Art and Entertainnemt

The Quotare You A Witchquot Test

2009-03-03T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dr. Dorothy McCoy

"Tis the witching hour of night, Orbed is the moon and bright, And the stars they glisten, glisten, Seeming with bright eyes to listen For what listen they?" John Keats

The singular popularity of the Harry Potter books and movies has magically transformed the occult into an international obsession. Don't you think there is a little of the witch or wizard in all of us? It would be helpful to have the option to throw a love spell on that great looking hunk or babe you covet. Would you like to recapture "the one" who got away? I can certainly identify with that goal. I am researching my own little "come back to me hunk" spell as we speak. Perhaps, he won't object to being turned into a slimy snail. He will be my hunk or someone's snail, it is his choice to make. However, as a psychotherapist, I support freedom of choice and will fight for it with the very last ounce of strength in my body. However, there are limits.

Are you a witch just waiting to burst forth as the magical creature you were born to be? Do you remember Samantha in the retro television program, "Bewitched?" You have probably seen, and perhaps felt a mystical connection with the new "Bewitched" movie.

Be aware, we are talking about good witches or wizards. Just in case you are thinking about black magic, be cautioned, you will not learn how to transform your boss into an amoeba in my book (I was only teasing about the snail). Just in case I am mistaken, remember the cardinal rule, never tell where you found the spell.

Though the only witches we see are in the movies or on television, witches were a very "real" phenomenon to the European population in the 17th century. In our own country, Salem, Massachusetts, is infamous for its witch mania and its lack of "due process" trials. "Witches" were tried in Salem until 1692. Deliverance Hobbs confessed to witchcraft, "admitting to pinching three girls at the devil's command and flying on a pole to attend a witches' Sabbath in an open field" (Salem Witchcraft History). One must assume, one of three possibilities: she was a genuine broom riding witch, she was coerced or she had emotional issues. My educated guess would be she was coerced.

Many people in the 21st century profess to believe in witchcraft and magic. Let's see how much you know about being a witch or warlock. You may be the next Samantha or Sam. Choose "Y" for YES or "N" for NO for the following questions then tally your score using the instructions that follow the test (no, you may not use witchcraft).

Check Your Witchy I.Q.

1. ____ Love spells, charms and potions have been dated to 2400-1900 BC.

2. ____ Celtic and Gypsy cultures have a rich history of magic lore.

3. ____ Rose Quartz is associated with love spells.

4. ____ Black cats are often used in "lost love" spells.

5. ____ Women are usually more successful than men in using genuine magic spells.

6. ____ Fire is an essential part of all love spells.

7. ____ The full moon is frequently a requisite in love spells.

8. ____ A love spell sans candles is like cookies without milk.

9. ____ Direction matters many spells include the direction you should face while repeating the magic words.

10. ____ Love potion number 9 is actually a genuine love potion.

Scoring: Give yourself one point for each correct answer.

Correct Answers:

1. Yes. According to one reputable witch, this is correct. I would have asked for her source, however, she impolitely disappeared in a puff of smoke. If you see her tell her to pop back in and retrieve her bat!

2. Yes. Magic threads through these rich cultures and many other cultures

3. Yes. My sources seemed (with all of that popping in and popping out, how can one tell) to agree on this connection.

4. No. Not unless your true love is Garfield.

5. Yes. Women have a natural ability to listen and are more intuitive. Guys, please, do not write to my dear, much-loved publisher or to me. I am merely reporting.

6. No. I found very few common elements among the many love spells I researched. The only essential fire is the one within you red-hot passion.

7. No. I think it should be necessary, but I found it in very few love spells.

8. Yes. Most love spells used candles.

9. Yes. Knowing which way to turn to find north, south, east and west seems to be important. Fortunately, my Ford Expedition came with a direction finder device.

10. No. At least, I could not find it in the literature on love spells.

Scoring

Add your points...

What Does My Score Mean?

Scores 1 3 Perhaps you should try a sexy mini skirt and a "magic" perfume. You do not seem to be suited to witchcraft. However, if you are determined you may want to try these resources: http://www.academyofsorcery.com/?google Witch Newsletter. Because practice makes perfect, even in magic I have also included a love spell that is guaranteed to be fun and the highlight of your next gathering of friends. What do you have to lose? Are the love spells guaranteed? Depends on your mini skirt

Scores 4 7 You have potential you could develop. I think the love of your life had better plan on being yours for as long as you want him or her. Do you want to know more? Try our resources. Don't forget to practice the love spell, especially since I nearly forfeited my life procuring it for you. Yes, I have tried it. How well did it work? If I told you that, "they" would turn me into an aardvark.

Scores 8 10 Hello Samantha or Sam. You are undeniably gifted. Your anticipated target doesn't have a chance. A little practice can't hurt, see spell on following page. Don't forget to order a caldron. You never know when you might need it.

Love Spell

1 White "Bride and Groom" candle or other white figural couple candle 1 Pink "Bride and Groom" candle or other pink figural couple candle 1 Red "Bride and Groom" candle or other red figural couple candle a nail or needle to carve the candles

Carve your beloved's initials into each candle. Burn one candle each night, precisely at midnight, while singing the words to "Goodnight My Love." You must wear white, and hold a red carnation in your right hand. Or was that your left hand? Try both hands. For the words to Goodnight My Love go to http://www.lyricsxp.com/.

After three nights, you should be ready for the final phase of the spell. Be kind and caring, use good communication skills (or learn them), and let him know he is special to you. Be low-key, you don't want to frighten the pursued. Be a good listener and an interesting conversationalist. Nothing is more precious or fragile than the wondrous, magical emotions you share with your beloved. They can endure forever or the slightest breeze may wither them. While they are yours, experience them frequently and wholeheartedly.

More bewitching hints: Give him a nickname. Look into his eyes for four minutes without interruption (research supports both of these hints). Good luck! This spell works for both genders I am an equal opportunity witch.

This test and article are from The Ultimate Book of Personality Tests; written by Dr. Dorothy McCoy, (http://www.police-stress.com), Champion Press, 2005. You can order the book at http://www.championpress.com, on-line, or at http://www.amazon.com, or at your favorite bookstore and enjoy all 51 tests. About the Author Dr. Dorothy McCoy, Columbia, SC USA drmccoy86@aol.com Learn more about test, quizz, witch, spell, personality Dr.McCoy is an author, psychotherapist and police consultant. Two of her books (The Ultimate Book of Personality Tests and From Shyness to Social Butterfly)have been published and three other books will be released in the next few months. She can be reached at drmccoy86@aol.com

African Wildlife Art

2009-03-02T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Jason Gluckman

Wildlife art is considered as one of man's earliest art forms because some of the carvings that have been found in archeological sites predate written history. This art form inspires an appreciation of the relationship between man and nature. However, wildlife art can depict other things depending on which country or place the artwork comes from. An example of this is how Native Americans associated different traits with different animals. Another example is what wildlife art represents in Africa.

Wildlife art in African culture

One of the most common themes in African art is that of a male with a weapon or an animal, which is used to give honor to ancestors, because animal ownership in Africa connotes honor and power. Sculpting a horse together with the likeness of an ancestor gives honor to that ancestor. This is because in African culture, ownership of a horse signifies power and wealth, as riding a horse "elevates" the rider to a higher position compared to other people. With regard to other animals, the interpretation of what they depict can also depend on which tribe made the sculpture. Interpretations of the same animal may vary among tribes.

Multiplicity of meaning

On how Africans view wildlife art, it can be concluded that this kind of art tends to carry a multiplicity of meanings that depends on which tribe made it or for what ritual it was used. This fact has made it very difficult for Western observers to understand this art form in Africa given the numerous "permutations" of meaning that this art form may carry.

Wildlife art is one of the earliest art forms that man has created. Such an art form has been used by most cultures. However, different cultures interpret wildlife art differently from other cultures. This has led to a seemingly endless list of symbolism that cultures assign on art that depict animals.

African Art provides detailed information on African Art, African Tribal Art, African Wildlife Art, African American Art and more. African Art is affiliated with Abstract Art Paintings.

Acne Products

2009-03-01T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Stein Ove Stien

Acne is one of the few things that every teenager is afraid of. It has adverse effects on your self-esteem and may even lead to problems like depression if not cured on time and properly.

