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By: yesisedit,
on 10/17/2014
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What’s on my mind?
Indigenous peoples and their worry about being over run by other populations I guess could sum it up.
I suppose if cougars, wolves, elephants and such learned to shoot guns or band together better they would kick out the human populations who have transgressed on their land but as people go I believe we need to understand the reason for others unlawfully entering areas already overpopulated.
Overpopulation where they come from, economic despair, greed, the making of money into a God and the lust for power over others seem to be good places to start .
Seems to me that as people from a planet with finite resources we need to try to make all places a good place to live so people want to stay where they are. Make everywhere a good place to be.
Sharing with others does not have to mean give away my happiness but it could mean helping you gain yours. I hope I can do that with more than one other and if we all did it for just two other people it would cure the problem in my mind at least.
By: yesisedit,
on 5/2/2014
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A quite lively discussion has blown in from space on a friends Face-postcard about something I forgot because it went a completely different way in short order and is now a history lesson on indigenous peoples.
It was said the “Native “”American”” people” were here first and that they claim to be “Indigenous” and that they have their traditional stories to back up their claim to properties etc.
That got me to thinking (usually leads to minor disasters) that just because someone in your past lived some place and told creation stories doesn’t always mean you have any more rights than the guy who was born there after you lost the battle, in my case way after.
I know, growing up, my mother used to tell me, when I asked how I got here that I came from heaven and perhaps, if I’m a good boy, God will give me land there again though I think he may balk at the casino I want to build even if it is to take all the sinner’s money or credits or what ever the currency of his realm is.
And further more if in the past there was only one super continent, Pangaea or what ever they really called it, then we all have a claim to everywhere cause we are all descendants of the original inhabitants and I’ll bet a dollar to a doughnut there aint anywho who can tell me where they thought they came from even after the break up.
I thought perhaps we are all from Mars via the Pleiades star system but had to leave cause the Marshonians wanted the place back so we moved on as they had come from the Hercules system to Mars first.
To send every one back to where they came from is stupid, you can’t fit that many people on Ellis Island let alone grow enough hemp there to have a trade economy with New York.
I don’t know the answer other than if we don’t start being natives from “EARTH” the little grey men will boot us out and wipe out the myths of our origins from then to eternity.
It’s a race none us may win …
By: yesisedit,
on 5/21/2012
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By: yesisedit,
on 3/17/2012
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With apologies to my ancestors, My interpretation of Skibbereen and post script.
They say it tis a lovely place, where in a saint might dwell,
so why did you abandon it father dear, the reason to me tell?
Oh son I loved my native land, with energy and much pride
‘Til a blight came over on my prats, my sheep and cattle died,
The rent and taxes were so high, I could not them redeem,
And that’s the true cruel reason why, I left dear old Skibbereen.
Oh, It’s sure I do remember, that bleak December day,
The landlord and the sheriff came, to drive us all away
They set my roof afire, with their cursed yellow english spleen
And that’s another reason why, I left dear old Skibbereen.
Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on that snowy ground,
She fainted in her anguish, seeing the desolation laid all round.
She never rose, but passed away, from life to imortal dream,
She found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.
And you were only a wee young lad, and feeble was your frame,
I could not leave you with your friends, for you bore your father’s name,
I wrapped you in my overcoat , in the dead of night unseen
I heaved a sigh, and said goodbye, to dear old Skibbereen
o’ father dear, the day will come, when answer to the call
all Irish men of Freedom Stern, will rally one and all
ill be the man to lead the band, beneath the flag of green
loud and clear, well raise a cheer , remember Skibbereen
PS on St. Patrick’s day
The plight of the Irish immigrants who flooded the world in the time of potato famine
was caused as much by greed and prejudice as any lack of simple peasant food.
The poor Irish were driven from land by invaders, monetary greed, by taxes and starvation,
demonized like any culture the powerful wish to wash away so they may consolidate their power.
If scattered, the poor could not rise up, if not fed they would parish and be no threat.
Drunkenness is not the legacy my father gave to me, pride in my name and ancestory
of a race that will never give up or in until death takes me kicking to what lays beyond.
That is what my Father sang to me as his Father did to him.
John Murphy
By: yesisedit,
on 2/26/2012
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One of the, if not The, deepest questions of the universe.
You have to start with what you believe is the force that is the creator of this life I believe.
Some think of GOD as a human type creature in who’s image we are created, with long flowing hair, robes to make him modest though he needs to hide nothing from his creations as I see it, and a celestial kingdom where he, or she in some cases, sits reining judgement down upon the works he designed and gave free will to.
