short notes:
will brady's ruminations
will brady's ruminations
2004-12-25
CHRISTMAS GREETINGS from the archives ~ 25 december 2000
My friend Lorraine and I have a tradition of going to the ocean on Christmas morning and witnessing the sunrise | It got started after a dear friend of Lorraine's passed away from congestive heart failure | Prior to that passing she had promised the friend that, once he'd recovered, they would go to the beach and do just what we have done every year since that time | When he died, she went to the ocean anyway |
She vowed to look for something that indicated that he was aware of her sojourn | Sure enough, on the way back from the ocean, along the side of the spur road back to I-95, there was this tree, alone and not near any dwellings or stop points | It was adorned with ornaments and garland | She stopped and added ornament to them |
The next year, I joined her on the trip | During that year a close friend of my own had passed on (Brian C.) and I wanted to pay him my respects | It also seemed a perfect way to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas |
Every year we meet in the middle of nowhere at 5 a.m.
and armed with coffee, hot cocoa delectible cookie treats, and ornaments | We park our vehicle where we are able | Sometimes we're far from the beach; on other occasions, the gate to a state parking lot has been open and we go right to the edge of the sand |
Over the years, the conditions have varied | Only once was it impossible to actually see the sun (due to heavy rains) | Other times the beach was almost totally eroded away (from early winter storms), or unseasonably warm | We never know what to expect | And we find things | Horseshoe crab shells | Starfish | Strange pieces of driftwood and styrofoam |
We share and reflect upon what's happened to us both during the past year, and pay silent rememberance to our friends who have passed away or with whome we have lost touch |
And we add our tribute to the tree | To both of us, it seems a much more suitable to pay our respects to this holiest season |
Merry Christmas everyone | ¶ 01:02 0 comments
My friend Lorraine and I have a tradition of going to the ocean on Christmas morning and witnessing the sunrise | It got started after a dear friend of Lorraine's passed away from congestive heart failure | Prior to that passing she had promised the friend that, once he'd recovered, they would go to the beach and do just what we have done every year since that time | When he died, she went to the ocean anyway |
She vowed to look for something that indicated that he was aware of her sojourn | Sure enough, on the way back from the ocean, along the side of the spur road back to I-95, there was this tree, alone and not near any dwellings or stop points | It was adorned with ornaments and garland | She stopped and added ornament to them |
The next year, I joined her on the trip | During that year a close friend of my own had passed on (Brian C.) and I wanted to pay him my respects | It also seemed a perfect way to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas |
Every year we meet in the middle of nowhere at 5 a.m.
and armed with coffee, hot cocoa delectible cookie treats, and ornaments | We park our vehicle where we are able | Sometimes we're far from the beach; on other occasions, the gate to a state parking lot has been open and we go right to the edge of the sand |
Over the years, the conditions have varied | Only once was it impossible to actually see the sun (due to heavy rains) | Other times the beach was almost totally eroded away (from early winter storms), or unseasonably warm | We never know what to expect | And we find things | Horseshoe crab shells | Starfish | Strange pieces of driftwood and styrofoam |
We share and reflect upon what's happened to us both during the past year, and pay silent rememberance to our friends who have passed away or with whome we have lost touch |
And we add our tribute to the tree | To both of us, it seems a much more suitable to pay our respects to this holiest season |
Merry Christmas everyone | ¶ 01:02 0 comments
MEANING OF CHRISTMAS
We went to the local United Church of Christ for the Christams Eve ceremony | As I sat there it occured to me that it was the religious and political leaders of the time that ordered the mass murder of all infants so king Herod could be free from cometiton for his seat of power |
Without a doubt Christ would not be welcomed by the power elite | That'ud teach us who'se "christian" |
The Reverend read from a letter sent by a soldier in the trenches in World War One | He spoke of how both sides stopped their battle for 24 hours, freely admitting they'd be up and killing one another soon after that | ¶ 00:40 0 comments
We went to the local United Church of Christ for the Christams Eve ceremony | As I sat there it occured to me that it was the religious and political leaders of the time that ordered the mass murder of all infants so king Herod could be free from cometiton for his seat of power |
Without a doubt Christ would not be welcomed by the power elite | That'ud teach us who'se "christian" |