The market is flooded with a score of acne products. It is important to know about the available products before letting testing them on your precious skin. One should also keep in mind that not every treatment may suit you. And what may be perfect for your friend may make your situation even worse. This makes it even more important to not get into traps. The most important rule for using acne products is that when you test any product it should not cause any itching or burning sensation. It should not be harsh on your skin and should be suited to your skin type.

A score of masks, scrubs, creams and gels are available in the market.

Acne does not have any quick and easy treatment, though a lot of products may have you believe otherwise. You have to be careful not to get into traps and use things best suited to your type of skin. Any medication that causes burning sensation or itching to your skin is not for you and you should consult a doctor immediately if that happens. You can choose from natural or medicated medicine for acne. Natural medicines are a combination of plant extracts and medicated medicines are based on chemicals like benzoyl peroxide or salycic acid.

All leading brands of cosmetics have medications for acne and your doctor may prescribe any of them depending on your skin type and the concentration of chemical used.

Few acne products that are available in the market are Oxy10 balance emergency spot treatment, Clinique Acne Solutions emergency gel lotion, DDF BP Gel 5% with Tea tree oil, pH isoderm 4-way daily acne cleanser, Biore blemish bomb, Johnson & Johnson Persa Gel, Biore Blemish Double Treatment and many more.

While some products need to be used on a regular basis as they prevent any bursts, others are also available which can be used in times of emergencies.

But no matter what anyone may advice you, only you can be the best judge of products that suit you. You should keep in mind your skin types and any allergies that affect you. Skin is something that you should treat very carefully and should avoid using excessive chemicals on. It is something that may cost you a bomb if permanently damaged.

Stein Ove Stien is the manager of 1acne-treatment.com with Acne Blogs Guides and Acne Treatment Articles

Glass Stories

2009-02-28T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Bronwen Roberts

Glass and Resonance
We have all heard stories of how opera singers can shatter glass upon hitting a particular note. However, how plausible is this notion? In order to shatter glass, a singer's voice has to be able to match the frequency of the glass. (Every object has a resonant frequency, which is the natural frequency at which an object vibrates.) If you blow on the edge of a glass, you will hear a resonant hum, and if you keep blowing, you can even create a tune - this sound is the unique resonant frequency of the glass.

The singer would have to sing very loudly: precisely producing a note of about 135 decibles, which is more sonic boom than pertaining to anything musical. The human threshold for pain is about 120 decibels. The note would have to be maintained for the duration of at least two to three seconds for the right vibration to build up, so the glass could shatter. In the late 70s, laboratory experiments with a professional soprano and a trumpet player showed that neither could shatter glass. The only singer who has apparently succeeded is the famed tenor, Enrico Caruso, but the validity of this claim is a matter of conjecture.

Glass and Wine
Why do wine glasses have such long stems? Wine enthusiasts proclaim that it is essential in order to prevent the heat of one's hand on the glass from warming the wine. Any drink that is chilled should be in a glass with a stem. Equally important is the aesthetics of a fine stem, which enhances the pleasure of the experience.

By contrast, fine scotch or cognac is drunk from a snifter glass, which has a short stem. The stem in the snifter should be wedged between one's middle and ring finger, with the palm and fingers wrapped around the bowl of the glass, to gently warm the whisky/brandy and allow the aromas to come to the fore.

Glass and Computers
Anyone who uses a computer knows that an optical mouse does not work on a glass table! Because optical mice use an LED and a camera to rapidly, capture images of the surface beneath the mouse. This information is analyzed by a DSP (Digital Signal Processor), which is used to detect imperfections in the underlying surface, and determine motion. Some materials, such as glass, mirrors or other very shiny, uniform surfaces interfere with the ability of the DSP to analyze the surface beneath the mouse. Since glass is transparent and uniform, the mouse is unable to pick up enough imperfections in the underlying surface to determine motion.

Mirrored surfaces are also a problem, since they constantly reflect back the same image, causing the DSP not to recognize motion properly. When the system is unable to see surface changes associated with movement, the mouse will not work properly.

Glass and Household
Cleaning glass is the big 'bug bear' of most homeowners! The endless build up of soap scum lurking on your tiles and soap racks, and the soapy film on shower doors is like the invasion of Alien 5! Here are a few handy hints on how to keep the alien out of your home.

Some say that the best way to get the film off glass doors is to use a no-wax floor cleaner. All you do is wipe it on and make sure you clean it off very well. Vinegar is a close second - you can also add vinegar to your dishwasher or sink, which will get rid of any soap residue and give your dishes an extra sparkle.

Ammonia can also clean glass. You can also make your own ammonia solution by combining ammonia and water. Use a spray bottle and spray directly onto the surface. Use a sponge or stiff-bristled brush to scrub affected areas. Wipe clean, and rinse well. Newspaper has enough friction to clean the gunk off and is smooth enough to act as a cleaning cloth.

Let soap scum buildup on glass be a thing of the past. Pilkington Glass has brought out a self-cleaning glass, guaranteed to rock the world of any homeowner. This innovative product, conceived by the world-leaders in glass making, meets all the relevant international standards, and is able to perform in extreme conditions.

How To Detect And Remove Adware Spyware For Free

2009-02-27T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Jackson Summers

Do you know that Adware and Spyware is now a world wide problem for our computer? With their viral and hostile behaviour it has change to Malware. We cannot stopped Adware and Spyware in theft and deceit in this World Wide Web. There are lots of ways to detect and remove Adware and spyware and that can be costly too. How about getting an anti-virus software which will not cost you a dime? Just look for a software called Spyware Nuker.

If you don`t use internet much, Firefox is good. Easy to comprehend and the browser performs very well with excellent security protection.

Be very careful about using Microsoft Internet Explorer. It is like a Swiss Cheese, plenty of endless supply of Security Holes. Prior versions to the browser, Microsoft has known to send out endless patches to fix all the flaws in the Internet Explorer 6.X. How secure can it be? You would be surprised to know, even setting to the the highest security, it still give away the functional specific exploitable features when switched off.

Go and get Windows XP Service Pack 2`s Firewall, you can use software or hardware it`s doesn`t matter. It`s not expensive and not difficult at all. Even you use DSL or broadband cable connection, your Internet Service Provider will issued DSL or cable router with the firewall installed. Very simple, just follow all the instructions carefully and you will not go wrong.

If it so happen ISP did not provide a DSL or Broadband cable router with the firewall, you can get it any where for about $20-$60, or get a mail-in rebate for much cheaper. When using cable broadband ISP, cable router is required. Linksys will have firewalls installed and also Network Address Translation (NAT) which has a feature that actually hides IP address from Internet. Most router has very easy directions how to use it. To safe guard your computer, download free software firewall may be a good idea.

You can restored your system with free Lavasoft`s Adaware and Spybot Search &Destroy. There are many webside to look into which are safe and can clean out spyware, adware and malware such as Majorgeeks.com and they cost nothing.

It is very important to get a firewall, and use all kinds of options, this way you are aware of good anti-adware and spyware application. Immediately, you can detect and get rid of it before your computer is affected.

Get the best Adware and Adware Spyware removers on the market today. Instant downloads and free trial periods available.

Boarder Town Melee Christmas Day1927

2009-02-26T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Note: the story took place around Christmas time, in 1927, the names of the people and location have been changed, for reasons I'd prefer not to mention: which linger in my family's history.

(The End) Seven Mexicans came to the bridge crossing from the American side of Laredo, and what is known as the Rio Grande, over to what is known as Laredo Nuevo, or the New Laredo, and again the same crossing the same river, yet known to the other side, the Mexican side, as the Rio Bravo de Norte.

