aplomb. Take a look if you can swallow that kind of thing :O

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Every parent knows that children, both boys and girls, attempt to emulate their parents and parent themselves. They use pets, and dolls mostly.

Well it turns out that chimp youngsters, especially girl chimps try to do the same. They carry sticks around, cradling them, and other wise mimicking the “mothering” behaviors of their moms. Although in chimp society, females do most of the child care activities, even a boy or two has been seen caring for his stick. (Don’t you dare go there!)

Which just goes to show, that girl apes are really just chimps off the same block. :O

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Namelessneed is one of those real poets. You know what I mean. The kind of stuff I can’t write, but wish I could. You should always pay attention to such people because they touch you in the most unexpected ways. Go read W O R D M A T H S because I said so.

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Some families read Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus, as a Christmas Eve ritual. They mostly don’t read the opening part, with  all that genealogy stuff. Boring you know. Tim, at Straight-Friendly, shows us why we should read it, and what lessons we can learn from it. If you don’t read Tim regularly, you’re, well, missing more than you know.

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Do you miss Mad Men?  I do. Awfully bad. Really. Big Think has an article on it and why it’s still the best of the best.The message speaks volumes to our lives today. I wouldn’t argue with that assessment. Funny I should, since I have about as low an opinion as one can get of Ad men. I mean they are creatures of some other planet. I guess, their excesses, portrayed so elegantly on the show, are a lesson to us, one we should look at seriously.

What is my bitch with Madison Avenue you ask?   It’s that  their ads never bespeak a world that is actually real. Case in point.

There are, at this time of years, innumerable ads urging us to go out and buy cars as gifts! wrapping them up in big bows and surprising our beloved with their favorite brand. Except, that 99.9 percentages of us cannot afford to do this. Do they really thing the .01 percent who can watch television? Somehow, I rather doubt. it.

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What’s on the stove: t-bones with baked potatoes/sour cream and cauliflower with cheddar cheese.

The Wacko Right Has Lost it’s Giblets

The first couple  six times I read posts about this, I ignored it as the work of some nut case in Hoboken or Alabama. But then I started seeing more, and I realized that this issue has legs!

The wacko religious right is at it again. You see, when you decide what the bible means, then you cram, twist, turn-inside-out, turn-upside-down, and otherwise thoroughly alter reality to fit your notions. Then the world is okay. See? History agrees with ME.

Not content to trying to believe that our Founding Fathers (FFs) set up a Christian Nation upon a high hill in Plymouth Massachusetts, they are now trying to involve the poor Pilgrims in their revisionist ideas of what really happened.

It should come as no surprise that Rush-me-some-Oxycoton-Limbaugh is onboard. Ditto, Glenn-bend-you-mind-around-me-Beck. Singing the praises is nutjob-wannabe, John Stossel. Soon to be climbing upon the Silly Express will no doubt be Michele-which-way-to-Bellview-Bachmann and Sarah-worshipin-my-bank-account-Palin.

It goes, (the NEW and improved history) sumpin’ like this:

For reasons unknown, the pilgrims upon landing decided to engage in socialism. So they pooled all their stuff and lived in a big old commune, takin’ from each, and givin’ to each as was their due. This, bein’ unGodly, and most unbiblical, brought the wrath of the One Truest God down upon their heads, and they was a close to starvin’ come winter time. The dear Indians came to their rescue and saved ‘em.

Well, that was enough of that. The Pilgrims stopped that socialism stuff, and discovered capitalism and free market economies and they became fat, rich and sassy and lived happily ever after, until that Muslim black man came along and tried to undue all their Godly work.

That’s it in a nutshell, though why you would want it in a nutshell is not before us today and seems slightly weird. Perhaps so it could be hid away and protected from destruction from Godless socialists.

Well, none of it is true of course. In fact Stossel just changes the dates of the first Thanksgiving in an attempt to make it appear more in line with his bilge. Rush has been runnin’ this crap for some time it seems, but now it’s caught on, which just goes to show you that lies, damnable lies, have a viral impact and are catchin’.

Crooks and Liars has a fine refudiation of the urban myth and some actual facts about the earliest of our settlers, coming from actual and real historians and not the fake ones Foxy and it’s brigands unearth.

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It is reported that the Dems will be making another attempt to pass the Dream Act during this lame duck session. Border Explorer has an excellent piece on the truth of what the Act is and is not. Please read and familiarize yourself with the facts so that you can explain it to your more limited friends and neighbors. 

