Teachers and learners

I've got an attitude. Perhaps you've noticed. I can't remember a time I didn't. Unfortunately I'd be lying to say I'm not a little proud of it even though I suspect swagger is inversely proportional to competence. I'll leave that to critics and historians. Anyway, my 'tude got me in trouble again yesterday. Not trouble as in suffering consequences from others but in that it's a filter, I nearly missed a good thing. Well what I think is a good thing. Luckily, someone challenged me and I could admit they were right. Tell me you'd be amazed to hear that it took years before I was able to consider that I might be wrong when I am so RIGHT. Anyway, as a result I found my new favorite site today. Here's a video from it which I hope you will enjoy as well.

Aside to M. Lee: This clip illustrates why I continue to post those rants you hate.

Animal Magnetism

03:24

Via Collateral News. Visit them.

Open mind, insert facts

I hate to interrupt your regular Sunday morning routine (or whatever day, week or year it might be that you are reading this). I hope you will be a good sport and indulge me for the next few minutes. There are several documentaries and papers on the subject available online (you can research that for yourself) but, after you read this intro, I want you to read the short article posted below. Other than the fact that a contradictory message has been embedded in the basement of our brains, set to repel this information and make it feel extremely tedious and unnecessary, even dangerous, the article is a quick and easy read. But I want you to be prepared. If you have the courage, for one second, to take this information seriously the feelings of displacement, powerlessness and disorientation could be enormous. Nothing you won't survive and, though it leaves you with questions rather than answers, in admitting that there is even a slight possibility that this information is true, it will leave you with a much more sober view of the the century. So I hope that for the next 2 or 3 minutes you will jam open the doors to your mind and plow forward.

Steel Ignores Jet Fuel

by Edward Mitchell

I am not a scientist, nor a physicist, nor structural engineer. I am a Boilermaker, Shipbuilder, and Blacksmith Forger. Union. Now a contractor on military facilities. I build steel storage tanks for jet fuel. A few years ago, a typhoon blew through, and I got to watch a Mobil AST, with 1,000,000 gallons of diesel in it, get hit with lightning. The grounding failed, and the million gallons blew up.

Well, for a diesel fire that is. It didn’t “blow up”. It simply caught fire, burned itself out after 4 days, blackened the steel. Catch that? One million gallons of diesel fuel, burned for 4 days, and didn’t melt a thing.

The tank, 1/4″-thick steel, never melted.

Yet the 47 HUGE box-section core columns, the main structural supports of the WTC towers, are said to have melted?

Stop, I’ll wet my britches laughing.

I’ve melted, welded, forged, bent, twisted, repaired, sheared, punched, formed, plated, blasted and coated just about every metal you see used commonly in industry and construction, for over 32 years. I’ve welded many a steel I-beam: purlin clips, joining plates, you name it.

Do you recall the explosion you see after the second plane hits the tower? What caused that?

It was the JP-8 [jet fuel] contained in the aircraft’s tanks.

Did you see that huge fireball? What was that?

It was the kerosene (JP-8 is nothing more than refined kerosene, the same stuff you use in your camping stove).

It burned OUTSIDE the towers!

How could this fuel then have reconstituted itself after exploding, and put itself back inside the building?

And then?

It ran down 90 floors to melt the “un-insulated I-beams”? What? “Shook” the insulation off by jet impact? Are you kidding me? When the jet hit, it did not even knock folks down in the building below it! What nonsense!

Because I KNOW the dimensions of a 14,000 gallon fuel tank. It’s about 11’x11’x11’ — About the size on one of the many small offices on the floor that got hit. That’s all. The size of one little office the size of a 11-foot-cube.

Let’s look at this another way: The volume of each of the towers was roughly 50 MILLION CUBIC FEET.

The volume of the fuel was a relatively insignificant 1,300 cubic feet, about 0.003 percent!

Yet, you would have me believe NOT my own eyes, that see an explosion of huge proportions caused by the impact of the jet plane, but rather a tale that says exploded fuel turned back into liquid form, and less than 14,000 gallons, a ridiculously small amount of fuel, ran 90 stories down the stairways (the stairwells the firefighters used to come up to see “small fires”) and caused the beams to melt because the impact “knocked off the insulation”.

I have only one reply to that: What about WTC 7. Not hit. there goes THAT THEORY.

Steel at higher temperatures may bend, but it NEVER melts or turns to dust. Never. No, not ever.

Say, how about this for an argument: From now on, Controlled Demolition, Inc. never needs to use sophisticated computer analysis on where to place the explosives, amounts, sequences…oh no. We can simply pour 10,000 gallons of diesel fuel in the basement, stand back, and watch a PERFECTLY SIMULATED controlled demolition. Right?