A strong looking United States youthful Military Sergeant was checking their ID's out, as an American Colonel, Colonel Wright (who had just happened to be at the crossing at the same time), seen the Sergeant in Charge, checking them out: doing a cross-checking, double checking of the several weather beaten Mexican's. Thence, the warrior Colonel stood by watching carefully (as he leaned against his car dawdling over some papers in his hands)studying the inspection, as the Sergeant check out their clothing, along with their undergarments, faces [profiles], ID's(precarious indeedwas the good Sergeant, thought the colonel); possible some of this checking was too impress the Colonel: so the Colonel thoughtfor the Sergeant was taking much longer than normal: or possible because he felt there was something wrong and couldn't quite put his finger on it. In the course of a military career, one acquires instincts and wisdom beyond the normal, a survival thing, somehow, someway imprinted into our nature, our physical being, our subconscious, and it goes on automatic in such matters. In either case (with the art of foresight and deduction), the Colonel approached the Sergeant and the several Mexicans, whom were standing beside the guard shack that lead to the bridge crossing the Rio Grande; the Sergeant and his two Privates were armed with weapons, --both privates guardinghawk-eyed on any and everything that moved within the radius of a hundred yards: thus, standingalmost like robotsin case there was resistance, an emergency, or crisis of any kind.

"Any problems Sergeant?" asked the Colonel, whom had one Junior Officer and one Staff Sergeant on each side of him, as he approached within three feet of the Sergeant in Charge of this Guard Post; knowing the Sergeant slightly, for the Colonel had crossed the bridge many times for official meetings, business, with the Mexican aristocrats, on such matters that concerned his GI's going into their town and drinking, buying souvenirs, and buying flesh and pleasure. The Colonelprosperous enough to be able to purchase the respect of the Sergeantwaived to his black-limousine, now in back of him, which was a signal for his driver, a Private First Class, to park it for the time being.

(A pause, --the Sergeant had seen the Colonel approaching: now both within a few feet of one another.)

Says he [the Sergeant now standing three feet in front of the Colonel, with his waxed and dutiful available smile):

"We had some trouble as you know, 'Sir,' earlier on this morning and afternoon, and so I'm just double checking, they look a bit ragged, as if they were doing some fighting someplace, possible the...(a pause, the Colonel is opening his mouth to speak, and the Sergeant simply stops)."

(A light smile appears on the Colonel's face, directly looking into the Sergeant's eyes, to insure he knew, the Sergeant knew that is, that the Colonel was a Colonel, the same one that had looked the other way a few times on his squad that had drank too much, crossing the bridge back to the American side, looked the other way and not brought such matters to his attention, such matters as Court Marshals and so forth and so on).

"Yes, we've had some trouble Sergeant, and yes, double checking is wise, if you don't mind, let me see their papers, or whatever you're holding, ID's of whatever kind they have. We have just fount a good skirmish as you well know, with these devils."

A little unusual the Sergeant was, at this request, that normally would bring suspicion, but the Sergeant handed over the documents nonetheless: four-passports, two birth certificates, three licenses. All indicating they were from Mexico City, and Veracruz.

"Without a doubt, I don't see a mounting problem with these wetbacks." (Implying these were Mexicans that swam the Rio to work on the American side that was not likely trying to get back home.) I seen all their faces, face-to-face almost, I killed three of them you know, three for sure if not more. Let them pass on through: double checking these, well, well time is redundant, easier to just let them go back across the boarder than hustle them to death, and use our time for other things," said the Colonel, commenting, then adding:

"You have a good eye Sergeant, but I doubt any of these are Manual Garcia, and therefore, let them get on home to their families, I'm sure they are being missed, you know the Latin's, their families worry to death when they are not home on time (a light chuckle comes from the Colonels mouth)."

(Garcia was in with the seven, and the Colonel knew this; but what the Sergeant didn't know, and the Colonel did know, was two things: first, all seven had weapons under their ponchos, had they checked much more a new skirmish would have been provokedand it was Christmas Day; second, he had given his word for a twenty-four truce, although only them two knew it. And even though the '24-hour period,' was not spelled out during the dialogue between Garcia and the Colonel, it was implied, understood, and they both knew it.) Having heard that from the Colonel, the Sergeant started to stand downhesitantly, but stand down he did, thus, detaching him from the much concerned tension that was building. The Colonel somehow had created calm, save for the tiny cloud of suspicion he had left in the mind of the Sergeant.

Early Part of the Day

(Part One) In the early part of the day, the part that the Sergeant was talking about, the Colonel, during a fire-fight, had killed his son, Garcia's son, and wife whom tried to guard him (Garcia, father and husband had been huddled together) from racing bullets, and in the process they took the bullets for him. The colonel new, then and now, the moment of battle, when the bullets are flying, seemingly never to stopmen tend to hope without being conscious of it, hope for a happy ending, life (and so this also would be part of his deliberation, when he would approach after the battle, the bridge the seven would try to cross, which was still in the future).

In addition, there were a number of American soldiers killed in the fire-fight. The battle had gone on for over three hours, and when it was overthe clash that took place in this small town, on the American side of the boarderthe Colonel took to restingthinking much on trifling matters, allowing his imagination to speculate of his future, fanciful thoughts came and left. Nownow with an empty pistol on his lap, resting against a brick wall of a second floor building he was occupying, his mind went to the current event: he had shot previously transverselyacross from one building to the other sidethat is from the top of the building he was in, to the building on the other side where Garcia was, for whence he had kill the enemy: the wife and son who had surrounded Garcia: this was now on his mind, he didn't mean to shoot the wife and child, but it did happen, peculiar as it was, it did take place. What were they looking for he pondered on? That one would give up their life for: possible he said, for, "Paradise without snakes." Yet, he had never found that place himself.

Thereafter, thinking the battle was over, and Garcia was dead (of which of course he was not) he had found himself walking down aimlessly down off the top of the building, and resting against a wall on the second floor; --tired, fatigued: feeling a little guilty, and sad, that the skirmish could not have been contained to simply the men of the world; he let out a great sigh of energy from his stomach and lungs as he leaned hard against the brick wallalmost in a sonorous voice the last of the air came with in his body came out of his nose; his eyes shutting a bit, and then reopening.

As the silence of the afternoon took holdthe sun overwhelmingly heating up the outside of the vacant building like toast, the Colonel rested cumbersomely against the wall of the building: cooling his body temperature to normal, as he started to breath better, more from his stomach: while checking his empty revolver, now resting on his thigh: while his other soldiers remained in place, he had one platoon of: forty-four-men in all; forty-four men covering the whole town of which ten of them had surrounded this very building, and the building Garcia was in.

The Colonel had given instructions to all remaining soldiers to stay in place, to stand down for the moment, to let the Mexicans come out if they wished to, peacefully: but none did. And so it was a waiting game. They had killed several they knew, several Mexicans, and figured between five to ten were left (--evidently, it was seven, only seven were left, for they had showed up at the bridge ((all seven haggard looking, but soldiers none the less, and the Colonel knew, he knew his word was given, implied, not to fight, and that more lives were at stake had he let the situation go, or get out of hand; whence, he headed on to his next destination in his big-long, black limacine)).

The two men: Garcia and Colonel Wright now were face to faceboth less then twenty-feet away. Garcia had showed up on the other side of the street, oddly enough, on the stairway that led up to the room the Colonel was in, resting against the wall. The Colonel heard the foot steps, but said nothing, thinking it was one of his men. Hence, still sitting, leaning lightly against the wall now, not as heavy as he was before, again, an instinctive measure for he did not here his men talking nor any low-laughter from their voices, nor the sounds of boots, just an uneasy sound of one person climbing the steps; his men came in two's or three's, normally not alonehe went checking out his pockets for a cigar, for he projected to himself the fighting had stopped, or at least clogged up for now, for about twenty-minutes.

As the Mexican warrior got onto the second floor, the dusty wooden floor (a few spiders, roaches, rats scrambling here and therethe colonel started now listening even more so to the disruption of the moment), thence, he (he being: Garcia) seen the Colonel latent, resting against the fortification-thick brick wall, he had seen him before, they both had seen each other before, but the Colonel was now vulnerableand Garcia stood there like a tropical moon light fixture. The Colonel had bullets to insert into his gun in his pocket, but instead said before Garcia could pull out his weapon,

"Enough, there's been enough fighting for one day, enough killing for one day its Christmas Day, (both maintaining a sharp look at each others movements, as if to indicated should I, or should I notsnake instincts, snake eyes: race, charge quickly for my bullets, or shoot this murderer who killed my wife and son?."