The Reverend read from a letter sent by a soldier in the trenches in World War One | He spoke of how both sides stopped their battle for 24 hours, freely admitting they'd be up and killing one another soon after that | ¶ 00:40 0 comments
2004-12-24
2004-12-23
PERSONAS
Jack Newfield 1938-2004 |
I've been reading Jack Newfield's writings ever since I first discovered the Village Voice from a beatnik lady who frequented the pharmacy where I stocked shelves when I was age 12 |
It wasn't until 1969, however, that I so recalled an article he wrote that I saved it in a scrapbook I'd been keeping | While the book is long gone [alas] one recollection of the piece has stayed with me |
The recollection is that if you are so alienated from the culture in which you live that you cannot stand it, then you had better be prepared to offer some alternative | At the time, this struck me as genius |
It still does | Jack will be greatly missed |
Jack Newfield 1938-2004 |
I've been reading Jack Newfield's writings ever since I first discovered the Village Voice from a beatnik lady who frequented the pharmacy where I stocked shelves when I was age 12 |
It wasn't until 1969, however, that I so recalled an article he wrote that I saved it in a scrapbook I'd been keeping | While the book is long gone [alas] one recollection of the piece has stayed with me |
The recollection is that if you are so alienated from the culture in which you live that you cannot stand it, then you had better be prepared to offer some alternative | At the time, this struck me as genius |
It still does | Jack will be greatly missed |
SITES BY OR ABOUT JACK NEWFIELD: Jack Newfield | Eve Berliner's A Journalist of Sacred Rage | John Nichols Newfield's Passionate Journalism | Newsday's Obituary | NPR's Loss of a Prolific Muckraker | and not to be forgotten the Village Voice's Tribute |
¶ 21:07 0 comments
VALUE OF LIFE
Last August, In Wise County Virginia, a three-month old kid named Jeremy Davidson was crushed to death in his bed by a boulder falling from a road widening project being conducted by A + G Coal Company | The road widening effort was being done so A + G could develop a a mining process known as "mountain top removal" | Virginia state regulators found that the coal operators were operating outside the confines of their permit |
Mine personnel interviewed indicated they were aware that there were residents below the road, yet no precautions were taken to avoid material being pushed over or from being dislodged | August 21, 2004, interview statements indicate the mine and company personnel were aware of the potential hazard |
The company was fined only $15,000 in the matter | Although it was found that Matt Mining [a subcontractor to A + G] were aware of the hazards, that they did not have a permit to transform the access road into a road used for hauling and did not have clear signs outlining the mine permit area, coal operators are protesting this fine | The company is protesting the violations and having to pay the fines |
A+ G Coal had another mining fatality in 1999 when a water truck went therough an earthen berm careened down a hill and killed the driver | No fines were issued at the time |
¶ 08:46 0 comments
Last August, In Wise County Virginia, a three-month old kid named Jeremy Davidson was crushed to death in his bed by a boulder falling from a road widening project being conducted by A + G Coal Company | The road widening effort was being done so A + G could develop a a mining process known as "mountain top removal" | Virginia state regulators found that the coal operators were operating outside the confines of their permit |
Mine personnel interviewed indicated they were aware that there were residents below the road, yet no precautions were taken to avoid material being pushed over or from being dislodged | August 21, 2004, interview statements indicate the mine and company personnel were aware of the potential hazard |
The company was fined only $15,000 in the matter | Although it was found that Matt Mining [a subcontractor to A + G] were aware of the hazards, that they did not have a permit to transform the access road into a road used for hauling and did not have clear signs outlining the mine permit area, coal operators are protesting this fine | The company is protesting the violations and having to pay the fines |
A+ G Coal had another mining fatality in 1999 when a water truck went therough an earthen berm careened down a hill and killed the driver | No fines were issued at the time |
¶ 08:46 0 comments
WEBSITES
Feeeds
Tired of constantly visiting your favorite hyper-prolific blog author/editors? | Wouldn't you rather see the likes of Boing Boing, J-Walk Blog, Eschaton, kuro5hin or Yahoo's Oddly Enough News all at one time? | Then visit Phillipp Lenssen's Feeeds, an interesting page that displays summaries of items posted at various blogs |
Feeeds
Tired of constantly visiting your favorite hyper-prolific blog author/editors? | Wouldn't you rather see the likes of Boing Boing, J-Walk Blog, Eschaton, kuro5hin or Yahoo's Oddly Enough News all at one time? | Then visit Phillipp Lenssen's Feeeds, an interesting page that displays summaries of items posted at various blogs |
THANKS TO J-Walk Blog for the link