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I read a book review of Nobel Laureate Günter Grass’s latest book, The Box.  After reading what Adam Kirsch from Slate has to say, I think you might take a look. A serious book, but perhaps a very good one. You decide as usual. I seriously need to read more fiction!

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A topic of conversation for some time now, has been the unhealthy and unfortunate state of our media. While I don’t in the least subscribe to the right-wing blather than the MSM is liberal, I do subscribe to the belief that it has become mostly awful. Newspapers and serious magazines are on the wane. Can we trust our democracy to untrained folks like me to keep people somewhat informed?

Moe over at Whatever Works has a good piece that is an eye-opener for sure. The US ranks something like 21st in having a free press. Yes, 21st. It turns out that those countries that rank highest, subsidize their free press, something we don’t. It’s worth the time to look at this and perhaps follow a few links.

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I’ve found a new poet that is really special. I invite you to see the works of FadedRomantic.

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I don’t know about you, but I’m watching carefully the goings on in the Korean Peninsula. It is mildly chilling to watch the cold-dead eyes of Kim Jong Il, and the even colder eyes of his chosen successor, child-man Kim Jong Un. This IS a time for Sarah to shut her damn mouth, as well as all the politics-first GOP. The situation is just too tense. So please, for once in your sorry lives put the country first.

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Since food has been the focus of the week, I thought you might be interested in this new book, Empires of Food. You can read a review of it at History Today Magazine.

Speaking of which, oh the leftovers yesterday were sublime. Just like the original meal, and sometimes even better. Today it’s work on the sides, but we are having turkey sandwiches with (for me at least) swiss cheese, lettuce, slices of green pepper, paper-thin onion slices and mayo.

One of the best items was a new recipe for shredded Brussel sprouts. It was a surprise hit. I’ll probably write out the recipe in the next day or two. I do love to try at least one new thing every year, and this will definitely be a repeat!

Off to nosh.

Tripping the Light Fantastic

I’ve been thinking about poetry. In the end that got me to thinking about music and art in general. I’m sure you have found yourself thinking about them too. In case you haven’t, I’ll share.

I have always had a arm’s length kinda thing in regards poetry. I liked some (that which I could easily understand) and didn’t like some (that which I could not understand).  Pretty basic analysis.

I have no idea what poem the phrase “tripping the light fantastic” comes from, but I remember a high school teacher frustrated as all heck because we were bemused by her attempts to get us to “respect” poetry. We thought it all silly, and memorizing any portion of it, a sheer waste of time.

I was troubled by the poetry I didn’t understand, often written by supposed giants of literary ability. Well, no supposed about it, they were such giants, and I was terribly worried at times what I was missing and why. I thought to read it line by line and for all my efforts I still had no idea what was being said half the time.

As I said, some I did get. “By the shores of gitchee gumee, by the shining deep sea waters. . . .” That I get.

I learned that poetry was meant to evoke emotions, yet I still felt there must be actual meaning in the words themselves? Some code I was unable to penetrate. And so mostly I left it alone.

I’m thick headed about some things. Poetry must be one. I mentioned a few days ago, that a poem I read on a site which I linked to had spoken to me powerfully. It felt like someone had dug into my skull and spoke my deepest agonies, fears, sorrows, melancholia. I’m not sure what the poem was meaning, but I finally got it, I think.

It meant what it meant to me. It evoked feelings about my state in the this world. And to him/her it might have evoked feelings about something entirely different. It might have related to an event, a time, an experience quite different from mine, but the emotions were the same.

I’m not sure I’m making much sense, but I hope you are seeing what I mean in some way.

Music is the same. Musical compositions often have names, they define the subject matter of the composer, “The Messiah,” or the “Rodeo.” Now, common sense tells you that if you were unaware of the name and you were hearing it for the first time, you wouldn’t say, oh my he’s composing a piece about Jesus Christ. Yet, we are carried by the sounds with the title, and we reflect on Jesus, knowing that it is about Him, and we FEEL a kinship to the scriptures that talk of him.

Painting and sculpture are no different. Especially the more abstract kinds, but even those dubbed Romanticism and Expressionism also do this. They may depict more identifiable objects, yet they are distorted in some way that allows us to dig deeper, feel deeper, and connect with our spirit-soul.

At least that is what I think. That is why the arts are essential to our humanity. That is why we started to represent things in our own imaginings almost from the start. From the fertility goddesses we fashioned in the stone age to the cave paintings in Lascaux, France, to Monet and Picasso. We seek to speak the unspeakable and we seek to ask the world to understand what we cannot say.

