whistlestopursus

http://www.chaunceybaileyproject.org/
http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/killing/wolf.html
http://cpj.org/killed/2000/james-edwin-richards.php





Virginia, your little friends are right. They have not succumbed to the mysticism of a mystical age. They refuse to believe anything which contradicts what they know, and they know that reindeer can't fly and that one man could not deliver toys to all the world's children in a lifetime, let alone one night.

When your friends reason like this, it demonstrates that the human mind is grand, and that in this great universe of ours man is a giant, a genius. Only man, of all the life we know, can conceptually grasp the magnificent world about him, the whole of truth and knowledge.

No, Virginia, there is no Santa Clause. Santa is a make-believe character, created for children like you in a spirit of love, generosity and devotion. He is a product of the uniquely human power of reason.

One of the ways we use this power is to have fun rearranging the things we know into things we know cannot be. But the true beauty of this power is that it alone, and not faith, is the light which fills the world with toys, candy, books, houses, clothes, schools, medicine, love and all of the values that make life joyous and fulfilling. So if you renounce reason in favor of faith, you renounce all those wonderful things.

Believe in Santa Clause? You might as well believe in fairies! To do either you must give up reason, and with it your ability to distinguish what is real from what isn't.

This ability is your most important asset; your life and happiness depend on it. When you understand this you will know why you should shun anyone who tells you that the less evidence there is for something, the “more true” it is.

Santa Claus lives in imagination only, and for as long as he does he will make glad the heart of childhood. For a thousand, nay, 10 times 10,000 years from now, he may survive as a wonderful fantasy, unless man, using his faculty of reason, thinks up a better one.

Bobby Sandler
San Anselmo
John Sandler
San Rafel

http://www.chaunceybaileyproject.org/
http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/killing/wolf.html
http://cpj.org/killed/2000/james-edwin-richards.php



Well we are big rock singers, we've got golden fingers
And we're loved everywhere we go
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth
At ten thousand dollars a show
We take all kind of pills to give us all kind of thrills
But the thrill we've never known
Is the thrill that'll get you when you get your picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

/ A - / - E / - - / E7 A / - - / - D / E - / A - /

{Refrain}
Rolling Stone
Wanna see my picture on the cover
Rolling Stone
Wanna buy five copies for my mother
Rolling Stone
Wanna see my smilin' face
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

/ E - / A - / E - / D A /

I've got a freaky old lady name o' Cocaine Katy
Who embroiders on my jeans
I've got my poor old gray-haired Daddy
Drivin' my limousine
Now it's all designed to blow our minds
But our minds won't really be blown
Like the blow that'll get you when you get your picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

{Refrain}

We got a lot of little teenage blue-eyed groupies
Who do anything we say
We got a genuine Indian guru
He's teachin' us a better way
We got all the friends that money can buy
So we never have to be alone
And we keep gettin' richer but we can't get our picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

http://www.chaunceybaileyproject.org/
http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/killing/wolf.html
http://cpj.org/killed/2000/james-edwin-richards.php


From page 70:

Now the Green-elves of Ossiriand were troubled by the coming of Men, and when they heard that a lord of the Eldar fromover the Sea was among them they sent messengers to Felagund. ‘Lord,’ they said, ‘if you have power over these newcomers, bid them return by the ways that they came, or else to go forward. For we desire no strangers in this land to break the peace in which we live. And these folk are hewers of trees and hunters of beasts; therefore we are their unfriends, and if they will not depart we shall afflict them in all ways that we can.’ …

Soon after the departure of Felagund the other Men of whom Bëor had spoken came also into Beleriand. First came the Haladin; but meeting the unfriendship of the Green-elves they turned north and dwelt in Thargelion, in the country of Caranthir son of Fëanor; there for a time they had peace, and the people of Caranthir paid little heed to them.
The Simarillion
J.R.R. Tolkien

Seasons
Music by elton john
Lyrics by bernie taupin
Available on the soundtrack friends

For our world, the circle turns again
Throughout the year we've seen the seasons change
It's meant a lot to me to start anew
Oh the winter's cold but I'm so warm with you

Out there there's not a sound to be heard
And the seasons seem to sleep upon their words
As the waters freeze up with the summer's end

Oh it's funny how young lovers start as friends
Yes it's funny how young lovers start as friends

http://www.chaunceybaileyproject.org/
http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/killing/wolf.html
The Hunt
The Twilight Zone
CBS.com
Free and legal

They always come up with their arguments for fashion.
I always wondered why I let them talk me out of myself.
I don't get haircuts anymore.


