Questions nobody asks. #1

There’s more churches than 7-Elevens in this country?! I guess that’s possible. And churches and cathedrals all over Europe from eversince. More than castles. Yet look at the state the ‘CIVILISED’ world is in. Have I ever seen a “Church of Satan”?? Have you? Things are so bad that they say that Jesus himself is going to come back to clean up the whole mess. Ever wonder where Satan is hiding?. . . In plain sight. And continually building monuments to an idea that parishoners and Heathens alike pay lip service, Big time.

POTUS ?! A voluntary legionaire?

I had to get a copy of the book and read it for myself because Obama was to me, a “Hero”, though not a role model. Then, after getting the book in my hand my wife pulls up the info/QUOTE, that I had to,HAD TO, read for myself. And there it was, on the internet for everybody to see. In the book “The Audacity of Hope”, President Obama writes: “I will stand with the Muslims should the political winds shift in an ugly direction.” Whaaatt!!? The quote comes from page 261 of the paperback edition. How come all the watchdog journalist out there kept this a secret from us? I’m just saying.. . And there is more unbelievable stuff right there on the internet..

O Boy! O Boy ! Stone soup

_________

A Dammed sight better than Nutten’

Is freshly made Stone Soup

Culled from any Round Stone

Found in an untended Garden

Boiled in Plain tap water

For a while with some stuff added

 

Stirred with a Hambone If you have one

With a carrot thrown in

If you have one

Or a Potato or Pumpkin

If you have one

Or a cabbage or maybe Turnips

If you happen to have one or both

Or green peppers or Collards

If you have some

Or an Onion even or altogether

 

And the best part of Stone soup

is this

You can use the same stone

More than once

So save it.

 

 

But is it art? Comments to a ‘Times’ article in 1997

OK precursive. Now that you’ve ruined my coming out party. Sincere thanks.  And here’s why,your reply to this “But is it art?” article in the  ‘Times in 1997, was going to be my finale, after posting a few more comments from big wigs in the art world. I am quite lazy you see. I sense that either you are a bigger wig than them all,those commenters, or as simple a man as I am.  In a word, art is nothing but  and “ILLUSTRATION “.  Your post  is a summation of all the comments that could be made about art.————–

THis was the hook for an article in the “Times” dated Oct 22 1997. The article was sub headed; “It’s not a new question,but it bears repeating. When art-world denizens are asked to define ‘art’, the outcome is predictable.” . . It was a piece by Amei Wallach. Here are the framed opening paragraphs. “The […]

 

Not all subjective experiences are as universally meaningful as others, not all products are created with the skill of an experienced craftsperson, not all endeavors are undertaken with the attention and patience of someone who feels their very soul is dependent on outcomes, not all projects require internal transformation. The question isn’t really something ‘is art’ or ‘not art’, it is whether it is ‘meaningful art’, or ‘skillful art’, or ‘heart and soulful art’, or ‘transformational art’, or (dare be asked) ‘useful art’. Art without meaning, skill, soul/heart, utility… that does not fundamentally affect it’s viewer… is still art, but most wouldn’t consider it worthy of hanging in a gallery or being performed in public. Most wouldn’t exchange money (or even time) for it. That said, some seem to strive towards hollow superficiality as if it were spiritual enlightenment

Western culture is still trying to reconcile and integrate the concepts of meaningful-meaninglessness and effortless-effort. I look forward to the future where we try to intentionally balance that ‘great art comes only when egos get out of the way’ with our focus on ego-development and reinforcement. The great future Neo-Buddhist-Epoch of Western Culture—————–/

So in essence, a stick figure scotch-taped to a refrigerator door is art  Q.E.D by a child.

God has a morbd sense of humor sometimes

Funny thing these cosmic junctures called coincidences. The first blog I read this morning is a blog on WordPress by Rich Muller(Which every one should read) dated Friday March 15, entitled “ A Short Story About Friendship.” I had a similar but opposite experience following my Helicopter’s crash in an engagement in Viet Nam. Presumably left for dead I came to after being unconscious and found myself hanging from my seat belt. The chopper was laying on it’s left side and there was no one around. When I unhooked and climbed out, I landed between the feet of Evans our crew chief. The chopper had flipped on it’s left side and pinned him underneath. Fuel was pouring from the drainage sump so I immediately tried to stop the flow with the palm of my hand. Still there was a lot under pressure, spewing fuel out onto the ground and of course around my boots. If help didn’t come soon there was going to be big, big fireworks. But where was the Pilot and co- pilot. After a while an observation Helicopter came in low an slow, hovered and Ferrizzi, if I remember his name right threw me down a small fire extinguisher, instead of jumping out and helping to get the helicopter off Evans. Eventually it happened, blue clouds of flame hugging the ground around my boots were spreading, slowly, and I knew that any minute they would reach the rocket pods that pinned Evans, and the explosions would begin. I could do nothing more but get myself killed waiting for help so I climbed back into the chopper, grabbed my rifle and a couple ammo belts and headed for cover. About twenty yards into the clearing before the tree line I heard someone yell. “Mack! Mack! Over here.” Unbelievably, the whole Blue platoon, five rifle squads were deployed in the tree line and no one came to help us all that time. I never questioned why and no one spoke about the crash and that was the end of that. Except that we were told not to write to Evan’s family because his body was blown to bits, and his remains had to be identified positively by the Army. I saw what was left of his barbecued rib cage. Nothing else was left of him. Harvey especially was repeatedly reminded not to write because he lived on the same block as Evans and knew the Evans family. Why no one came to try to help us? I’ll never know for sure. They feared the explosion associated with aircraft crashes? In Rich Mullers story, one man risked his life for his friend. In Evan’s story a whole platoon left us to die and did not try to recover my unconscious body. Thank God I came to in time. But that’s just the way war is.

 

Seeing is believing ? Knowing is really unbelievable !

 

This is part of a post by world famous traveller and Word Press Blogger Elena Levon…

 

France is no longer full of carefree, sexual and confident women. Women don’t walk or swim topless even in South of France. They got replaced by full on military men, (I’m sorry, are we in Iraq?) thieves and beggars.

 

Was a witness to a full on robbery.. a bunch of bags were stolen from Japanese tourists. Liberte also got replaced by incredible amounts of women in full on burkas. Don’t get me wrong, I love that culture,have many close friends who are Muslimand always covered in a Muslim country… always! You will always see tan lines. But to be walking in a corset in Paris, of all places, amongst women who are covered from head to toe, made me very uncomfortable. Sexy outfits and risqué attitudes, are replaced with oppression. I deeply respect Muslim culture, but could not help feeling oppressed by the energy that hangs so thick above Paris and other French cities. Well, once upon a time, France occupied Morocco… karma is a bitch… C’est la vie…

Women’s faces were not the only faces that were covered. As it turned out, the face of Paris – Eiffel Tower was also “covered” for several days – workers