I can not see that which created me in such limited form. I can not even envelope the concept of never ending or forever just because I am temporary in this form at least. I do however believe I was created from and by the “GOD” that has no limits and this is exactly why I think I am made in it’s likeness, BUT not in it’s totality, there are things missing if I am separate FROM God, God did not make me GOD, God, or even god, GOD made me human, GOD made everything else what it is too I believe but I think, like one atom in my body or even smaller than that, to infinity small, that part is still a part of GOD though never “GOD”, only a part, that the smallest part of me is still me, I am made in the likeness of and from GOD, I am alive, that smallest part of me is alive, GOD must also be alive if we are all part of everlasting life.
Conclusion; Life never begins, it is never ended, It IS!
Consciousness in itself does not prove to me that I am not alive.
The fact that when sperm and egg combine and the DNA messages combine to spark cell multiplication (The spark of life if you will) and a plan is put into affect to form a body which will make a human or any other living thing would seem to be life to me.
BUT it was life even before that! The EGG and the SPERM were also alive, donated by the life forms of at least two separate beings, who were made in the image of GOD, who is also alive.
GOD talks to all of us in GOD’s own way. Some hear “Him” like “He” was talking in their language and sitting having tea I suppose. Others see the “Great Spirit” manifest as all that surrounds us and all that can not be seen or even heard but that still is. I am more from that camp I suppose but still believe all is possible.
The right to life for me is hard to conceive when I believe that life is never ending. The right to life is not for me to tell you, you may or may not have though if you threaten my life I will not hesitate to use what ever is at my disposal to protect mine and stop yours!
The question to me is more the quality of the life you give rather than just letting all life happen. If all in creation is from GOD then even the worst of it is sacred and the Jaines may be correct and may have more in line with current Christian values than most think. But if we do not take into account what we offer, if a human is brought into this world through violent action that threatens the life that brings it who is the killer here? The mother who was raped or is too young and will surely die from the birth or the entity being born who would kill it’s mother, most assuredly it would be the rapist but can we take his life either? I would say it is not my place to judge any of these unless they are me. I WILL FIGHT FOR MY LIFE! But a Mother must make the call of giving herself for another in my view. It may seem selfish or unjust but it must be hers with as much help and support from all sides as she can get. Advise and support but not Judgement and in the end her decision as final carrier of that which will always be alive to enter into this world.
If you believe in eternal life you will not be sad for the soul who returns to it’s maker but wish it return another time
By: yesisedit,
on 12/9/2011
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By: yesisedit,
on 12/5/2011
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By: yesisedit,
on 11/22/2011
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If you’ve missed this report in the news feeds, here it is. It seems that the powers that be are contemplating a complete closure of the postal system. Yes, folks, the USPS is under scrutiny for more than paltry stamps.
The projected deficit for the agency for 2011 is between $9-11 Billion. Somehow, I don’t think adding another two cents to the cost of a stamp is going to offset that figure. Use of snail mail is down significantly with the increasing use of FAX and the internet. More businesses are doing business online. One of the few props to the system now is bulk mail (better known as JUNK MAIL.) And we all just love getting junk mail, don’t we?
Hundreds of little postal stations have already been put on the chopping block, leaving tiny communities across the country without a nearby Post Office. Many larger stations have gone to a reduced number of delivery days to defray costs.
The reports of the past few months about the state of the USPS have left me with a question or two of my own. If you’ve been around this blog often, you already knew there were questions coming, didn’t you? This time, though, the questions are strictly for the publishing industry/
Let’s assume for the sake of argument that the USPS does, indeed, end operations. Where does that leave today’s publishing industry?
Many publishers, both for magazines and books, do not accept electronic submissions, and I can understand that. On the publisher’s side there is the cost of downloading a book manuscript to hard copy, sent by a writer that isn’t already on the payroll. That slush pile will get awfully slim. The publisher will have decide whether getting potential blockbusters from an electronic slush pile outweighs the cost of making hard copies.
Granted, many of those same publishers have already begun using electronic ARCs for reviewers to their new releases as a way to make the bottom line healthier. As a part-time reviewer, I see both sides of the equation on this decision. I love having the “real” book in my hands when I read. At the same time, I don’t have to wait for the delivery of my copy of a book to get out a quicker review. The ARC becomes available immediately; I download, and begin reading that same day. I even get notices when to look over the entrees for choice.
Many authors have received electronic contracts for a few years now. Email and faxing have made this practice painless and cost-effective for both parties.