The dark Mexican, lean and rustic lookinglooking with almost telegraphic eyes, long black hair, sunken in face, pocked marked cheeks, five foot six inches tall, as dirty as a rag-picker: said with an honorable, and bawled voice: "Se, amigo, daya largolet there be peace," (it had been a long day for both, and much killing had taken place) he turned around, a tear in his eye (the Colonel noticed), and walked back down the steps. The Colonel never touched his gun, nor did the Mexican go for his.

Nothing would bring back his wife or child, and in battle one knows there were no rulesnot really, not when it comes to the last moment of breath, all were soldiers, even if you bring into sight your own flesh and blood. Plus Garcia knew that Colonel knew it was not a mans way to kill children or women, it was as it was, something that happened and would not had, had his wife and child not insisted on being part of the militia.

The Roof

[The Beginning] As the Colonel lay back against the rock-hard wall of the building, he thought about what had taken place. He was on top of the building less than an hour ago, or was it more, or was it less. He questioned himself. He shot three times, as he came under fire, as he remembered, as he looked back, back to reminisce. He had then run out of ammo, and had shot his last three shots, two killings, one a woman, and the other a child-warrior, somewhere along the line, in the morning he had killed another Mexican involved with this insurrection. Now after the shootout with his family, blood was all over Garcia's white shirt, which was not really white anymore, egg-white, with blood stains, crimson blood that would remain in both the memories of the Colonel and the Mexican. They had both run out of ammo, only the Mexican had run out a little before the Colonel, had it been the other way, possible the Colonel would be dead, but it wasn't the other way, it was as it was, not the past, not the future, as one would like it to be in his or her favor, but the present, as it was all was in the present. In the mist of battlethe dark-macabre battle, they had both somehow found additional bullets, but the Colonel never put them in his gun, and Garcia, although he did, it was tucked away in his belt, under his poncho.

And so ended, the mêlée (the fight), and when they had met again at the bridge, the encounter was over, at least for twelve-hours more; at least in the minds of the two warriors, at least in the two warrior's minds, hearts and characterssouls. Nature has a burning pull, and for them, neither one could or would fight unless the odds were equal, unless fate demanded it, it was just part of their nature; plus, it was Christmas Day.

Poet/Author Dennis Siluk http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Secrets To Getting Steady Work In The Film Industry

2009-02-25T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Ronald K. Armstrong

Today I was in high demand. I've been running around doing pitches and presentations. It's great to have the phone ringing constantly. In fact, as soon as I got out of one pitch session I got a call from another company who luckily was just around the block. So I ran right over to them.

After I was finished I then had to jump on a train to head downtown to meet with a major media company who is developing video for the Internet. They are doing some really incredible things. But this article is not about me... it's about you. I want you to know that I am committed to helping you achieve your goals and YOUR DREAMS! That's right; we all have dreams in this business. Never give up on them. One of my dreams was to bring back the ancient form of acting. And thanks to the all mighty creator I am now able to teach the most powerful form of acting known as the Kamitic Acting System.

Now, I am able to touch people's lives and help them get moving. With that said let's talk real quick about you getting work. As I have said it's great to be in demand. The industry is about cycles but you can whether the storms if you have what I call, "Peripheral Skills". What this means in a nutshell is to be multi-talented. Don't just focus on one thing try and have a secondary skill set. Not long ago I met the most incredible actress who now stars in her own TV show. Not only is Dana a kick butt actress, but she can create awesome websites AND can even draw the most amazing things. She is truly gifted. Aside from her TV show she is always working. Her phone rings so much I can hardly get a minute with her.

I want you to understand that this should be the norm for folks like us. There is a certain sense of power and pride that comes from knowing you can get any job out there. When I interview with companies it is always from the perspective of YOU NEED ME MORE THAN I NEED YOU! To paraphrase Paris Hilton, "That's hot right?" So you are probably wondering how to do this. How do you become a hot commodity on the market. Well, first you have to understand that no matter what your field is you CAN be the one they want! No matter if you are an actor, filmmaker or writer. The real secret to this is to diversify your efforts while staying in the same industry.

For starters you should have more than one resume. Each resume should highlight a different aspect of your talents. If you are an actor then you should have many different headshots and not just two which is the conventional thinking. Having different resumes and targeting different positions and companies will without a doubt keep food on your table. My friend Charles started out as an indie director. The guy struggled to pay bills and finance his films. Then all of a sudden he found that he had an interest in cinematography. From there he started purchasing his own equipment and shooting stuff on the side. One day he got a call out of the blue from a small production company. They saw his work and wanted to hire him to DP their commercial! From there on end the work started rolling in.

Charles even got a full time job teaching film. So the point is to be versatile. Become a jack of all trades. Of course have one main target goal but also have peripheral goals in mind. Members of our organization, the RKA Cinema Society, are encouraged to have cross-functional career objectives. The type of narrow minded, one dimensional, do or die attitude can put one in the poor house real fast. Peace!

Ronald K. Armstrong is a noted filmmaker and author. He is president of the RKA Cinema Society and creator of the revolutionary Kamitic Arts System. http://www.kamiticartssystem.com

Technique Of Watercolor Painting Wc07 Planning

2009-02-24T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by John Blenkin

Plan or not to Plan? The outcome of the painting will be vitally affected by the decision to either plan the work or starting head down without any idea how the painting will finish.

It is not a matter of preference but of personality. To a great extent the subject will decide the issue. A painting of a building a design a specific place - a record painting a commissioned painting will usually lead the painter into an approach where pre-planning naturally results.

In this type of work pre-planning will reduce errors and the target idea will more likely to be realized. Any measured work - enlarging - portraiture anything technical animal bird or plant illustrations are usually best planned beforehand. Professional work to deadline is a pre-planning must.

In general where the subject of the painting has to conform to the requirements or standards of others or to a specified known standard for a fee by a certain date it is best to pre-plan.

In this context the painter will no doubt feel less creative but the painter must have the technique and professional approach to match demands.

This is especially true for the watercolor painter as reduced errors means fewer destructive demands on the paper ground and less repainting over previously washed out work. Please note that a professional buyer will approve the work by viewing it as it were dead without glass - mount and frame.

Overpainting dulls the light reflecting back through the pigment. Without overpainting the work looks fresher and the craft of it looks easier and under greater control in your hands as a result to the painter's credit.

There are probably three main valid approaches to painting in any medium!

PRE-PLANNED
MAINSTREAM
FREE CREATIVE

Each one of these is strictly valid in pure painting terms because the approach is determined by the nature of the project. The end dictates the way forward.

In passing it is wise to note that with watercolor painting on paper each painting should first be covered by a blue tint all over wash. This blue tint wash kills the red inherent in white watercolor paper. Even the whitest watercolor paper will be improved by this slight blue wash. The tint should be so light that it seems to be pointless doing it. Use a blue that has no red in it.

PRE-PLANNED

These paintings do not appear to be particularly creative - they are! This is a good way to acquire the essential geometry involved in transposing small images from one surface and enlarged onto to another. The process comes in handy too when paintings of imagination need a structure to bring them to fruition.

Planning is not only the best option for some types of painting but also perhaps the only option. Graphic works for publication on short time scales are the norm in the printing industry. These works have to be planned and even the way of achieving the desired result be decided in a flash. There is no waiting around for days mulling over the philosophy of the issue because others are waiting to make money out of the work you are commissioned to paint.

Often the idea of a painting changes during the work. If this happens too often more thought should be given before committing time an effort to your projects. Careful planning brings focus and therefore clarity to the final painting and this is conveyed unconsciously in the quality of the work.

For the general painter a coordinated grid method is used to transform a small image into an enlarged exact scale drawing to become a guide for a larger watercolor painting.

This system uses a very light pencil grid of convenient unit size drawn on the watercolor paper. The image ultimately to be painted on it is added in outline either by hand or ruled or both. This outline drawing provides an exact line where the different colors are to be applied as a wash or as a series of watercolor detail areas.

Soft pencil drawn grid lines when erased later will leave immovable smudge marks. Too hard a pencil will scribe into the paper surface and show up later as dark colored lines. It is best to use a very hard pencil frequently sharpened to a very fine point. Practice before starting the work.

The grid lines help to judge if the relationship between the features in the original image are matched on the larger drawing and is a correct to scale transfer. This must be assured before any watercolor is added otherwise it will be necessary to start the work again.