¶ 07:17 0 comments
2004-12-22
DRUG WARS | DRUG WHORES
Researchers in bed with Big Pharma ~ big time! | Now, I can't say I'm terribly surprised | Corruption just seems to be a natural layer of skin to some folks |
What I'm alluding to here is the findings that staff writer David Willman exposed today in the L.A. Times | First, some definitions:
Researchers in bed with Big Pharma ~ big time! | Now, I can't say I'm terribly surprised | Corruption just seems to be a natural layer of skin to some folks |
What I'm alluding to here is the findings that staff writer David Willman exposed today in the L.A. Times | First, some definitions:
Next, some of the detail of the sordid acts uncovered:• whore: corrupt by lewd intercourse
• intercourse: communication between individuals
• prostitute: one engaged in the sale of services for money or other kind of return, generally indiscriminately with many persons... or corporations [legally deemed to be "individuals" thanks to an absurdly bad Supreme Court ruling over a century ago]
• lewd: suggestive of or tending to moral looseness
I just don't know how much of this kind of economic obscenity will continue to be condoned by politicians and the public | Do we never tire of repeatedly being robbed at the check-out counter? Or shall there one day be an uprising against this kind of blatent exploitation of those inpositions of public trust? |• Dr. H. Bryan Brewer Jr: a leader at NIH, part of a team that wrote new cholesterol guidelines | He also has written favorably of a controversial cholesterol medication | For years while making recommendations in the name of the NIH, Brewer was working for the companies that sell the drugs | From 2001 to 2003, he accepted about $114,000 in consulting fees from four companies including $31,000 from the maker of Crestor [be sure to loudly and personally thank this man for his part in the controlling the drug industry's influence if you ever see him in public]
• Dr. Lance A. Liotta: a laboratory director at the National Cancer Institute, while working in his official capacity, assisted a company trying to develop an ovarian cancer test | He took $70,000 as a consultant to the company's rival | Development of the cancer test stalled |
• Dr. Harvey G. Klein: the NIH's top blood transfusion expert, accepted $240,200 in fees and 76,000 stock options over the last five years from companies developing blood-related products | At the same time, he wrote or spoke out about the usefulness of such products without publicly declaring his company ties |
ABOUT THOMAS NAST: From 1858 to 1887 American political cartoonist Thomas Nast drew cartoons for Harper’s magazine, one of the early illustrated periodicals in the United States | Nast created many now-commonplace caricatures, including the Democratic donkey, the Republican elephant, and Santa Claus. Nast’s barbed satires were extremely influential and helped to discredit several corrupt politicians and organizations | Thanks to Sam Smith for bringing this to my attention at his weblog, UnderNews
¶ 23:08 0 comments
HOMELESSNESS
Being without domicile does not mean that one is dirty, worthless, lazy, pitiful, despicible or vile |
Would that everyone recognized this | All too often it means ~ if one is homeless ~ that one is vulnerable to a myriad of problems | You can't try to get work the same day as a place to stay | You are denied the change to purchase just about anything from an old beat up car to storage renatl space for your possessions | There is no health care plan | You can be victim to violent predators, from drug addicts to demented affluent suburbanites out to play a twisted game for 'hunt the human prey' |
Even when "housed" folks deign to spend time with you, there all too often seems to be 'an edge' to the interaction | From well-meaning [though not infrequently misguided] faux sociological interviews wanting to know how you got to this, to guilt-ridden outpourings of inconsistent generosity, the messages from the well-off can be disconcerting |
Half the people who talk to a person who is homeless think he or she is mentally ill, failing to recognise that ~ oft-times ~ larger societal "illnesses" [greed, indifference, prejudice] and their end effects, result in people losing residences and any sense of stable life | Few will stop to start anything resembling some tentative acquaintence, much less a friendship | An even smaller number of "housed persons" ever stop to reflect on the real causes of becoming homeless |
Then along comes Christmas | People do the outporuing of giving; governors and mayors and the occasional movie star spend a couple of hours in a soup kitchen | So much easier than pushing for fundamental change of the social order | How few actually ever make the psychic/spiritual connect to these souls amongst us to have them "...become our rare and significant others..." |
People who are homeless have many of the same needs, dreams, hopes, wishes and goals as most anyone else | The need for affordable housing, an actual choice in where one lives and in what one does on a day to day basis | The need for medical attention, gainful work, and the right to be treated with respect and dignity As long as even one among us is living destitue in a society of wealth and abundance, it is eveidence of gross injustices remaining commonplace | Think about this, then do something different to counteract the causes of this common ~ but disturbing ~ plight |