Magazine publishers may have a much harder decision to make than mere slush piles, however. While many print magazines accept only electronic submissions, others continue with only postal submissions or they accept both. Without the USPS those magazines that prefer hardcopy will find none in the mailbox. They will either have
By: yesisedit,
on 1/17/2011
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Tired of politics as usual? …
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Want a representative who is loyal and will obey your wishes ? …
Want truth in what he thinks about current representation ? …
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Wyatt T. Dawg uses common since to get things done
and knows a crook when he smells one.
Make him your choice for any position and you will feel you have done yourself justice.
He will let your opinion be known in the halls and in the country,
anywhere he feels there is something to be said.
His family has gone to war, protected us at home and in police duties.
His party will be a friend who watches out for you!
Vote for Wyatt T. Dawg !!!
This add Not paid for by anyone ! But supported by the “Loyal Dawgs” party
By: yesisedit,
on 11/29/2010
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I know some people, not to mention names, who are like old teasel.
They grumble and rumble and sometimes grumble about their rumble.
At times their age shows in the form of sharp barbs and spotted faces.
But I would not trade them for any other because you see they are still beautiful to me.
They are still like that quick young person I knew when they get sassy and say things that others may fear to say.
But now they don’t whisper it and come right out loud and say it to my face.
When they put on a new hat they are still handsome, though in a more dignified way even if some of them don’t pick the best look, they never did then either.
Yup! they may be old and slow and have weaker eyes to see all my imperfections with but I still got um and maybe my barbs are showing a bit more too.
I think all those young and brash weeds I knew may not be young in the eyes of the world but I still see them fresh and green with high hopes.
I try to listen more to what they have to say too because the older I get the more there is to know.
Young weeds tell me what they think is right, and where they think I should go and how I should go because they read it in a book but old thistles tell me from experience what’s really in store for me because they wrote the book.
By: yesisedit,
on 6/17/2010
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By: yesisedit,
on 6/8/2010
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As we are busy blaming “BP” for messing up the Gulf of mexico I would suggest a solution for oil barriers along the beautiful beaches there and in fact all along our coastlines. First I will direct you to search floating “debris in the gulf of Mexico”.
There are enough objects floating there that if gathered and strung along the beaches could cover all the coastlines of our country I believe. It is floating so we would not have to buy new floating barriers, all we need is nets, which could be made from shredding more of the junk out in the ocean. “BP” didn’t put it there, it came from the cities along the waterways that feed into the gulf.
Though much of it is oil byproducts washed out from storm drains, a lot came from the “Beautiful” beaches and those “Valuable tourists” that are so afraid of getting a tar ball on their tootsies visited and left behind. They should come back and volunteer to help clean it if they really care!
I also propose instead of dredging sand that will destroy animal habitat we build berms of the garbage that came from those beaches in the first place. It may be ugly, to say the least, but it would do more for the fish and birds in the region that get trapped in it than any other thing I can think of, just cover it with a small portion of sand from the tourist beaches.
The wild life doesn’t want it and it’s only fare that the people that made it take it back and recycle it or something. They need to pay for every bit of the pollution just like “BP”, all of us who let that junk float out to sea should pay for it to be cleaned up!
If an honest look at what is in the ocean was taken “BP” would look like small potatoes or in this case oil byproduct pollution.
By: yesisedit,
on 1/17/2010
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The old tale of Tortoise and Hare tells that falling asleep while doing a task is bad.
Jack the rabbit read it well, thought to himself, “the light this sheds is sad !”
No member of my global community is so lax, I’ll get that title back !
To that end he checked out the local Tortoise, Goggling on his computer for every fact.
He bought goggles and bomber cap from a site on the internet .
And while he was at it, found some sites and placed a few side bets.
The odds were good, in the turtles favor.
The money Jack knew he would soon savor !
Come race day the a crowd came out and the sun did shine.
The Tortoise was ready and Jackrabbit looked quite fine !
The race got started with a flurry and flash.
The rabbit was off like a shot but Tortoise got hung up in desert trash.
Jack was far out in front and in sight of the finish line .
But Coyote spied the race, thinking Tortoise and Hare would taste just fine.
Coyote joined in the race with turtle the first one he caught just rounding the bend.
Tortoise pulled up shy in his shell and, though Coyote knocked, would not let him come in.
So off Coyote sped to catch his other pray but Jack saw him coming and did not want to be Din Din.
As things often go the race was a bust and no body won.
Jack was diligent and did not sleep, so lived to have another son.
Tortoise, though he was slow, lived long and finally came out.
But Tortoise forgot what the race was about.