The size of the grid spaces drawn for the original image is determined by the complexity of the detail.

The vertical grid LINES are lettered across from the top left corner beginning at A and continued through the alphabet to the end of the top vertical grid line.

The first top horizontal grid line starts at the top left hand corner and is denoted 0. As the first vertical grid line too starts from the top left hand corner and it too is denoted A the top left hand corner of the grid is denoted by coordinates A0. From the top left corner the grid continues horizontally A0 B0 C0 D0 and so on. Vertically from the top left corner the grid down the left hand side is denoted A0 A1 A2 A3 and so on. Any point of the grid can now be defined by looking at its position in relation to the top and left hand sideline coordinates.

It is better and easier to make a square grid. This avoids errors in transfer. Also a square grid of whole numbers makes it easier to fix interpolations within the grid space.

Any straight or curved line or shape will be seen in relation to the allocated numbered and lettered coordinated gridlines.

The same grid to a larger scale is drawn on the watercolor paper ground to the larger size. If the original measurements and grid size have been carefully judged a simple increase to the new grid size from the original is all that needs to be done.

There is no need to draw all the gridlines - in sky areas for instance where there is no exact detail to be transferred only draw the position of the gridlines at the edge with their letters.

Remove the grid lines and unwanted marks from the paper with a putty rubber before painting. If the lines have been finely drawn on the paper surface they can be easily removed without damage to the paper.

The above method is ideal for painting a large picture from a small photograph. I use a thin piece of glass sheet over the photograph on which to draw a thin inked-in grid direct using a technical pen. To protect the ink from rubbing off apply back adhesive transparent film. This is like sheet grade invisible tape. Protect the edge of the glass with paper drafting tape. This is lipped over the face of the glass and back of the photo up to but not touching the grid lines on the face. The coordinates top and sides are marked in ink on the tape.

This method is ideal for Architectural building renderings and perspectives still life portraits lots of mechanical drawing subjects such as cars large paintings of birds. The preparatory outline work is part of the technique. It is not a necessary evil to be got through as quick as possible. It is an enjoyable part of the whole process.

MAINSTREAM

This general type of painting is based on a combination of feeling - reason and logic to inspire the painting. It is the way most painting is realized a jumble of many things brought together with a subject finally emerging from unrelated ideas having titles added later to justify their political correctness.

Get to know the language and vocabulary of painting. This includes color balance - color temperatures and the various forms of perspective such as in the use of line tone and color. Paintings need to be subjected to intellectual checks during painting by assessing the balance of colored areas of the painting in percentage terms of brightness and average tonal value. Understand the meaning of balance between areas of the painting in terms of its effect as seen by the viewer at normal medium and close distance and in relation to the inner perspective construction of the work.

The avoidance of black and white is very important in watercolor painting but it is important too to know if and when the any rule can be broken. The tonal balance of areas of the painting is vital and how high and low tonal density of colors both warm and cool affects balance. Another issue is the use of color of plane surfaces when these appear both in and out of shade. Further it is useful to know how to direct the attention to the focal point of the picture by each aspect of technique. It is important too to know how to use a range of colors sympathetic to each other to avoid unwanted inexplicable tensions in the picture .All of these have to be automatically applied within a working discipline of Technique.

These disciplines are necessary to produce any type of painting. The medium of watercolor painting shows any deficiency in technique rather more than any other painting medium. Those whose technique is complete and dependable can ignore technique if by doing this they gain extra power in their work.

FREE CREATIVE

Free creative work allows its justification to emerge as it were by itself. Here the painter must break loose from ego to free the mind from its blocks and limitations for the painting to be ready to be painted by someone or something other than the painter. The picture flows into the painter and onto the ground from surrounding energies.

The best way to do this is to bring the mind to a point. Remember to relax - not to tense up or prejudge anything or anyone in any way. There should be no sense of what the painting is or should be about. Sense the moment. Mix the paint and let it flow as and where it will.

Paint whatever the energy in the arm guides you paint.

If you are really free and devoid of achieving or prejudging or critical of what you are doing you will be completely and utterly refreshed when you are through. Pure creation never tires or depresses but restores.

Paintings are truly finished after the Title Signature Date and Picture Sequence Number have been added.

My very best wishes.

John Blenkin is a retired architect and is now a watercolor painter and article writer. His interests are wide covering both technical and philosophical subjects. He also writes online articles on the technique of watercolor painting. http://www.freefolios.com/ foka@spidernet.com.cy

The Ticket Economy

2009-02-23T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Trelian Gada

Tickets to events have always been in demand especially if they involved participation of people in the limelight be it concerts, movies, games, shows you name it. The bigger the event the greater the demand. For blockbuster events, the sell out times can be as low as the time taken to make a cup of tea or coffee.

Some big ticket vendors have come up with bookings through the telephone using operators numbering more than a thousand, despite which the tickets are sold out in minutes after the sale begins.

About 25% of all tickets sold are sold through the internet for most events. Booking tickets through the internet is a competition not only against the other audience but also against the "scalpers" (people who sell tickets on the venue for a premium, a black market or illegal operation). The scalpers tend to pick up tickets for the seats that would have a good demand, and sometimes these seats fetch them upto ten times the face value.

Never go by the advertised capacity, they never reflect the actual number of tickets available. The artists, advertisers, sponsors, VIP's establishment- all have their quotas reserved. Also there is the promotional quota that awards tickets to winners of competitions as prizes.

Despite all the above odds, the show must go on. The concerts, the shows and the games will go on and the fans will go on with their umpteen tricks to get tickets and secure their seats.

Internet resources for event ticketing are abundant. Atmtix is one and aims at being a complete resource for ATM services and ticketing needs of individuals. It is not a ticket brokering website but is only a resource that puts all aspects of ticketing together in one package.

Robot

2009-02-22T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Seamus Dolly

With the release of I ROBOT, one is immediately reminded of Professor Ken Warwick, and the research or experiments that he was involved in. His chip implant in 1998 was the source of some curiosity and debate. His building was retro-wired to interact with his movement or position within it. Doors could open and lights were configured to illuminate his journey throughout. So, his environmental control was somewhat extended, in this case to the limits, or within the perimeter of a building. His influence was increased. It was more about Cyborgs though, which is a robot and a human, in one or many configurations.

We've all seen the capabilities of robots, some being used for rugged forklift duties and warehouse housekeeping. Various sensory equipment made it possible. The modern automobile, is a simple or common example of automation, from welding tasks to its' final colour scheme. In as far as possible, direct human manipulation must be removed. Whether we like it or not, we are too expensive to maintain, for manual or repetitive tasks anyway. The robot has few harassment and injury issues. The injury still happens but it more electro-mechanical and less emotional. H.R. or human resources departments tend to ignore robotic procedures because, as the name would suggest, they have no business with non-humans regardless of output. Where predictive and preventative maintenance policies are enforced, down time is decreased, with no sympathy for human conditions. Christmas holidays and other human conditions or situations, including birthdays, births, deaths, anniversaries, general and specific maladies, are essentially removed from production schedules.

It doesn't mean that we are becoming dispensable, but rather our skills must be upgraded to compliment and implement different technologies.

The very first robot that I saw was a welder, or specifically, a robotic CO2 (Carbon Dioxide) welder. While local unions were not happy about its' use, it was explained to them than if uptake was not allowed, then any competitive edge would be lost. They agreed. Twenty years later, such robots are fully accepted as nobody wants to do such repetitive work. Such personnel are moved above the relatively mundane duties of the welder. Not that welding jobs are easy or in any way petty, and in fact, are jobs that must be done right. Human welders are entirely necessary for one-off jobs, where commerce determines, and can be often be better as conditions vary.

Robots can now ascend and descend stairs, which is difficult enough. Maintaining balance with the centre of gravity ever changing is the primary obstacle. We didn't get bumps on our heads solely because we were young, and having to learn such a skill at ten years of age, wouldn't make it much easier. Action, reaction, assessment times, and motor control running together, applies to us as much as a metallic man or woman, if token genders should be assigned.