Impeach Cheney

Bush photo op

Dennis Kucinich has it right. Cheney is determined to drag us into war with Iran. Apparently our only representative brave enough to do speak up, Kucinich introduced a motion of impeachment to stop this craven son of a bitch. Think the Iraq war is so insane that it can't happen again? Think again. Cheney is insane and insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results. And if we stay silent about Iran, so are we. Why? Because what did we do during the run-up to the Iraq war? Kept our mouths shut.

Now the ball is in Senator John Conyers' hands. As Chairman of the Committee on the Judiciary, he is gatekeeper for Kucinich's motion to impeach this monster. And he is reluctant to push it forward. Now it's our turn to lift a finger to defend our embattled democracy, lucky us, from our oh_so_cozy_lives. Our task is simple. Make a phone call and say IMPEACH CHENEY. How hard is that? Call Conyers. Phone: 202-225-5126 / Fax: 202-225-0072

Kucinich Writes to Conyers
Submitted by davidswanson on Sat, 2007-11-10 00:53. Congress | Impeachment

November 9, 2007
The Honorable John Conyers, Jr.
Chairman
Committee on the Judiciary
2138 Rayburn HOB
Washington, DC 20515

Dear Chairman Conyers

I am writing in support of H. Res. 799, the Articles of Impeachment which were referred to the committee relative to the Impeachment of the Vice President of the United States of America.

Recent reports indicate that the Vice President is attempting to shape the National Intelligence Estimate on Iran to conform to his misperceptions about the threat Iran actually poses. Much like his deceptive efforts in the lead up to the Iraq war, the Vice President appears to be manipulating intelligence to conform to his beliefs.

If the reports are true, they add additional weight to the case for impeachment. I believe impeachment remains the only tool Congress has to prevent a war in Iran. This information relates directly to the Article III charges in the resolution. I urge your timely consideration.

Sincerely,

/s/

Dennis J. Kucinich

Member of Congress

Yesterday's news

I had lunch at India Kabab yesterday. Warning: If you click on their link, adjust your speakers first. You'll be met with a blast of jaunty Indian movie music. India Kabab is my current favorite buffet in Reno. The food is good. I love dahl anyway plus I have an abiding fondness for tiny, downtown cafes. One of the other things to recommend India Kabab is the televisions tuned to a delightfully bad Bollywood MTV channel. The videos are so sentimental and impossibly romantic that they are the equivalent of Mexico's De Película Clásico, the 24 hour twilight zone of 30's - 50's era soaps. For me these things create a kind of global village hometown feel, but then I'm weird. But M. Lee is worse. On our last trip to Mexico, he so got deeply addicted to De Película that I seriously began to worry about him.

Flash back
Wednesday, November 23, 1870

I was in town for a follow-up appointment with the hand surgeon. (hand healing nicely, btw) He shares an office complex which houses an incredible collection of old Nevada photos rivaling any well endowed museum. I photographed this article while waiting in the exam room. It's from the front page of the 1870 Nevada State Journal. As it was framed, behind glass, hanging on a wall and a little too high for me to easily reach, the quality is poor, but, if you like language, history, politics, and/or schadenfreude, it's worth the trouble to read it. This story about the shooting of lawyer A.P. Crittenden by Mrs. Fair, the old harlet, has it all. I can only imagine what the writer would have to say about our current batch of rotten celeb religious politicos!

No fee writing contests thru December

More contests, including those with entrance fees, at Poets&Writers

Bear Star Press
Dorothy Brunsman Poetry Prize
A prize of $1,000 and publication by Bear Star Press is given annually for a poetry collection by a writer residing in a state west of the central time zone. Submit a manuscript of 50 to 65 pages with a $20 entry fee by November 30. Send an SASE or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
(See Recent Winners.)
Bear Star Press, Dorothy Brunsman Poetry Prize, 185 Hollow Oak Drive, Cohasset, CA 95973. (530) 891-0360. Beth Spencer, Editor.
www.bearstarpress.com


Black Caucus of the American Library Association
Literary Awards
Two prizes of $500 each are given annually for a book of fiction and a book of creative nonfiction written by an African American and published in the United States during the previous year. The awards, presented at the annual meeting of the American Library Association, honor original works of literature that depict the "cultural, historical, and sociopolitical aspects of the Black Diaspora." Publishers may nominate books published in 2007 by December 31. There is no entry fee. E-mail for complete guidelines and the list of jurors to whom the books should be sent. (See Recent Winners.)
Black Caucus of the American Library Association, Literary Awards, 3003 Van Ness Street NW, W522, Washington, D.C. 20008. John Page, Awards Chair.
jpage@wrlc.org
www.bcala.org