So when you hear another famous fable.
Just finish your spinach and clean up the crumbs before you leave the table.
So you may live long like Tortoise and Hare,
Though like Tortoise your mind may not be there.
And fast is good when you are fast as a bunny so you may outrun the danger.
Like Jackrabbit, you may have to change your course when chased by a stranger.
By: yesisedit,
on 1/14/2010
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First … I think it is imperative we help the peoples of Haiti, no ifs ands or buts !!!
Secondly however … I think the people of Haiti need some major educational efforts along with a way to make a living and not from tourism !!!
Food is basic to stability in any society. When the populace eats enough that they have a little time to put forth extra efforts they usually come up with good Ideas to keep growing. If hunger keeps them on a constant search to fill bellies with no education on productive farming practices you get things like denuded hillsides, eroded ground, poor soil stability and ever poorer quality of land that eats away at itself in an ever spiraling downward cycle until the populace is always in flux and no political system can last, giving way to warlords and crime in general.
The earthquake in Haiti can be a positive thing if more than money is poured in just so people feel good about helping. It must be made to work for the common good of all these people as in ways to create potable water in a manner that is sustainable by relatively low levels of education. Agricultural practices that lead not to large commercial Agra-business but small plot farming. Micro investment so the populace can make extra money or even sustain a family and rebound even with natural disasters that seem to hit this part of the world .
Education more than just primary, though that seems to be badly needed as well, where the region can have native knowledge that will grow to help itself with forethought to that which is possible for building society and structures that will be safe. The populace needs to be put to work in the reconstruction efforts, not companies brought in from somewhere else, so cultural elements will be understood. At first this may need to be overseen by outside help (show them how to build , don’t build it for them) but only until educated native elements can be found or educated to take over and NO LONGER!
A government that is of the peoples choice, even if we do not like it, should be supported and worked with to stabilize it in a world culture as legitimately wanted and promote aid in ways that do not force political agendas but aim at the well being of common citizens. Care should be taken that the help does not end up in the pockets of a few elite .
We and they will be all the better for this kind of help and some day we may indeed be helped by them in return.
By: yesisedit,
on 1/13/2010
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Lucky is as lucky does but no rabbit he !
Lucky sees future things that wishes do not fulfill and makes them happen just because …
He knows the rabbit was not so lucky that gave a foot so that you might be …
Hamster ways like hamster days are short stepped and burrowed with mini paws …
But believe or don’t, the magic carried in his Shillelagh, makes no difference to him …
Shillelagh or no, making things happen is Lucky’s way …
Fury lil ball-o-fat forever treading mill is not his whim …
For every time a C notes found forget the leprechaun, it’s Lucky’s day !
By: yesisedit,
on 1/11/2010
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Few rewards are as fun as taking that first spin in you own car.
In my case it started out pretty quick to be “First series Chevy” trucks and through the years I have had seven that ran and this one will be my last I think.
Not because I wouldn’t want a thousand more but gas and the the roar of engines with a smell of burnt petroleum smokin from the tires is almost past to the status of legends.
Carburetors are tossed for EFI 350 V8 blocks or some such but give me that old stove bolt 6 that sounds like a well oiled sewing machine any day.
Gas that once was cheap even for a $0.75 an hour kid is hard to justify but I will until the dinosaurs give up the last drop I can afford just to feel the freedom of wind blowing through the cowl vent, windows down even in mid winter, the purr of early iron and finicky gauges bopping with the bumps and Mr. Butterfield’s ”East West” drifting with the breeze around my head from cheap speakers and a shared drink stashed between me and my girl.
There are few finer feelings than nowhere particular to go, all day to get there in no particular hurry.
Keep um rollin!
By: yesisedit,
on 12/29/2009
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“I was there once” I said to myself and wondered who said that.
“I know there are deer just beyond those trees” I can smell them, it’s old hat.
I hear words like “no” and I know there is something I shouldn’t do but why, I do not know.
They smell delicious, I would share and the chase would be a wonderful thing so let’s go.
He is telling me something that sounds like I will regret it but I know I won’t.
There they are just a short sprint over easy ground but here it is again “Don’t!”
I like him even if he is a pill! Why he even roasts perfectly wondrous raw kill.
Oh now I’m going no matter what it is he’s trying to say.
Look at them all dancing with excitement, what wonderful prey!
I could run forever mile after mile but I’ll go back and let him see my happy smile.
Hey what’s this ? no “atta boy” or “good boy you” ?
I will never understand that attitude after such a wonderful chase, where they all almost flew!
