The Left Column
Politics for Poets
aApril
how do I even know if anyone even sees these pages? I suppose that's why I stopped updating them
April 17, 2023 8:28 PM EST
And did he ever even get to that part about 'helmet safety' and that the guy in the photo wasn't wearing one?
Oh, no, yet another topic for the echo factory to pretend that people care about and repeat over and over.
this is a lot more fun than wading in through the chan spam.
🚙🚙🚙🚙🚙
Onward into the storied evening!
Love
People!
🖐morning
clover🖐
these can get you banned from school?!: 🔫 🚀 🚙🚤🚣c🍀⚜⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣🚣 🚣🚣🚣 🚀 🚀🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣 🔨 🚙 🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣 ⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣⏲⏱⏰🚣🚣
spinfont unicode-isms 🍀 Praise God! 🍀 🍀⏲⏱⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰⏲⏱🔫⏰⏰🍀 🎠 🎠 🎠 🔫 🔨🔨 🍀 Praise God! 🍀
🖐 🖐 🖐 🖐 🖐 🖐🖐🖑 🖑🖐
Here is today's pretty poem:
Springtime in Middlesex Country
🖐 🌙 🖑 🖑🌛 🌜🖐 🖐🖑
♥♥? 🖐🖑 🖑🖐glossary of what's next
♥♥? :
Be nice to yourself and others. What other choice?
d
Wake up!
♥♥ Praise ♥♥ the ♥♥ Lord ♥♥ !! end of column
Paging Control
previous
previous
previous
previous
previous
previous
previous
previous
next
The Message Column
It's Autumn and soon to be Winter
I had a server failure and am just getting back to putting this website up again. This is a test to see if I can easily publish
Dec 09, 2024 5:44 PM EST
Winter will soon be here!
A lot can happen in a year. I used to update these pages all the time. Maybe I could start doing that again?
Today was the day of setting the clocks forward.
March 10, 2024 10:35 PM EST
Winter 2024
I would go back to work if I had an offer.
No one who contacts me about work seems to provide any serious prospects, like they are just hazing me..
Avoiding discord
The realization that much of what you find on line is just bots messing with people and trying to train them to be ineffective at debate by making them revert to insults, putdowns, and sub-human behavior makes social media seem to be a wasteland. It is best to not participate in that.
All the rain could have been snow!
2024!
Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord
for his unfailing love!
Teach me to be an instrument of your Peace! -St Thomas Aquinis
Success after long perseverence gives you a new life!
Hover Modifiers
this image selector div is for the page body background
this image selector div is for the column background
Praise Praise Praise
the the the
Lord Lord Lord!
for because
Easter He's so awesome!
welcome to The Message Column!
🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥
♥
🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑 ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥
Vote Once One Vote here is a fresh link, a new path to some older content:
Seasons change month to month and sometimes we get back to what we left to the side.
In Wicked Need of an Edit
🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀
Political and Media Inanity
Truck-u-later
in this column Truck-u-later steps in deeper . . .
well most news was about the raid a few weeks ago, I read up on what I could find.
I read up on it but I didn't try to spend too much time dwelling on it.
I wrote some things. But I can only observe these things. I wish not to be seen as being one who understands what it going on in the world these days. I try to learn what happens and try less to 'splain about the peeps involved. That whole 'It's them!' finger pointing is bogus and discordant to an eccumenical and open hearth world view.
And those who seek to live within a meta where they rule the world as a cartoon avatar persona . . . and do their pyramid scheme money-thang and their virtuality as if it's real . . . They do as they will and I have no say over their futures. So why do they pretend to have a say over mine?
The answer is: that if they live within a meta, then their rules are for them there. Outside of that, in the real world, those of us who aren't crazy with self-entitled ideation, and wealth beyond measure that enables us to put the equipment on, and all of it's tethering and attachments and live within that matrix world . . . all of us who do not wish to join them in what seems to be a depraved cult of wish fulfillment cooupled with a magical point of view about the fate of peoples and persons . . . all of us who have not gone crazy like that . . . you can't really expect us to let you carry on and try to rule us from within your cage of technology?
video gaming morphed into 'meta world creation' because the games were too depraved that had the cool world layouts that people like. The puzzles one loves to solve, and the cool graphics that one wants to see were those times interspersed with simulated acting out of depraved behaviors, like having to kill all the other characters in the scene before one moves on to the next level.
So at some point you trained yourself to not do it, to click through the depravity as if it's not there, and maybe miss a creepy backstory. I gave up playing those kinds of games, and I still ike to watch old replays, but I fast forward through the gun fight parts, the ghouls who hound Lara Croft in the end levels of, say Tomb Raider aniversary are tiresome and almost designed to make the players hate this kind of depravity in a game, as if the writers are telling their funders ;Really, a kill anything that seems alive simulation? Like clones could never be born without a need to kill everything else in the proximity from where it emerged? Well, we all know what happend to the Lora Croft franchise, and most video games.
But the graphics can be compelling and fun, so people still get some enjoyment out of it.
