For Shore, for sure!

The following was so lengthy I thought to bring it along from here.

lgzpoetry
December 9, 2012 at 9:18 pm

Hiya David, long time no correspondance, hey?

To be brutally (and perhaps refreshingly) honest, I don’t actually read that much, or rather, I can definitely say I’m not a bookworm. A few authors who I do enjoy reading when I get the chance include Scott Westerfeld and Terry Pratchett. They have quite different styles of writing, but both manage to include some subtle humour, something I’m quite big on. Other than that, I read the newspaper most days, especially the opinion section (although I’m not quite sure this counts!)

On a related note, I’m pretty confident I learnt to read playing Pokémon when I was about 3 or 4. If not, it definitely bettered my vocabulary!

I just want to say thanks, David. It’s really great to have such a worldly advocate liking what I do. Hopefully with exams now finished, I’ll be back to churning out quality material on a regular basis!

Wonderful to hear from you! I shall take the above from bottom to top (rather than from the centre out, as those who know me well have so jibed.)

You are quite welcome, I am looking forward to seeing more. As well, do pop by my site here and there as time might permit. (You are, after all, my very first commenter, except for my sweetheart of course.)

Regarding Pokémon, I have not seen (nor played) much, perhaps just enough to know that I am not prone to seizures (Is that joke/reference too old for you?) And regarding animé in general, I do enjoy it greatly–particularly that sub-genre termed ‘shonen,’ a favourite of my sweet wife as well, for a number of reasons, not the least of which is that little western heroic fiction written after 1914 is truly heroic–not reliably heroic, in any case; not without vetting it first. Whereas such as I have above mentioned is virtually guaranteed to be so, although why I think this is so, is too long a topic for this already bloated post.

Regarding your learning to read, I find your explanation not at all surprising, as you strike me as quite precocious. This seems a very familiar scenario to me, as such proclivities as I may possess also appeared at a very early age–those of my sweetheart as well, although in a sense, the method with which she learned to read as a very young girl involved sitting on her grandfather’s knee while he read his bible–among other things–and pointed out words for her to read or learn. My way was… quite honestly it must have been very haphazard and random, because I cannot remember ever not being able to read.

When I started writing poetry, I had only read science fiction–which continues to be my favourite–though by this time I have read quite a lot of other types of literature. Poetry… I suppose one might term it my “gateway drug” to the humanities. It was a way in which I could understand my sweetheart’s world of the humanities without having to read huge works of literature (none at all containing spaceships of any form, by the way) which, no doubt would have bored me quite to death at your age.

And regarding the selections you did mention, I have not read anything as of yet by Mr. Westerfield, (what do you recommend as my first?) however not long ago, (in dog years, perhaps) around the turn of the century (yes, this one, young man, not the last) I was introduced to Mr Pratchett’s work and have read nearly all of it. I believe there are a few Discworld offerings–the newest ones–which I have not yet read, but no doubt soon will.

Perhaps, although you have answered my question partially–albeit very graciously–I still wonder regarding the nature of such poetry as you have read, or in what way you were first introduced to its various forms, particularly sonnets, because I do sense some artefacts in some of your wording which to me suggest some influence or other.

I had only read a few sonnets early on in my sojourn into poetry, and fell in love with the form, and started writing them almost from the the first day of my studies–so perhaps, I’m more like you than I had at first imagined; and perhaps also, as my sweetheart continues to insist, my humanities connexions are “more along” than I realise or am willing to admit. In any case, yours may be an example of what, in heuristics, we might term “early synthesis,” as, clearly, is mine.

Also pardon my schizophrenic spelling, as, although I am from the US–though my sweetheart is very English–I recently changed my spell-check to British English. (Believe me when I say I very much need one! And for two reasons, the second of which is my lightning fast typing that does not always produce the desired result, and the first of which is obvious.) I did this because I thought that such UK spellings with which it would prompt me, would be more in keeping with the King James English which (however imperfectly) I often employ in my sonnets, and which my sweetheart so loves (because as such, it reminds her warmly of her early education.) In any case, some US spellings are also considered acceptable to such dictionaries, as those of the UK, and, as a result, the dictionary I am currently using (in Firefox) will not always engage in the type of “Brittpicking” that I should like it do perform. There is, no doubt, a more stodgy one available somewhere that more strongly ‘favours’ UK spellings, because I can see such a thing as being an extremely useful tool for writers.

For Shore « LGZ’s Works

Upon the western gale of waking cold
A saline tang of home do winds decree,
Evoking dusks of red and dawns of gold,
A vivid sky evolves in transient sea.

This beacon! One must note its fabled lure,
Atop its rising breath the sun does ride.
Amalgamating auburn, tan, azure,
The friend in which a million souls confide.

Its influence of calm and grace exudes
To far locales, and in the Open lives
A force for people strong and people shrewd,
And though we take, it nought but gladly gives.

The Ocean, lessons wrought through placid might
Will better all in times of trial and spite.

via For Shore « LGZ’s Works.

This is quite a wonderful work which begs reblogging.