Some believe that any real intelligence advances can only occur if the machine can think for itself, in a similar way that we aspire to. This word processor makes a reasonable attempt. Of course, there is rarely a need for autonomous thought in a production environment, and the simpler the better. While arms, hydraulic, pneumatic or electric, depending on it's application or desired action, carry out duties to precise tolerances, there is no special reason for them to learn any thing more than that.

Surgeons can perform operations from remote locations, which is, in itself, fantastic. Jet lag and travel time can be forgotten. Though the "hand on" reliability is a little compromised, surgery in cases where skilled individuals are scarce and time is doing what it always did, is considered beneficial. The faith in technology, and the technology itself, needs the very time that critical patients hope for.

Science fiction writers and the creativeness that they possess should probably have minor engineering input. They seem to be able to stand outside (which is their stance, anyway), and view matters with some imagination and objectivity. It could only happen where there is a long-term research and development policy. It is sometimes the case that an outside input, however unqualified, can present a sort of solution. Of course, they wouldn't be capable of seeing it through, but can be blessed by a type of indifference and passion that is imagination. They wouldn't be "locked down" by the daily regimen that is production. This is often done with non-executive directors who are given a position, but not a thirty to fifty hour position. A new or different view, and of course, any influence that they bring with them, is the objective.

An inorganic tool for simple repairs of an atomic reactor, or similar human-aggressive environment, has to be a good thing. It's sad to still see men and women still, losing life, limbs and other functions, in global battlefields. The bizarre thing is that without such loss, impact would be less. If we could deploy robots (which we can), we would have to go further, and loss would still be the case.

Anyway, missions to areas that don't support life, like Mars, couldn't be examined to the same degree without physical samples being mechanically collected. Who better to do a dirty job, but an emotionless arrangement of metals and non-metals, plastics, composites, sundry wiring and piping of similar materials, with an ability to follow instructions?

Not that all robots are considered to be emotionless. This state can be engineered, it seems, but hardly carries the same weight. Emotional Intelligence has been achieved to some degree, with frowns, smiles and reactions to tone, quantifiable. Okay, so you might become attached, the likeness is so close, but you then have to question your own humanity and perception of it, where you find it to be equal. That is hardly a bad thing, though.

A robot needs power as we need it, through food. A robot has a life span, not unlike us. A robot needs engineering and we're not new to this either. Most robots have less to say; what can I say?

About The Author

Seamus Dolly is at www.CountControl.com and www.smartwebmarketer.com/cgi-bin/d.cgi/seamus/.

His background is in engineering and analogue electronics and his studies include A+ and iNet+.

Dance The Beautiful Art

2009-02-21T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Michael Russell

It is natural to want to dance and move whenever we hear music. With the drum beat of a military march, we want to march in time; the smooth circles of a waltz have the power to make us feel like twirling forever; and a lullaby makes us lilt our bodies into sleep. Dance is a natural expression and is a natural response to music that is heard externally or sometimes but rarely, it is in resonance with the sounds of inner joy, to which only the individual is privy.

Most people wish to dance, or enjoy dancing. It is a feature in the life of most people throughout the world who reveal the differences in their culture through the different types of music and the different styles of dance movement they develop in their traditional art. There is a different between the dance of a country barn dance or western line-up with a country band and the rap dancing with its accompanying intonation and sounds; between the tap dancers metallic beat to a popular tune and the ballet dancers soft pointed feet describing the patterns of a classical piece; the passionate guitar and strong heel beats of a Spanish flamenco and the smooth swirls of an Austrian circular waltz to the strains of a violin.

Music provides the powerful influence which we seek to express in movement and dance. In addition, if our own emotions are moved, we can convey how we feel by injecting our emotions into our physical movements. If music uplifts us, we may dance but wish we could fly and the best we can do is to raise our arms and elevate our bodies from the floor as best we can. If the music on the other hand is sombre, we would rather dress in garments of grey and drop our heads to respond in heavy deliberate movements to show what the music intends.

For the professional dancer, it is music which dictates the mood and demands that a dancer surrenders his body to that music, not just for his own pleasure, but for the sake of a wider purpose. Then the dancer surrenders to music as if it were the conductor, as he seeks to make his body its complete or final instrument .The dancer can only surrender to the music if he wishes his body to serve to express its influence. To dance to a rhythm without conscious thought is a pure reaction - it is not an art.

Dancers are agents of the music - there to express something of the spirit of his inspiration of the composer. If we like the music we are asked to dance to, there is an easy relationship and harmony between the music, the source of it and our bodies. It is all in tune and the dancer can add the ingredient of his own intelligence and pour his feeling through his body language. If we are not attracted to the music then the dancer is a mere puppet. In the future, to use a dancer without him having conscious desire to express the music will be seen as dancer abuse! It is not a true and fine example of the art form at all unless music and dancer are as one.

If we hear discordant sound and it is the fashion to move to it, one must be very skilled or insensitive or perhaps both in wishing to express chaos and discord. Life's real discordant notes are only too well known in the reality of living without having to bold type it all. Modern times are difficult with little rhythm, melody or harmony in any popular music.

In discothèques the lighting makes jagged vibrations through the chaos and to a dancer who is sensitive to the loveliness and the harmonies of inspired music, it creates an atmosphere which is unintelligent, purposeless and insane. There can be no reason why such occasions are not banned because of the noise, so as to preserve the health and the hearing of everyone concerned. The brains of all who participate are damaged - to what extent, only the future will reveal. Participants do not deserve the name dancer but often are enslaved by drugs and the hypnotic drum beats.

Modern music is not harmonious. Therefore a dancer's body must become jerky and strained, stretched to an extreme tension, tested beyond its inherent strength, making demands which are acrobatic, exaggerated, unnatural and unattractive in the main. Beauty is the ingredient which is neglected, even forgotten. And in judging the result, anyone witnessing such movement to such music may gasp at techniques which extend the boundaries of body capabilities - but which leave the audience empty.

Music is best understood as food for the soul. This was and remains the classical approach to the art which was dedicated to either the purpose of delighting the listeners, telling a story, honouring a greater person, state, ideal , expressing a nation's spirit, or in spiritual dedication to religious worship and the glories of God. Music was an expression which served to enrich the listeners. At its best and most powerful, music can stir the spirits of thousands, who for a time experience the pleasure of a feeling of unity beyond the diversity in human life.

The dancer depends upon the music. Dance is music made visible!

Dance has always been a part of human culture and will no doubt remain so. In past eras, as in ancient Egypt, dancers were trained in the temples, dedicated to the gods, their art was sanctified and they were used within the powerful ritual which were used in ceremonies and outer rituals to involve the people and to amass group thought in prayer. In the ancient Indian traditions the temple dancers held also a place of respect and their music and dances were dedicated to the gods.

In ancient Greece and in fact, in all ancient civilizations, it was the same - there were the temple dances and there were the folk dances of the general populace.

In our western culture we have no such equivalent system which allows each to have its place. In fact in our Christian religion and worship there is no place and never one has been considered, for dancing.

So in our way of life, we are the poorer. We only have resort to the dancing of the masses - that which only expresses the spirit of the people - and this is always uninspired. But we have our classical music which has served to inspire many millions of people throughout the world. So in this, we have a 'conductor' but where are the dancers who can make their bodies instruments capable of expressing the exquisite sounds and spirit of such glorious arrangements of notes? There are thousands of dancers with skill but have they attunement to the spirit to fulfil the needs of the art?

There are many musicians trained in classical music and many dancers trained in classical dance. Surely they can support one another to act as twin arts in creating something really beautiful?

Michael Russell

Your Independent guide to Dance

Cold Kindness Chapters 1 2 And 3 Dieburg Germany

2009-02-20T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Opening:

The Year is 1960, spring in Dieburg, Germany.

He'd answer. He'd answer at length. The more he answered, the madder he became, the more indignant he become. (No, he was moody himself at times, drinking, 'now look at him,' she'd say. No, he didn't see his own moodiness; a blind spot to Adam's mind. But love puts up with many faults of a person and seems to have its own power to do so, but it saps a person sooner or later.)

'I tried, I really did, can't put up with it any longer. I can be a friend. She is the queen of emotions.' That is what he'd say at night when he was not with her, when he was thinking about what he should do about their relationship, but it mostly came out during his drinking.

