Monday, July 20, 2015

Historian Asks New Mexico to Set the Record Straight on Billy the Kid’s Death

Lib fail in Canada

Dinosaurs on Utah

Turkey Border to be Made Secure

Tesla Model S

Freud and Kafka

Air pollution in space...

Can Greece Break out?

TAP: How the South dries the economy

Cameron Blair?

Should Canada Sell it Water?

Trump leaves even liberals cold

ISIS Designate Sub

ISIS Leader Is Delegating His Powers in Case He Is Killed

The ISIS is looking liked a warped state.


Pennies on the Dollar

This is why the government keeps getting hacked


Irish Case for Europe's Distaster

Greece Repays Almost All It Was Lent

The Irish Parties Do Not Like Each Other

I got better....

A Day Not Like Any Other Day

It is for certain that I know nothing except the bottom of my shoes, in this only because I have walked almost every day in them. I can remember when they clawed on grass, that went up to my chest, and beyond so until the fields reached the stream, and thence all to the deep woods. Later on I would know that the woods were for animals and men to arouse and bubble, but at the time I was nine and new nothing about it. The whole world seemed fresher and new because of my place in it. The cats and dogs seemed eternal, and even the birds were to be refreshed each year. I would later come to understand death in its fullness, that at the time even death was a slow process, which I had only seen in glimpses when something died. I did not understand that time happened to people, or that it was wholly a different state than life.

Even at the time I was thinking about life and death, I was observing the field which had not been mowed in weeks, and was thus littered with spiders and other sorts of creatures. Creatures which were doing their work as they understood it. There was also two or three Robin redbreast picking at the ground. Obviously I could not actually see them but I could see them crop up and go to their nest and feed the young with the rich meal that they had concocted.

These, and other matters, had he different edge to them, in a brain that was still growing and comprehending. I am still comprehending them now, but in retrospect rather than as flush as the day is young. Even now has I write the words from a distant paper, transcribing them word by word, I can see the newness of my site, when site was young for me. There was a distant and different feel to everything I did, when I thought that a large town numbered about 100,000 or so, not realizing that that was just a diminution. What I did not realize at the time, was that this was a down dying, where as once it had been home to Steinmetz and others, working on things which were important.

Then there was only a single difference in technology, where as my parents could recite any number of changes, again it was the difference between the old age and the new, not realizing that time had quailed to stillness, and I would never see a time where we could leap for the stars.

I guess it must have been around 1970, or so, when we still felt we were casting aside corn, and lettuce, and other things of earth, and wanting things that we had made. Their was something about this that was precious and forbidden, as if magic would steal back any progress that we had made. It was in the gnarled insides of distant trees that grew up pond, or in the nooks and crannies of conifer and bushes which lied right next to the slate stone tiles which made up a kind of secondary buttress outside the walls that I lived in.

At the time, I did not know, that I was living in a three story mansion, with a large area around it. Because as a child, where I lived was normal, as normal as any place that could be found. It did not occur to me that other children did not live in brick buildings, or that a date around 1800 - actually a little bit before – was not the norm in that place. It did not occur to me, that lining out across the fields on a fallen Elm tree was distinctly not normal. I would only know this later.

But I did know the sound of the mail truck coming along the road, and delivery mail. I knew that the mailman had to reach a different path to deliver mail then did the rest of them, and across the street they would watch the mailman as intently as I did. It did not occur to me that they were poor, or that they were watching intently as to what was delivered. The word spy would never have occurred to me, though that is what they were doing.

One day, after the mailman had left, I went down to the mailbox, and instead of little letters, much were printed - not handwritten – there was a large letter more than three times the size. It was handwritten, but I did not know the writing, it was entirely unique to my eye. I rapidly set it against the corner of my arm, and immediately sprinted to tell my mother about this wondrous occurrence.

Up ahead along the broken path which was the driveway, at that point unfurnished by pavement, and filled with debris that accumulates in its state, I seized the doorway and came in. inside was a coat room, which would be littered in the time of the storm. I would then have to turn to the right, so I could climb the four steps into, what seemed to me, and enormous kitchen.

There at the large table sat my mother, it seemed like she was perpetually paying bills, and doing other things which adults did which had no need for my assistance. Out of the enormous kitchen window – as large as for other windows combined, which my grand father had put up some years ago – it was still light and not yet even dimming light. The sun had just crest the trees, in what seemed like a ritual. Remember their were trees all over the place.

I gave the enormous letter to my mother, and pointed out the letters which I could not read, though I had taken lessons from my uncle in French, but these were squiggles that I could not decipher. My mother took the letter, and immediately rose and unhook the phone. I immediately heard the title for my grandmother, it is tones were immediately recognizable to my ear.

It ran for seven times, and then was picked up. I could not exactly here what was the said on the other side – but the noise was rather distinctive, and carried a harsh reference. Even at the time, I knew that my grandmother was giving orders, and my mother was responding in the same way that I respond to her. It made quite an impression, because it indicated that among adults there was a specific higher, and not just a level floor which all adults were. Remember at the time, this was new to me.
Finally she put the receiver down, and looked at the with a condescending air – which I of course hated – and begin to explain that this was from a friend of my grandfather, but what it meant his that we were going to live with my grandparents. It was not that we were going to lose this house, mind you, but other people would rent it from us.

I bitterly and vigorously protested, all that I knew was from this house. But she said that they would be different – by which she meant better – and I was going to go to a much more adult high school. I do not have to say, that I stormed off. I do not remember clawing in to my second Story window, and wishing that the letter had not arrived. I stood and pondered the desk which was in my room – not that it was mine, just that it littered the corner of my room. It was in a modern style, completely at odds with the décor which ranged from the mid-1800s, but it swung its desk, and seemed to be laughing at me, that I was earlier in the day at home, and now I was adrift.

Forever Autumn

New Scot Ref To Be Held?

Decline on the Edge

New Musical in text

Saudi Women Crowd The Sand Ceiling

El Nino Grows


Noon Hits 20 Jul

Turkey call blast "Terrorism"

Small ... No Really Small

Morning Hits 20 Jul

Gold Hits 5 year Low

Just throw money at them

UK prankster Simon Brodkin throws money at Fifa's Blatter - BBC News
Fifa official say if has "Zero" to with football",  perhaps then he should work for minimum wage.

PR: Defunct Mags

TNR: The First

PR: The Ezplosion

An Evening With Scout

Love kaput?

Your affaire will cost you

CBC Why cable co dom't care about pass sharing (yet)

Waspos: US and Cuba restore ties

Washpost on Bernie and NRA

Morning Hits 20 July

Clinton to Push Revamp of Capital-Gains Tax Rates
Dodd-Frank Creators on Wall Street Reform, Five Years Later
Frenzy Around Harks Back to Dot-Com Boom
Is the euro tarnished for good? - BBC News
BBC - Future - The people ‘possessed’ by computers
Cuba and US restore relations
Huawei reports 30% jump in revenue
Greece: A look at the scale of hardship
Bandleader Alexander died aged 100
Giant animals you've never seen
Murder at Sea: Captured on Video, but Killers Go Free
Once Quiet Russian Town Buzzes With Military Activity
For Republicans, Pope’s Visit Comes With Tensions
Afghan troops 'killed by US air strike'
Chinese man builds fake police station in flat and poses as cop in elaborate con | World news | The Guardian
Reed Brody, le « chasseur de dictateurs » qui a conduit Hissène Habré devant ses juges
Les éleveurs rejettent l'invitation de Stéphane Le Foll
Vieilles Charrues : une 24e édition «merveilleuse»

Midnight Hits 20 July