PIX CREDIT: from Real Change News
Being without domicile does not mean that one is dirty, worthless, lazy, pitiful, despicible or vile |
Would that everyone recognized this | All too often it means ~ if one is homeless ~ that one is vulnerable to a myriad of problems | You can't try to get work the same day as a place to stay | You are denied the change to purchase just about anything from an old beat up car to storage renatl space for your possessions | There is no health care plan | You can be victim to violent predators, from drug addicts to demented affluent suburbanites out to play a twisted game for 'hunt the human prey' |
Even when "housed" folks deign to spend time with you, there all too often seems to be 'an edge' to the interaction | From well-meaning [though not infrequently misguided] faux sociological interviews wanting to know how you got to this, to guilt-ridden outpourings of inconsistent generosity, the messages from the well-off can be disconcerting |
Half the people who talk to a person who is homeless think he or she is mentally ill, failing to recognise that ~ oft-times ~ larger societal "illnesses" [greed, indifference, prejudice] and their end effects, result in people losing residences and any sense of stable life | Few will stop to start anything resembling some tentative acquaintence, much less a friendship | An even smaller number of "housed persons" ever stop to reflect on the real causes of becoming homeless |
Then along comes Christmas | People do the outporuing of giving; governors and mayors and the occasional movie star spend a couple of hours in a soup kitchen | So much easier than pushing for fundamental change of the social order | How few actually ever make the psychic/spiritual connect to these souls amongst us to have them "...become our rare and significant others..." |
People who are homeless have many of the same needs, dreams, hopes, wishes and goals as most anyone else | The need for affordable housing, an actual choice in where one lives and in what one does on a day to day basis | The need for medical attention, gainful work, and the right to be treated with respect and dignity As long as even one among us is living destitue in a society of wealth and abundance, it is eveidence of gross injustices remaining commonplace | Think about this, then do something different to counteract the causes of this common ~ but disturbing ~ plight |
TO LEARN MORE: Survival Guide to Homelessness | Facts about Homelessness | National Law Center on Homelessness + Poverty | Moyra Peralta's Street Photographs | Connecticut Coalition | United Way [Seattle] Out of the Rain Initiative | Northeast Ohio's Coalition for the Homeless | Real Change's Homeless Snapshot
¶ 02:27 0 comments
WE GO A CAROLING Written, but never posted, on 20 December 2004
Bev + Steve invited us to go caroling on Saturday night on a hayride romp through some of the residential paths and byways in Moodus | 
We all met at the "Trilobite House," had buffalo chili and spiked mulled cider before heading off to make fools of ourselves |
It was great fun and, in the minds of the participants, closer to what the Holiday Spirit is / ought to be about... sharing joy with others, particularly sharing with total strangers | We drove around singing and stopped in front of houses
where it appeared that people were home | Only two houses seemed unresponsive | Other folks came outside and listened | We sang Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer a lot! | One family offered us cocoa "...or something hot to drink..." | Another woman laughed when she saw us and wanted to know what we were drinking [we laughed at that one, some of us nipping on Jagermeister, Blackberry brandy and 1.5 liter bottles of Merlot | Others among us were clean and sober]
After the two hour below freezing temperature ride, we went to Mike and Dory's house, sang carols to the kids, and we were followed up with Santa Claus coming out from the bushes to say hello and talk with the kids about, well, things of importance to Santa Claus |
Before the end of the evening, plans were being made for next year |
PIX: Mary Beth Mordacai , Will Brady + Beverly Floyd
Bev + Steve invited us to go caroling on Saturday night on a hayride romp through some of the residential paths and byways in Moodus | We all met at the "Trilobite House," had buffalo chili and spiked mulled cider before heading off to make fools of ourselves |
It was great fun and, in the minds of the participants, closer to what the Holiday Spirit is / ought to be about... sharing joy with others, particularly sharing with total strangers | We drove around singing and stopped in front of houses
where it appeared that people were home | Only two houses seemed unresponsive | Other folks came outside and listened | We sang Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer a lot! | One family offered us cocoa "...or something hot to drink..." | Another woman laughed when she saw us and wanted to know what we were drinking [we laughed at that one, some of us nipping on Jagermeister, Blackberry brandy and 1.5 liter bottles of Merlot | Others among us were clean and sober]