It was 10:30 PM; as usual, Carmen was half lit up from booze. In her brain every thought was of that damn tower Adam told himself (along with calling it her: 'obsessive-compulsive hysterical tower'). Or so he had learned as time went on. Yes it was her Turm, her tower, he said a hundred times to himself. She was like a person in prison; it was not heredity, the alcoholic part of her, and him, no predisposition to it. He used it for party time, she used it to calm her down, to escape, yes an acquired taste, and for the right kick. The kick, the kick, everyone wants that, you know: the kick. But she got more depressed with it, similar to neuroses, or maybe it was. It helped her to sleep she said, escape from the pain of the nightmares and headaches. The damn stuff was so accessible, it was everywhere she alleged. She even would sing a song, a rime looking to or at the tower, sing it as if she was in another world, Adam heard it a thousand times: "Spricht der Turm: Tod, der Tod ruft' (The tower speaks: death, death is calling.)"

She really didn't care for it, alcohol that is; she used it because it was available. For five years she used it on an increasing regularity though. It became part of her temperamental makeup, part of her pessimism.

But she would have said (and I would have agreed), Adam liked to drink also, and thus, they became a team in drinking: which brought on fighting at times; a curse to one another. Most folks are born with a kind of repugnance for the stuff, but it can become habitual nonetheless, when forced down and into the system, and it seemed Adam had his days of doing just that, and so did Carmen.

She was now sitting in her apartment drinking booze, singing her 'Turm' song, as was Adam in his apartment drinking: both thinking about the trip they had to Garmisch last winter, both alonethe relationship was changing, things were changing, winter had ended. It was as if, or became so, as if after a while, Adam became her reason for existing. When they tried to stay away from each other, which they were trying to do at present: every minute they were away, they simply thought of each other all the more. She was living in an alcoholic nightmare and a fogy day-dream; both becoming codependent.

[1960] The mist had come over the 12th-century tower (as often it did) across the street in the park where a shallow streama tributary from a nearby riverit gently and silently crept down and through the park, and then faintly down and through the city of Dieburg, leaving the Gothic Tower behind; the tower that looked like a grand guard post of a millennium past, overlooking the small four archer park. Not far from the tower was a play area for children: a teeter-totter and a set of swings, no more than that, quite small; not many but a few children would visit this little park. And several feet from the stream was a bench, the only one in the whole parkthat's all, no more, not even a tree stump to sit on, just one bench: for the old folks I'd expect, but it was used by Carmen quite a lot: to think, to ponder on, deliberate by, for conscious planning, the park was her sanctuary you could say. The water in the stream, its sound was always calming for her, and in summer and spring the plush grass was exhilarating with its several shades of greenit produced a most alive affect for her sprit; and I must add, the park's muscular tower looking over the cozy little square, had become her golden chalice, her fixation, her passion.

Carmen lived on the second floor of a duplex right across the street from the Tower Park (and we shall call it that for now on, Tower Park); when she looked out her window she could see the tower, the whole park, the street below her, and the steeple of the church up the block; the meat market up the street to the north, a half block away (on the other side of the park, she could see also).

She had a small apartment, perhaps: conceivably close to six-hundred square feet, total. The kitchen consumed a hundred square feet of it I would guess, and the bathroom which was connected to the main room, was a living room and a bedroom combined (she had a daybed in it) was her main accommodation. She had a television on one side of the room, right across from her daybed; a window overhead, by her bed, and it was quiet and cozyas she liked it.

As she swung the heavy Iron Gate open to the premises, sleepily she walked out into the fresh spring air; she walked into the park, as she did each morning before going to work. A scent of the green foliage filled her sanity, her smell, her nose, all drifting to her lungs with a sweetened sent to the air, air she liked; her eyes were trying to open up wider, wider, wider to greet the day (her wide stunning eyes): she didn't sleep well last night, she seldom did. She found herself wiping all the night out of her eyes, wiping the dreams into oblivion, like always; wiping the nightmares into the unconsciousness: yet she knew what most of them were anyway, they were those returning kind, the ones that seem to put her into a catatonic posture at times.

The park, the Tower Park was glowing as she held a cup of hot, very hot coffee in her hands, sipping, slightly sipping it, as she walked. The black coffee, black, with the richness of fresh laid black dirt; the coffee against a new blue sky, seemed to mix unequal, in her mind; thus, she murmured: 'from darkness comes light, comes light from darkness,' she whispered to her mind's eye. Then she drifted to the birds, which could be seen and heard singing their little duets as she strolled the grounds, just waking, that's all, just waking up to greet the day, and clearing her mind from last night. Feeling the tranquility life had to offer. She was grateful, very, very grateful, that the dark thinning night had come and gone; the gift of sleep she did not take lightly: an immense gift from God, lest any man lose it, and have to find out the hard way. It is the only time you are alive, yet dead, so she confessed to herself.

As the morning sun now had risen high, a yellow path seemed to reflect through the trees and bushes: beams of the sun ate up the dew that had encircled the park, gave the tower a cape of sorts: the thick brick heavy looking medieval tower, with several thin sliced windows, carved a foot deep into its torso, could be seen sporadically in several places around the tower. The roof looked more similar to an Asian bamboo hat, but the tower was as beautiful as it was deadly to her.

She put her hands deep into her pockets, felt the keys to the Pizzeria [Guesthouse] where she was the manager; along with pizza's beer and hard liquor drinks were also served there, along with sandwiches; nothing fancy. She had to open it today, had some accounting to do that should had been done the night before. To be frank, her mind was not really on the Pizzeria, rather on a number of other things, in particular, her mother came to her mind, who lived in Frankfurt, when they both would meet on a weekend, that was before she met Adam, they'd go to a fancy guesthouse, order Rippchen mit Kraut (pickled pork chops with sauerkraut); and Haspel (pigs knuckles) and Handkas mit Muski (strong, smelly cheese with vinegar oil). And then they'd talk to her mother's friends from before the war, Albrecht Durer and Karl Klee, play some cards and then drift off to bed. Her mother only smoked when she was in the city, and would ask, "Eine Zigarette, bitte?" and she not want to give the cigarette to her, but like always they'd smoke it together, as if it was something special they'd do together before drifting off to sleep.

But now Carmen was not seeing her mother as frequent as she did before; partly because of her ongoing relationship with Adam and partly because of her ongoing dilemma with her sleep and nightmares, and its progress intensity.

Her assistant, Gertrude, a waitress in her early thirties, and friend, would come in around 2:00 PM, which was the time it officially opened anyways, and Günter Gunderson, a man in his late fifties, would show up around noon to turn on the gas stoves, and ovens, do some kitchen work, and make sure the tables were set up for Gertrude.

Carmen Schmidt, was only twenty years old, well, almost twenty-one but not quite; I suppose you could say she looked older for her age, and mature, surely business like, and was sharp with the numbers. About five foot five inches tall, almost a perfect weight for her height, not thin, nor fat, with dark brown hair, almost black; to most new guests at the restaurant, she looked reserved by all appearances, clean and mindful. She had deep pitted blueness to her eyes, almost hypnotic, should one stare too long into them.

As Carmen sat back in her chair in her small office, in the back of the kitchen, and to the side, she put the financial books in front of her, then started examining the debits, credits, and opening up mail, along with looking at checks and counted the money in the cashbox she had locked up in the side of her desk. It was 9:00 AM, she'd make the deposits later, and she always made them in the morning because it was too late when she closed the place at 11:00 PM.

She was sitting at her desk, which was by the side of a window, she liked windows, she liked the day time, the morning dew. It was a few nights ago she could see Jupiter, a red disc in the sky, a ting melodramatic for her, if not poetic; it came to her mind as she lit up a cigarette from her cigarette case and lighter; took in a big drag, sucked it inside of herdeep inside of her, all the way to her stomach: let it out slow, as if she was trying to capture the moment, and the full impact of the cigarette, its comforting elements, its calming effect. At night, she often ended up sitting by the window looking at the tower, the sky, the stars, checking out where the planets were with the planisphere [which helped her put stars within her reach], thus calculating, finding the planets with her stellar projections, in effect, she could predict sunrise and sunsets; discover constellations, identify the stars. Take her mind off the tower and other disturbing things.