Arch and Bruce Brown Foundation
Short Story Competition
A prize of $1,000 is given every three years for a short story that presents the gay and lesbian lifestyle in a positive manner and is based on a historic person or event. More than one winner may be chosen. Submit a short story of any length by November 30. There is no entry fee. Send an SASE or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
Arch and Bruce Brown Foundation, Short Story Competition, 2500 North Palm Canyon Drive, #A4, Palm Springs, CA 92262. Arch Brown,
President.
www.aabbfoundation.org


Cintas Foundation
Fiction Fellowship
A fellowship of $15,000 will be given biennially for a fiction writer of Cuban descent to pursue a writing project. Cuban citizens, or writers with a Cuban parent or grandparent, who are not pursuing academic studies are eligible. Submit two copies of a fiction manuscript of up to 25 pages and two letters of recommendation by January 14, 2008. There is no entry fee. Send an SASE or visit the Web site for the required application and complete guidelines.
Cintas Foundation, Fiction Fellowship, c/o Dewey Ballantine, LLP, 1301 Avenue of the Americas, Suite 2907, New York, NY 10019-6092.
www.cintasfoundation.org


Cleveland Foundation
Anisfield-Wolf Book Awards
Two prizes of $10,000 each are given annually for books of poetry, fiction, or creative nonfiction published in the previous year that "contribute to society's understanding of racism or appreciation of the rich diversity of human cultures." Submit five copies of a book published in 2007 by December 31. There is no entry fee. Call, e-mail, or visit the Web site for the required application and complete guidelines. (See Recent Winners.)
Cleveland Foundation, Anisfield-Wolf Book Awards, 700 West Saint Clair Avenue, Suite 414, Cleveland, OH 44113. (216) 861-3810.
www.anisfield-wolf.org


Merton Institute for Contemplative Living
Thomas Merton Poetry of the Sacred Award
A prize of $500 and publication in Merton Seasonal is given annually for a single poem. Submit a poem of no more than 100 lines by December 31. There is no entry fee. Send an SASE, call, e-mail,or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
Merton Institute for Contemplative Living, Thomas Merton Poetry of the Sacred Award, 2117 Payne Street, Louisville, KY 40206. (502) 899-1991. Vanessa Hurst, Assistant Director.
vhurst@mertoninstitute.org
www.mertoninstitute.org


University of Notre Dame Press
Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize
A prize of $1,000 and publication by the University of Notre Dame Press is given biennially for a poetry collection by a Latino poet who has not yet published a book. Submit two copies of a manuscript of 50 to 100 pages by January 15, 2008. There is no entry fee. E-mail or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
University of Notre Dame Press, Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize, Institute for Latino Studies, 230 McKenna Hall, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, IN 46556. Francisco Aragón, Director.
faragon@nd.edu
www.nd.edu/~latino/poetry_prize


Puffin Foundation
Artist Grants
Grants of $1,000 to $2,500 each are given annually to emerging poets, fic tion writers, creative nonfiction writers, and other artists "whose works due to their genre and/or social philosophy might have difficulty being aired." U.S. residents may submit an application form, project description, project goals, budget, biographical information, and either a small work sample or references by December 30. There is no entry fee. Send an SASE for the required application and complete guidelines.
Puffin Foundation, Artist Grants, 20 Puffin Way, Teaneck, NJ 07666-4111. (201) 836-8923. Gladys Miller-Rosenstein, Executive Director.
puffingrant@mindspring.com
www.puffinfoundation.org


This entry has a $10 entry fee.
University of Southern California
Ann Stanford Poetry Prize
A prize of $1,000 and publication in Southern California Review, the literary journal of USC's Master of Professional Writing Program, is given annually for a single poem. Submit three to five poems with a $10 entry fee, which includes a copy of Southern California Review, by December 31. Send an SASE, call, e-mail, or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
Fiction Prize
A prize of $1,000 and publication in Southern California Review will be given annually for a short story. Submit a story of up to 8,000 words with a $10 entry fee, which includes a copy of Southern California Review, by December 31. Send an SASE, call, e-mail, or visit the Web site for complete guidelines.
University of Southern California, Master of Professional Writing Program, Southern California Review, 3501 Trousdale Parkway, Mark Taper Hall, THH 355J, Los Angeles, CA 90089-0355. (213) 740-3253. Annlee Ellingson, Editor in Chief.
scr@college.usc.edu
www.usc.edu/scr

Earth life

Breathing earth

The birth/death rate here just reflects human life. I wonder what the numbers would be if, say, animals destined for the slaughterhouse were factored in.