After the two hour below freezing temperature ride, we went to Mike and Dory's house, sang carols to the kids, and we were followed up with Santa Claus coming out from the bushes to say hello and talk with the kids about, well, things of importance to Santa Claus |
Before the end of the evening, plans were being made for next year |ABOUT THE "TRILOBITE HOUSE": Bev had a dream, some years back, to build a house based on the general shape of a trilobite | The primary contractor was Ralph [who I've mentioned before] and while it appears to be a single storey nestled in the woods on a knoll, it really is a 4-1/2 storey structure that literally seems to float above the lake | There are a half dozen real trilobite fossils stashed among the masonry work in the house | They wrote about the house in a shared journal which is posted on the 1000 journals website, Journal # 746 [page 2]
¶ 01:48 0 comments
MORTALITY Written, but never posted, on 17 December 2004
Putting the Sylvester cat down served as a trigger for reflecting on death |
The veternarian, Dr. Ficke, had some plaintive comments, and made me feel he, too, felt the loss | He also shared a caustic note or two [1] about folks who euthanize their pets because they are inconvenient ["...Oh, the dog pissed on the carpet, we can't have that when visitors are coming | Put him down!"] and [2] about drug companies who push expensive medications while discontiuing those that don't make a whopping profit but can easily aid relief from suffering or even cure a malady for next to nothing [no surprise there]
Sylvester's death got me recalling my father's passing, where I was in the room at the time | He was dying of a cirrhotic liver complicated with cancer | Kidney failure was evident | I'd driven right from work to his house [a 5 to 9 hour drive, depending] and sat with him | Driving there I'd thought of so many things I wanted to tell him yet even though he was conscious, when we were in the room together, all I could think of were dumb, ultimately trivial complaints | I sat in the room on vigil in case he needed anything until around 0500 hours, nodded and woke with a startle | To this day I remain certain the "startle" was his moment of passing | His body was still warm, but no pulse | To this day I rue not having been able to share his final hours with a more upbeat send-out |
Bill didn't want his cat cremated, so a box was built to put him in, and I did a ritual interrment including red cedar sprigs, white sage, white oak, woodash, dried cat food and the last bottle of insulin and syringes from Bill's apartment | Somehow, I can't conceive of cats as being Christain; so he ended up with a ceremony that mixed Native American, Pagan and ancient Egyptian burial practices | Next week, after Christmas Day, Bill shall go find a new kitten or two to replace the empty place left with Sylvester's passing |
Putting the Sylvester cat down served as a trigger for reflecting on death |
The veternarian, Dr. Ficke, had some plaintive comments, and made me feel he, too, felt the loss | He also shared a caustic note or two [1] about folks who euthanize their pets because they are inconvenient ["...Oh, the dog pissed on the carpet, we can't have that when visitors are coming | Put him down!"] and [2] about drug companies who push expensive medications while discontiuing those that don't make a whopping profit but can easily aid relief from suffering or even cure a malady for next to nothing [no surprise there]
Sylvester's death got me recalling my father's passing, where I was in the room at the time | He was dying of a cirrhotic liver complicated with cancer | Kidney failure was evident | I'd driven right from work to his house [a 5 to 9 hour drive, depending] and sat with him | Driving there I'd thought of so many things I wanted to tell him yet even though he was conscious, when we were in the room together, all I could think of were dumb, ultimately trivial complaints | I sat in the room on vigil in case he needed anything until around 0500 hours, nodded and woke with a startle | To this day I remain certain the "startle" was his moment of passing | His body was still warm, but no pulse | To this day I rue not having been able to share his final hours with a more upbeat send-out |
Bill didn't want his cat cremated, so a box was built to put him in, and I did a ritual interrment including red cedar sprigs, white sage, white oak, woodash, dried cat food and the last bottle of insulin and syringes from Bill's apartment | Somehow, I can't conceive of cats as being Christain; so he ended up with a ceremony that mixed Native American, Pagan and ancient Egyptian burial practices | Next week, after Christmas Day, Bill shall go find a new kitten or two to replace the empty place left with Sylvester's passing |
SOME INFO AND SITES ON BURIAL and PASSAGE RITUALS: Cairns | Beothuks and Europeans | Mesolithic Man | AcaDemon's Summaries of Papers on Burial Rites |
¶ 01:43 0 comments