Some figures of misery and poverty in the world…

And as ever, because fewer and fewer of us have engaged ourselves in the study of history in any detail, these facts will cause most of us to:

jump to the wrong conclusion,
name an incorrect cause,
demonise the wrong villain,
propose the wrong solution,
take the wrong action,
hurt those to whom we wish to offer help,
help those we wish to hurt,
ignore any who may truly be responsible…

I thank you very much sir for the visit.

Ronald Reagan: Progressive Taxation Came Direct From Karl Marx | CNS News

I had always found him to be a very nice man. The same in person as in public. I do miss him. Thank you for posting this and sparking old memories.

Neo's avatarnebraskaenergyobserver

 

 

Ronald Reagan on health care, taxation and other things, enjoy.

 

Ronald Reagan, who was then a movie actor, delivered one of the greatest and most prophetic speeches of the 20th century, when he appeared before the Orange County Press Club on July 28, 1961.

Vital Speeches of the Day later published the full text under the headline, “Encroaching Control: Keep Government Poor and Remain Free.”

Reagan made an alarming argument: Americans were slowly surrendering to socialism just as some socialists had predicted they would.

“Not too long ago,” Reagan said, “Norman Thomas, six times a candidate for president on the Socialist Party ticket, commented that ‘the American people would never knowingly vote for socialism but that under the name of liberalism, they would adopt every fragment of the socialist program.'”

Reagan pointed to several examples, starting with health care.

“Traditionally, one of the easiest…

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It seems that this rarefied territory as…

…such of us who maintain our rather anonymous, low volume blogs enjoy will be sorely missed when, at some point, one finds one has crossed the line into some higher level of recognition.   Most of us here at this level–if not all, which truly has been my experience–seem not to offer harsh judgement, but simply a neighbourly kind of support.   I myself, have never been, in such a way, too critical; and although from some of my writings, one might infer that I might be found rather particular as regards my likes and dislikes, I have a number of reasons why–even pre-blogging–this is my general way of approaching such things.  One might, for example read elsewhere in this blog, that I feel an aspiring writer is too odd a duck to give the kind of advice that another aspiring writer may need–unless that writer is deliberately targeting other aspiring writers; a thing which may or may not be the case.  This is not the least of my reasons, such as they are; however I will leave it to the reader to ferret out my other such reasons.

In any case, crossing the boundary brings into ones world, flaming, trolling, and other elemental denizens.  Some trolls are even paid assassins meant to break the spirit of those who do not, as it were, “tow the line” in whatever way some shadowy foundation might have decided needs towing.  Of this I have seen many examples, and read about a great deal more.  As I  myself am a technically savvy fellow, I am not as concerned with such things.  They will be met with the appropriate countermeasures.  Some of which my more technically savvy readers will, no doubt find very entertaining.

However, such a moment carries with it, like it or not, a feeling of “childhood’s end,” as one might term it.  A bit sad in some undefinable way.  I remember very well, my first such moment–rather trivial by comparison–being the very first comment I received from someone other than my sweet wife.  I remember it giving me pause.  Not sure, I remember I felt, as to whether I should acknowledge it myself, or just pretend it never happened.

As it turned out, responding in kind opened up a whole new world to me; and this is a thing for which I am most appreciative.  Although I have not seen many new posts from my first follower–as he was rather young, and, I am most certain, has other priorities besides maintaining a blog.  Still my exchanges with this young man remain quite significant in my memory.  And, he is, as, of this date, his most recent post will show, a very talented young man.  (This, by the way, is a quite beautiful tribute to a lighthouse, if I am not mistaken)

In any case….   Childhood’s end?  We should not fear it.  We should not regret it, except to look back upon it fondly and with gilding such as only nostalgic recollection may bring.  But, certainly we should look it straight in the face and bravely yell:  “Bring it on!”

♥ TRUE CHILD ♥

I shall repeat here, in this reblog, what I have commented–as quite often I perform these actions in the wrong order.

I, as is most usual, find myself lifted up and cheered whereupon reading of such an ongoing spiritual journey. I should like at some point to write more upon this subject; however, for the time being, the Muse calls!

Cindy Livingstone Ministries's avatarCindy Livingstone Ministries® Revivalist

Bride of Christ

I asked the Father to show me what a True Child of God is like and this is what He Said:

      

My Remnant will stand in the Full Embodiment of Christ.
They shall Discern the season and will be Watchful toward the infiltrated enemy.
My Voice will be the Beacon unto their spirit. 
They will maneuver with the Boldness of a Lion and the Love of a Lamb.
They are Wiser than any serpent and are Enriched with My Sovereign Presence.
Their Words shall be as Fire that burn through the soul and reach into man’s Heart.
Their Sight shall gaze upon My Kingdom and they will bring Glory to their Heavenly Father on earth.
They shall Stand in adversity and Demonstrate My Miraculous Power and Conquer the enemy with My Truth.
They are Carriers of the Sword of Truth……
In their hearts they know My Righteousness……
Their mind is…

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Dreaming of Hiking – Badlands Nat’l Park, South Dakota

Strangely, I recall a news story of a man disappearing in the badlands around Phoenix AZ. Very confusing and dangerous territory, it is. I know that area fairly well–well enough to stay on the marked trail. If one loses ones bearings in such interlacing canyons, one might never find ones way out, nor would ones body be discovered for years–as it what occured in the above mentioned story.