And those who think that they can rule from within a meta? they have the persona of the villianous ancient ghoul who haunts Laura through out here travels. Watch a walk through of tomb Raider Aniversary. Feel free to fast forward through the psychopathic parts. But do listen to the banter and the dialog. Spoiler alert: Laura has a lot of soul searching to do.
Aug 29, 2022 Tell us how you really feel
蠱 work on what has been spoiled
sometimes you just need to remove kruft.
Politics never ends but sometimes it's better to remain mute. Mostly when there is nothing needing or wanting to be said.
but that is no one, that has not hapened to anyone you made it up. thankfully true.
We move along. We keep doing for ourselves. We survive. We don't let the world define who and what we are, or how we feel, or what any of this really means.
And if they have bad humor, and will not forgive they will hate you then.
but at least in that story they leave you alone after all of that
They dont' always leave you alone. It seems they still sometimes want to connect to try to draw that cray cray narrative out one more time. And you have to explain that, no, sorry, this is a bit. You caught me while I was writing a character, that's not me. I am using tht as a dialog in a paly that I'm having my character write inside of his narrative, he's writing his own play about a guy writing a play.
It's like he feeds on it, I get bothered that he lets me go on with it.
I speak but there is no one there. I know that there is no one there. I'm not really talking to myself but I know that I'm not talking to anybody else.© 2017 © 2019 © 2018 © © 2020 © 2021 © 2022
Praise Praise Praise
the the the
Lord Lord Lord
for his for his for his
unfailing unfailing unfailing
love! love! love!
well, little else now.
Be well in every way possible!
Paging Control
previous previous previous previous previous previous previous previous next
Paging Control
previous previous previous previous previous previous previous previous next
next
next
next
next
next
next
nextThe Right Column
Weather
Broke
Summer has tamed itself.
Should I remove this column or just turn it into pictures? I usually do all might commenting in the other columns here. But I like the way that it all looks on the screen.
Seasons of life come and go. I know that I have strong cycles of productivity. Sometimes are better for doing one thing than other. I can swing myself into the mood of some project, like painting or insulating. But if I run myself raggid I know what that does to me so . . . well I try to maintain an equilibrium of some kind of meditative activity everyday. And if I feel worthless I use it in my pleading way, in the form of what is correct when the ancients said to "Fear the Lord." It never really meant anything to me when I was a kid, not really getting it. Now I think that I understand it a little bit better.
And I think that I understand poetry a little bit better too. So many people are looking for a meaning, a direction that they should take. In a poem it is more like you are reading the various signs at the crossroad at the grand intersections of life. In a poem you are describing the people in the various automobiles that are stopped at the service station near there. In a poem you have two unlikely people suddenly fall in love across a field with butterflies and dragonflies filling the air. In a poem the plane dives into a freefall and the Postmaster has a revelation on the Glories of God Almighty.
Most people might not know to just listen and feel when they are reading a poem. Maybe they have their story voice going and are unwilling to listen to the story that is going on in the poem? They might think that a horn is a vazuza, a one note thing that gets annoying pretty quickly. Mybe their idea of music is that it has to be scored, written down, fussed over. It can't just be the spontanious sounds from a train while it makes the bend and scrapes the rail. And the rap song that comes to mind in the head of the kid whose going for his big interview in the city. Or the beat of the keychain of the conductor that is hanging on a hook on the wall above the desk in the caboose.
And what year is it in a poem? Does it matter? Can anyone even know? And what lake is that down the valley that you can see from the truck stop? In a poem? The ridges. The aspen glow of the dusk on the cliffs of the great mountain. The sight of a dirigible in the far away sky out accoss the valley, down above the factory. The sound of American made motorcycles. Fifty different bandanas on fifty different people. Chanting at a wake for the soul of a dead commrade. The dusk falls harder, sudden sound of bag pipes. A procession of military officers. The guys all lined along the side of the highway with their hands on their hearts. A church officient with a incense burner swinging on a chain and spreding the smell of Arabia through the crowded mourners.
A single cantor sings out a mournful psalm in Hebrew. The crowd is hushed, even the babies hush and listen. A little girl runs towards the legs of her mothers skirt and halts suddenly. A little boy with a bouquette of yellow roses graps her hand. The camera shutters snap silently and capture the perfect light of a perfect moment.
Next it is the trot of the carriage horses pulling that big and ornate antique coffin cart. When it reaches the doors of the church the soldier's mother is escorted inside by her two other sons. One of them is in uniform. A contingent of Marines and Navy Seals serve as honor guard.
But it's just a poem. I can't know what it is really like to be involved in that scene. I just know how solumne it ought to be, that fallen guys need to be honored. Honoring the fallen: that is also poetry.
Geesh, I've flown far and away today,
haven't I?
overlay the overlay.
I got nothing more
October 2, 2012
Could it be multiplied and left outside the heart of it? And then, taken over to the side and written about with soft verbs that make the wind a color and make the moon a phrase that evokes a mood of love. When there were people cheering he felt that the marathon was a wonderous run and he was the king of some realm of mind that meant that he'd never get left behind. When it was cold in the hotel room the cramps, the stomach ache, no clean clothes he called out with lamantatious intent of how "a winner? a looser? I am nothing without You."
Paging Control
previous previous previous previous previous previous previous previous next next next next next next next next