A good ol' girl

To: Cairo * From: Asia * July 10, 1995

Cairo - my Baby!

I love you
Bark Bark
meow (just kidding)
He he
Grrrowl
*Pat – Pat*
*Rub – Rub*

Take a flea bath

Go to the Lake

I MISS you ---

momma

November 4th, 2007 - 12:27 pm

I shouldn't be surprised. Her health had been failing, the latest a tumor under the eye. Last night, suddenly, she started hemorrhaging and it was clear that her time had come. Still I am stunned that how between yesterday and today, she is gone.

Actually, that's a smile. Even as a pup Cairo had
a wacky, wonderful smile but in the beginning I insisted
she wear this mask when my daughter brought her over.
I felt really bad about it but it was the only way to keep her
from consuming the house plants.

From a letter dated 7/18/95

Aside to CAIRO

I had a dream with you in it. It involved boats, of course, and tides and travel. Strange dream. I remember you running around exploring, doing your own thing. You weren't constantly by my side but whenever I called you, you came running with your tail wagging. I miss you so very much. Often, when I'm out walking, I look down and imagine you trotting alongside me with your fur shining and your tongue hanging out the side of your mouth.



I love you.

Momma



I was always trying to photograph that smile, but whenever she broke into it, she was also wiggling too fast to "capture" it. This was about as close as I ever got. In the next second, when she was in a full grin, she had already hopped and wiggled out of range. She greeted everyone with complete joy although every now and then somebody would freak out thinking she was being aggressive. I felt bad for both of them but especially Cairo because animals always pay the price for our ignorance. Sometimes I thought I should hang a sign from her collar saying, "SHE'S SMILING AT YOU, STUPID!"

She lived with all of us at different times,
and was always ready for a road trip
but loved her Momma best of all.

Waiting for someone, anyone, to join her for a walk

or toss her a snowball

Cairo and her Momma.

Eventually Asia sent me a dog nose mask, as its teeth were a bit like Cairo's in full grin. I took a photo of that mask this afternoon, after Cairo died. I didn't plan to blur the shot for some arty effect. The photograph just came out this way so finally I see. Cairo's smile could no more be "captured" than the twinkling of a star.

Another Dog's Death
in
Collected Poems, 1953-1993
by John Updike
Knopf

For days the good old bitch had been dying, her back
pinched down to the spine and arched to ease the pain,
her kidneys dry, her muzzle white. At last
I took a shovel into the woods and dug her grave
in preparation for the certain. She came along,
which I had not expected. Still, the children gone,
such expeditions were rare, and the dog,
spayed early, knew no nonhuman word for love.
She made her stiff legs trot and let her bent tail wag.
We found a spot we liked, where the pines met the
field.
The sun warmed her fur as she dozed and I dug;
I carved her a safe place while she protected me.
I measured her length with the shovel's long handle;
she perked in amusement, and sniffed the heaped-up
earth.
Back down at the house, she seemed friskier,
but gagged, eating. We called the vet a few days later.
They were old friends. She held up a paw, and he
injected a violet fluid. She swooned on the lawn;
we watched her breathing quickly slow and cease.
In a wheelbarrow up to the hole, her warm fur shone.

At the end, livin' the good life with grandpa.

"More than just a dog, she is her own Era"
by her Momma

Digital nightmare

Backing up that precious manuscript? Remember to use a flash drive, send copies to an online email account or both. And, in the interest of your own personal mental health, I suggest you give each version a separate and distinct name. This guy doesn't have a backup and has a presentation in 10 minutes.

(I tried posting the clip but, for some reason, it screws up my template but you can watch it here. Trust me. It's worth a click.)

CRASH

Watch your butt

Okay, NaNos, if you haven't finished your 1,667 words yet today, take a little break (00:25) then get back to work!

Photocopy your ass

00:25

Death industry

Seeing as how it's just one day after Halloween, here's a timely upbeat little clip from the Good Magazine called

The business of death

03:27

Halloween fire circle cast party

As it turned Mme. Nott and Wolfie kept an eye on

Straw Woman. The troupe convinced me that
Halloween is just too big to leave to an amateur.

Astoundingly beautiful, the seeds the pumpkin left
behind, tucked carefully away for the future.

The kids came for their candy
while inside the cast party got under way.

Confessional
a poem I wrote years ago
but read tonight at the
Invisible Theatre Halloween cast party.
Everybody loved it. Scared the stuffing
out of them, especially Little Bear.

02:15