Ya see, to shave is to relieve the itching. So is bathing. Clothes come in handy in a number of ways but is there a reason cut hair?
I suppose.
Compulsory hair shortening for the conformity of it imposes delusions of control while dominance sucks the life from interaction. We become empty action.

Redwoods... Every day that even one small shoot of one exists subsumes the gnarl of humanity to mortality. The death of them is ruinous and untimely.

My hair is my Tardis.

Tardis, n.

Brit. /"tA;dIs/, U.S. /"tArd@s/ Also with lower-case initial. [< TARDIS (acronym < Time And Relative Dimensions In Space), the name in the science-fiction BBC television series Doctor Who (first broadcast in 1963) of a time machine outwardly resembling a police telephone box, yet inwardly much larger.]

In allusive use. Something resembling or likened to Doctor Who's TARDIS; spec.: (a) a thing which has a larger capacity than its outward appearance suggests; a building, etc., that is larger on the inside than it appears from the outside; (b) a thing seemingly from another time (past or future).

"[1969 Times 29 Mar. 22/3 His best poems are like Doctor Who's Tardis, the solid streetcorner policebox, which actually contains a sidereal spaceship.]" "1985 Christian Sci. Monitor 30 Apr. 35 It's+a tardis of a poem, unassuming, but renewing, roomy, opportune." "1988 New Musical Express 24 Dec. 33 The shiny streamlined tardis of Kraftwerk." "1990 Pink Paper 4 Aug. 12/4 This is the perception that comes from the Tardis that seems to be New Scotland Yard, timewarped in the nineteen-sixties." "1996 Time Out 17 Jan. 41/3 One of the conveniences of having a Tardis for a stomach is that you can order loads of main courses." "1999 J. Preece Good Beer Guide 111/2 A Tardis of a pub—the small frontage conceals a long pub, half serving as a restaurant (a good vegetarian selection)."

1999
1996
1990
1988
1985
[1969]



"Tardis-like adv. and a.

"1986 Times 4 Dec. 15/6 *Tardis-like, the inner dimensions are at odds with the outer." "1987 Marketing (Nexis) 22 Oct., The famous trading floor with its Tardis-like hexagonal boxes has already gone." "2000 P. McCarthy McCarthy's Bar viii. 151 Small family homes that, Tardis-like, have miraculously created the space to accommodate big-boned American families." "2001 Press (Christchurch, N.Z.) (Nexis) 27 June 55 Only Mercedes-Benz's Tardis-like A-class comes within cooee of the Echo's space utilisation."







“A man will walk into Hell with both eyes open, but even the Devil can’t fool a dog.”
Earl Hamner


O bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree.
For it stood on your shore for many's the long day
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand.
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before,
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

All the birds in the forest, they bitterly weep
Sighing, "Where shall we shelter, where shall we sleep?"
For the Oak and the Ash tree are all cutten down,
And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand.
And the more I think on you the more I think long
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords of Old England would not purchase Portmore.

Loreena Mckennit is superlative at this. I think the lyrics' author is unknown.

http://www.chaunceybaileyproject.org/


(Dickie Peterson)
Relax your mind
Lord let it take
An electric explosion
I said a strong earthquake
And then on a freeway
Just let it take you away, child
Far away
Oh yeah, come over
Come back in my big automobile
And Babylon.


I'll give you a shove
Why don't you take a rush
Let me hear you cry
From a deafening hush
Just let it take you away
Far Away
Yeah, yow, come over, big automobile, big automobile
Babylon.


Now the blues ain't nothing
But a good man feeling bad
Yeh-yeh, Yeah!
I know that the blues ain't nothing, ain't nothing baby
But a, but a good man, but a good man, but a good man feeling bad
And I just ain't the kind
That goes around feeling sad
Hey! Oh, no, not me baby, no way!


Say why don't you take a shove
Oh, come on and take a rush
Let me hear you cry
From a deafening hush
Let it take you away
Far away
Oh yeah, stick it in the fire baby
I want big automobile
Big automobile, baby
Babylon.


OW!