Poetry is that. It speaks of what is not speakable.

And yet, I would not negate the poetry that tells the story. For it has it’s place. It is the journeyman’s way. It is what I write, and so many of us write, some better, some not so. But it is our ungifted attempt to speak of more than what we can utter in declarative sentence.

It is what caused Dorothy Parker to correct anyone who wanted to talk of her “poetry.” “No,” she would say, “not poetry, but my verses. I am no poet.”

Poetry is the Psalmist who cries for Jerusalem, yet, two thousand years later, manages to still speak to our condition as we cry for whatever is holy and seemingly withheld from our hands and hearts.

Camus suggests that true genius is accompanied by a requisite amount of banality. I have said more than once that every decent thought has been thought, we merely come up with them again and again, until such time as the other pieces are available and we can make something of them.

So poetry reminds us, in the end, of that timelessness. That the same hopes, dreams, fears, jealousies, hatreds are ever with us, no matter whether we awaken upon a mammoth robe or on 1200-thread count linen sheets.  It is all the same.

Nothing new here folks. Just an aging woman finally getting something through a puzzling mind. And I have yet to speak of war and scripture and things more marvelous still. But tomorrow is another day, God willing.

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What’s Up? 07/29/10

I’ve always thought the spy business was kinda silly. I mean, I realize it has its importance in times of actual war. Those people who infiltrate to gain information that will help your side win and do so more quickly, are courageous people it seems to me.

But this other stuff? Oh, my, it strikes me about the same as mercenaries. Gosh, gee, no war? I can’t kill no more? I’ll go volunteer to kill for you, for a price. Sick people.

Same for spies. Weirdos who try to inflate the importance of their spooky jobs. It always strikes me that the rest of us sit around making fun of them like indeed they are playing cowboys and Indians. Speaking of which here’s a fine review of Le Carre’s book, and some interesting commentary on the subject.

So who chooses to be a spy? Weirdos as I said. Probably the same class of human who wants to be a cop in a dangerous city. People who feel powerless. Not all of course. But in general I think.

The latest crop of spies are the bunch they recently caught in the US. It made me laugh. Kinda a joke don’t you think? Anybody think they were seriously gonna find out anything actually important? I doubt it. Loved watching the “transfer.” OOOOh so scary, and spyish.

I bet those Russians are kinda pissed now. Life here was probably more to their liking than what they now have in good old Moscow.

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Oh, Google musta read my rant, and got my pictures back to the way they were. Good job Google. I’m glad I carry that kinda power.

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The article linked above raised another interesting item came to me. The writer says he has read the novel many times. I’m not one to reread much of anything, though I have a couple of things, War and Peace comes to mind. With just so much out there to read, I feel I can’t spare the time to reread anything. The Contrarian is just the opposite.

I’m not sure what that says personality wise. Any ideas?

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A terrific REAL poet is amongst us. I suggest you try this one and then browse through the site for other perfect gems. This one spoke so powerfully to me, that I wonder if the author has gotten into my head.

When it comes to thoughtful ponderings, nobody is much better than Tengrain. See his thoughts on our dear Sarah (that woman is an idiot) Palin, and her unforgivable use of her son Trig.

D-cap is starting a series on how we might consider changing our constitution to govern better. I’m fully in agreement that something needs be done to at minimum stop the ability of a minority to keep the majority from getting a bleepin’ thing done. So get in on the ground floor of what will undoubtedly be a thoughtful series.

Jaliya at Pushing 50, has a post on Target CEO and his wife who have allegedly given Michelle Bachmann the max in campaign contributions. While I don’t usually shop at Target, I do like their stores, but I will definitely not be spending my money there if this is true. Thanks for the heads up Jaliya!

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I just made two loves of 7-grain bread. I got the recipe from Cooks TV show. I love their recipes generally, but they are usually more complicated than regular ones. But and it’s a big but, it’s frankly worth it. They really try everything and come up with the very best. My loaves weren’t as high as hers but otherwise look identical. They are supposed to be sandwich usable (most home made bread is too heavy, dense and dry for good sandwiches). If it’s as reported, I’ll share the recipe with ya tomorrow. They had a nice regular rolls recipe too. I make a batch of them and throw them in the freezer. Works wonderfully to jazz up any meal. Warm them and they are like you just baked them.

Sorry, I don’t seem to be finding much that interests me today. Some days are like that. I luv ya all. Be careful out there and keep your heads down.

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