tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post8072933052083939896..comments2023-06-14T06:17:27.052-05:00Comments on Brand of Make Believe: Nightmare For SawyersAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-23673248287844031202009-10-10T17:01:16.492-05:002009-10-10T17:01:16.492-05:00Harlequin,
Thanks for visiting, and reading. Rig...Harlequin,<br /><br />Thanks for visiting, and reading. Right back attcha, with you appreciations, I love your blog. And your lifeswork. So important to people like me who's family faces all the issues, and difficulties of autism. Thanks for your wonderful writings, and your style. Rather witty, some of the ways you put things.<br />Yes, our world makes science fiction seem like a one dimensional no trick pony. So many things about the world are simply baffling. Occasionally I'm imagine in my mind a cubic meter of ocean water at some random spot, and all the movement, life, sound, and silence in that square of saline. Stuffs going on there, but what? It matters, to some degree, and it boggles my mind. <br />It's wonderful to see your name on my blogs, Harlequin. Thank you.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-39373208659041209132009-10-09T23:26:56.994-05:002009-10-09T23:26:56.994-05:00my first visit here; most enjoyable. What a deligh...my first visit here; most enjoyable. What a delightful notion --- how so much of experience is speaking to me and I am available for it... <br />and I find this so confirming of how I exist in the world...<br />nice work, here.Harlequinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04964772119118368322noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-49489613305599202982009-10-09T19:46:54.868-05:002009-10-09T19:46:54.868-05:00Wine and Words,
Sorry to spell so eloquently some...Wine and Words,<br /><br />Sorry to spell so eloquently something you already knew. (Crap! oh, yes, I cuss a great deal.) But come on, the Book Of Life is one I love as well.<br />My Mother and Father, Atheists, gave me the Bible at seventeen. What I always loved about that Book was that it spoke for you, and me. <br />You are kind, and don't protest too much my puerile nature. Give me Hell. It's on it's way... anyhow.<br />You look, in your picture with your Mother like a happy version of a woman I most admire. What a lovely gift for me.<br />Thank you, Wine and Words.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-51537263427046710122009-10-09T19:23:40.070-05:002009-10-09T19:23:40.070-05:00"They have between them the crushed remnants ..."They have between them the crushed remnants of a history that made you, and I, possible.<br />Their emotion is as real, as the Matterhorn will be rubble." Crap! This is brilliant. Sorry, but I must copy, paste a print, press page into Bible like a prom flower.Wine and Wordshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06778785233226804217noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-1539722099878395862009-10-09T17:59:00.129-05:002009-10-09T17:59:00.129-05:00Wine and Words,
Your faith as always is as exotic...Wine and Words,<br /><br />Your faith as always is as exotic and delicious to me as any Hindu, Buddhist, or Muslim. The world cries out to all of us, and the Bible told us so. Of course the rocks cry out. They have between them the crushed remnants of a history that made you, and I, possible.<br />Their emotion is as real, as the Matterhorn will be rubble. They have want of something more than to merely become (once mountains!) river stones to keep the ocean, or levy, at bay. So as to save us: we momentary flashes of light, in geological time.<br />Darwin was a Geologist for a reason.<br />I love to see you here.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-6651074132334722722009-10-09T17:53:47.238-05:002009-10-09T17:53:47.238-05:00Anon Andon,
Whoops. I should mention that, Hell ...Anon Andon,<br /><br />Whoops. I should mention that, Hell Yes, I make a sound, the same sound I ask for in a lover, when I encounter a tree. Thats why Republicans so revile me.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-21073734238616613642009-10-09T17:51:36.346-05:002009-10-09T17:51:36.346-05:00Anon Andon,
Clever commentary, and kind words.