OH I see … I didn’t catch one to bring back with me.
Next time I’ll not ask, just go and bring back a present then perhaps he’ll be much more pleasant.
By: yesisedit,
on 12/20/2009
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“Well I was wet, your side of the truck was dry,
I like dry,
that side didn’t have your name on it,
so I am a bad boy…
it’s Christmas … go tell Santa or get over it !
Sheesh Murph !!!”
By: yesisedit,
on 12/18/2009
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He was young and idealistic but RANDOLPH
thought there would be no discrimination just
because he was a Black tail and not a Rein deer.
Unfortunately he had not counted on local
animosity of the more famous deer who worked there
and was found crossing the north pole border unlawfully.
It was said he must have lost his way or gone back home
and no further investigation was launched though many years later
rumors surfaced that he was spotted in Santa’s barbershop relaxing.
This could not be confirmed though because of the
security worries about lists compiled on humans stored there.
The tapes of all comments were lost some how by accidental erasure.
By Polar News Service …
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I am innocent I tells ya, It’s society made me do it.
Why sure that was my hand in your pocket but you never said I couldn’t do it.
If I’d heard even one moan I would have stopped and shot again but through the gurgles I never heard a tone.
The clergy said it was ok not to tell the truth on a need to know basis so I told you my name was Ruth.
Why just one twitch and I’d have started praying instead of preying, Honest, I say this without a hitch.
Had I known you didn’t want me to pull that trigger in the first place you wouldn’t have shown me your wallet was so much bigger.
My mother played a part for never spanking me ya know and my father said nothing, he wasn’t there, he had to go.
My teachers were all handcuffed by my lawyers, I would have sued them so, there’s profit in nonprofit don’t you know.
They never stopped me for speeding enough times and that warped my mind to have so many chances to cross the lines.
Drunk and murderous they once called it but had no more room in the mental ward so let me go which means I am cured now don’t you know.
No one cared as long as I was not knocking at their door so it is ok to do it if I do it to the poor.
The priest he said it was OK, that I should never tell. He had to go to another place but not to fear, he’d teach them there as well.
I am sorry Mr. John Doe, I was always on your side but you had too many golf clubs and such a pretty bride.
I was looking through your wallet and found a child or two, why didn’t you wear that wedding ring, I could have had that too.
The Army tried to do me right, maybe best of all but society had already messed me up so they sent me down the hall.
My brothers were all coming back it seems but had no place to go, the economy already took their jobs, left them with their nightmare dreams.
They sent the bad guy money makers, most of them, to jail. I mixed in quite well though I got a stiffer sentence while they all got to sail.
The judges were all concerned, it was so sad but their hands were tied, had it been up to them I may have surely died.
But society has set the course on which they then must follow, with hopes of course in a supreme seat they may also wallow.
And what about your cutting police and pay so a budget minded civic leader could get another raise, for that you win my praise!
He wasn’t here to see or even near to help me hear your plea.
So for your last gasp Mr. councilman it should be to thank yourself if you will, it was society did it to you, it wasn’t me!
By: yesisedit,
on 11/27/2009
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I can’t help but to keep thinking of all the religious strife that covers this planet all in the name of the all mighty.
I wonder how anything in this little place can be of any more significance
to that which is everything.
If one proton of one atom in my body has a billion solar systems in it’s being and one place there less than a speck of sand has beings living on it and they are made up of the same thing as I or I am made up of it because the speck and the me are one thing, inseparable except by my casting it out but I am all things so when I cast it out there is no place but back in to me it must go to be mixed again in an ever-changing, roiling mass of energy as known by me but which is unknowable to the speck. The total is me yet the speck is me.
I do not want to kill myself, I only want to let the speck change to my benefit. My purpose is only to be and the only battle should be against that opposite, not to be.
Perhaps Shakey Spear had it more right than is given credit except to be or not to be is not the question, it is the answer.
By: yesisedit,
on 10/27/2009
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Even if you are a speck of dust in the deepest, darkest reaches of space and time …
Even if no light shines form any knowable sun and all the points of light are so far away the universe looks like one dimly lit speck barely noticeable in a vast sea of blackness …
Even if the distance to anything like you is so far that time itself does not exist and seems void…You are not the forgotten edge of nothing …
But the leading edge of everything …
! …
By: yesisedit,
on 10/27/2009
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By: yesisedit,
on 10/5/2009
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Your poem touched me. My ancestors were Scottish, not Irish, but they shared much the same fate when leaving the old world for the new. Thank goodness for America where our peoples have flourished.