...Anon Andon,<br /><br />Clever commentary, and kind words. <br />I wrote this post two years ago, before I read "Shop Class As Soulcraft" which had some impact on my desire to learn more about our bifurcation of the "nervous" and the "physical." I could go on.<br />These have the privilege of being both Physical and Quantum Mechanical problems, as very little can be presumed to be understood about our lithe human bodies moving through this world.<br />Mysteries can overwhelm and answers can beckon, but like the Valkarie, their are dangers in simply giving over to your first impression.<br />Much more on all of this, deep in my blog. I'm nearing a year long retrospective of my posts. A selfish act, that I hope leads others to some fun things I have written. And I mean fun.<br />America has come out of a period, which Canadians, I hope, have had as much fun laughing at, as we liberals and leftists have had suffering. So suffice it to say, that, in Indiana, when a Carpenter sees a tree in a forest, it is oftentimes wood. Yes. But I can't help but believe that even the most fervent homeowner on a subdivision in the suburbs devoid of trees doesn't feel a strange tickle in her mind: "what's happened to the playful world that my simian ancestors so enjoyed?" Where brick meets grass, The Pattern Language is certainly gone. And so too is our recognition of the voices that sing where too often the modern finds a vacuum.<br />Thank you, Anon Andon, for your comment. I will read your entire blog.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-1656796431983739842009-10-09T17:33:24.000-05:002009-10-09T17:33:24.000-05:00Jukka,
We are the same age, and when I first read...Jukka,<br /><br />We are the same age, and when I first read your blog I thought it was by a man a decade or so older. Droll sentiments age our words, as wine... but you are, like me, still young enough to not feel old (most of the time.)<br />Jenny and Ande are an inspiration to me. Period. Their natural focus, and kindness of spirit: their hunger, are something found nowhere "naturally." Our world works so hard to convince of of the scarcity of everything. It's no wonder everyone dives. On occasion they would be forced to see beauty, not really meant for their selfish eyes. So what, then, of their central place in the universe.<br />Copernicus died, but his burden is timeless.<br />Just as I should be jealous that you might know Jenny and Ande in the flesh, I can assure you that any jealousy regarding my having knowm Neil, for eleven years now, is probably understandable. As great a poet he is, he's an even more lovely man. And a challenge. A mysterious cat, unpredictable. But he and I seem willing to simply regard the gulf that lie between us as a vacuum of meaning, where birds might soar and be smiled upon.<br />Yeah, Neil can write about, and live with a more or less elastic spirit, in the dark. There are lessons there: on the "black" board.<br />The two constants in the life of Man must have been evolution, and culture. Perhaps evolution favored sobriety (not so much for me) and perhaps culture favors that as well. I can't help but think that whimsy and desire live despite both evolution and culture. Like the picture you have as your "portrait" by which I should see you. A beautiful picture of a man who was willing to sacrifice, whatever, for his slim moments of beauty. Less ambitious souls like myself find beauty in more pedestrian realms: literally. I have snorkeled, but never dived. Perhaps that will change. It is the confusion of the young to embrace possibilities that the cold vacuum of space laughs at. But Spaces' laughter, might just be the Aurora Borealis. Who's to say? Beauty... even the broken homeless marginal people that are sometimes my acquaintance or friend, want to tell me of beauty. <br />Hopefully, Jukka, I know better, then not to listen.<br />Even the Rats in my yard love my tomatoes.<br />Not much of our talk is ever recognized (regurgitated, by the mind) in conversation. We talk from primarily an emotional place: it takes effort, as you have taken for me, to think about, and reflect upon how to love a stranger: that we might be loved. And see in the mirror a person who loves.<br />Thanks Jukka.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15840330115866846549noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-84877295524266025342009-10-09T14:49:16.615-05:002009-10-09T14:49:16.615-05:00Intellectual Obesity? If there is such a thing...I...Intellectual Obesity? If there is such a thing...I think I just got fat.<br /><br />I believe the universe communicates. The Bible says it tells of creation, and that if humans don't worship, then the rocks will cry out.<br /><br />Isa 55:12 "For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap [their] hands."<br /><br />Wouldn't you freak out if you heard that in the meadow?Wine and Wordshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06778785233226804217noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-44043457467322673142009-10-09T14:16:52.166-05:002009-10-09T14:16:52.166-05:00Well pondered, Andy. I look forward to reading mor...Well pondered, Andy. I look forward to reading more about the connections between hands and wood, body and form, language and meaning.<br /><br />I wonder when a carpenter sees a tree in the forest for the first time, does s/he make a noise? :/aporiahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02347120207294058788noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548010454583144284.post-66089560552884500622009-10-09T12:41:51.948-05:002009-10-09T12:41:51.948-05:00Thank you for finding my blog likable. I really li...Thank you for finding my blog likable. I really like yours too. Jenny introduced me to blogging, and it's quite fun. Sharing thoughts. It's an honor to communicate with you and all this interesting people. I saw that another fine poet was your friend. Neil. He is a hell of a poet, that guy. And not afraid of writing about darkness. I like people who is not afraid of writing abut darkness. <br /><br />Very interesting observations. You see things in so many angels. Seeing is believing, I guess. Evolution probably favored sober people which didn't think too much about the beauty of the whole thing; they got eaten up or something. I have always loved those who are able to pass into the mediate state of seeing instead of merely analyzing. There is too much analyzing going on, I think. I have always tried to "talk" to the ecosystem (never under water, however). Your notion of subconscious speech is interesting. I thought about that for a while. Not much of what we say to other human beings (or hogs and dogs) is meant to express something, if I get you right.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com