As she looked out the morning window, the mist had not risen all the way in this part of the city, her vision was a bit blurred as she gazed at the morning people busily going to work, some leaving work from the hospital nearby, those on the night shift; thus, trying to rush home for a good morning sleep.

She could now taste the cigarette and coffee in her stomach, she didn't have any food in her stomach, for the most part, just smoke and coffee now; it came up from her stomach, to her throat and left an odor in her mouth, she pulled out some gum from her purse and chewed it.

[Aplomb] In solitude, she now looked at her watch, asked her self in German, "Wie spaet ist es?" it was 10:30 AM, she looked out the window a second time, at her green Volkswagen, which was sitting alongside of the building, she was proud of it. She caught a glimpse of the wooden sigh that read: 'Manager,' in white, so young for a manager she thought, but her mother knew the owner, and it helped; matter of fact it was beyond a doubt, her influence that got her the job. It looked so alonethe car, she thought, like her she deliberated; the darkness of the green reflected like a mirror, owing of course to the new waxed-in shine; 'good,' she murmured to herself: it was liken to a deep jade green, especially when the morning light hit it, like now; like now it glimmered. She put her sweater around her body tighter; the heat had not been on this morning and she had just turned it on as she walked in the building, it was sixty-three degrees in the café, several times she said out loud to herself in German, "Kahlt"(cold), trying to warm herself up.

She looked at the clock on the kitchen wall, it was now 11:30 AM; hence, she told herself: Günter, or Mr. Gunderson, would be coming in half an hour. She had started to day-dream, fussing over her small apartment, and if she should move, move away from the park and the tower, out of Dieburg completely; but she loved it all so much, except for the nights. But she had asked herself many times: would it be any different in any other city? And the answer was always, 'Nein,' and her apartment window gave her such a good view of everything, especially the tower.

She could hear now, a few horns by passing cars being honked, it seemed to push her out of her day-dreaming mode; finding herself in the dinning room with her paperwork. Often she'd move out of the office simply because Günter would be fussing about the kitchen and he'd clean her office also (in the process), and she'd want to be out of his way, or he'd not do a good job, thus, she put her papers and letters on one of the several tables in the dinning room to finish her reports and other requirements.

As she sat behind a long table, she looked about the dinning room: it didn't need a whole lot of cleaning she told herself. She had gone home early last night, and Gertrude must had done a quick job in picking up things, and Günter would follow up on it this forenoon.

Günter was an old veteran, a German soldier who fought in WWII with Hitler, or better put, within his Army, for he never met the Fuhrer personally, but had seen him give a speech once and thought him to be profoundly disturbed, although he didn't use those words, he felt them for it became clear towards the end of the war that Hitler had a dark, deeply personal agenda for Germany, which stifled Günter's motivation as a soldier. He had even read Mein Kampf; but the Third Reich did not produce the Master Race it promised, not at all, as Hitler projected; as he had gone over it a thousand times, everything was based on fear. That is how you get people to go to war, he told himself, again and again, but when you are young, such intelligence is not at ones finger tips. But he had paid his dues in an American concentration camp after the war, and that was that he felt, although Carmen was never sure how he took to her being Jewish.

Günter was a short robust kind of man with a flat kind of smile, if that is what it could be called: for lack of a better description. And she was never sure if he liked German-Jewsor Jews, like her; but then, she supposed he could not care one way or the other, a thought of the reverse; Gertrude didn't mind, for the owner whom was Adolph Schulman, was a German Jew just like Carmen, whom lost everything in the war, and somehow put together this little pizzeria establishment. The war had just been over fifteen years. I mean, it wasn't all that far in the past: painful memories were still well imprinted and alive in the residents of Dieburg and throughout Germany, for the most part, especially towards American GI's stationed there.

There was a sound at the front door, Carmen glanced, it was Günter, with his fumbling of the keys, trying to open the door; he fumbled all the time, it was expected of him, and had he not, Carmen would have had to look twice to make sure it was him, she could see the top of his bald head: not completely bald, but close to it.

He came in.

After a moment, shutting the door, he saw Carmen, as he'd expected to see her, when she'd go home early the night beforeall dilapidated, warn out.

"Hallo!" he said to Miss Schmidt, aloud; a smirk or a smile came on his face as he looked at her halfway moving toward the kitchen; Carmen could never differentiate his smirks and smiles, for to her, they both looked the same to her.

Günter quietly put on chintz and started to do his chores. He turned on the oven and the gas stoves, wiped the varnished-wooden tables down. He had little time for chitchat, or idol dialogue, and normally would not be found seeking any out. He was a man of little education, but it seemed in life, wherever he put his foot, things turned out alright for him, that being, he survived the war, the biggest of his feats. He told himself he didn't mind working for a Jew, as long as he got paid, and a young pretty Jewess at that. But he was never sure of how she felt about him, so yes, he was guarded a little, and felt that keeping to him was safer for all involved at the restaurant, for the most part anyhow. He lived with the thought: some people come to work to work, others to play, and he wasn't the other, and he came for work. He knew her father was killed by German SS-men, in 1944 when she was just four-years old, so he figured he had good reason to remain guarded. It was his philosophy: a woman either hated you or liked you, there was not much in-between with them. All in all, he simply did not want to resurrect any kind of discontentment within her, and he knew it didn't take much to do that. He was hired several years before she came aboard, I mean she was only the manager for less than a year now, and the boss was a friend of the family (her family that is), isn't that how it always is, he had told himself, but that's just the breaks: it's who you know, not what.

He now retreated to the back of the kitchen mixing up basil, pomadoro smelling its richness; as he stirred it, his pizza sauce; then he started thickening it with tomato past, cutting up more tomatoes to mix with the red sauce he had already put in the large bowl, a red sauce that was a ting hot to the tongue, with garlic, mushrooms, green peppers; in addition, he was sorting out meats, chopping up ham, sausage, pepperoni, putting them to the side, along with a verity of other ingredients to put on top of the pizzas; everything was preparation work for the moment; and along side of the dough he pulled out the cheesesthen Carmen came out in the walkway, the corridor to get some fresh air; the dinning room seemed to be getting overly warm now that the ovens were on, and the kitchen door open.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com See Dennis new book at http://www.bn.com "Last Autumn and Winter"

From Tehran To Damascus The Fangs Of Gods A Poem

2009-02-19T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

There are kings in the lands I speak of, and their gods have hoofs and brutish brows, for they and they love there traitorous hourswith root steel teeth, and fed on blood, a hundred hands they cut off to get their way, and lead their nations down the road of nothingnessto Hell's pale grave.

Downward starts their road, and shapes of death, to and fro they go restless, yet not told: are the horrors and despair they will inflict, infest, and toss to the air, and then again, one can see ages of tears, lips wailing, waiting; comethee, the world should know by now, Tehran to Damascus is crouched in the shadows, ages of tears will come from thee, the world should know by now, you will never be contentcontent with less than all.

You are the fangs of the hoofed-gods, thy boastful foe; the world's blood is like honey to youtalk no more for you lean blindly on Allah, and think He is your burden, and squeeze Him into your dark soul (perhaps He is like you, if so, if He be as boastful, who then is the God of love?).

Alas, the coming bliss of certain doom, fates demand you will sleep before you outwit the Jew, and heaven be no refuge for the wolf you are; yet I fear, should man delay, it will be his sad day: to your glory.

#1548, Written in Lima, Peru, 11/16/2006 Dedicated to the Presidents of Iran and Syria

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Dolls Harmless Toys Or Channels Of Terror

2009-02-18T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Sarah Todd

I've never been a doll person. When I was a child my dolls were discarded in favour of our pet dogs, and my siblings and I carted them around in various toy trolleys and prams. Fortunately my parents were partial to a small breed of dog called a Welsh Corgi imagine trying to fit a fully grown Rottweiler into a dolls' pram! My attitude towards dolls changed as I grew older, but instead of growing to appreciate them I became apprehensive. I blame this on my increasing awareness of the horror genre, and television shows like "Tales From The Darkside" that often featured malevolent dolls. I had a friend who had one of those dolls that blinked, and it absolutely terrified me. It always seemed to be watching us through pale, lifeless blue orbs in its head. Watching and waiting. Blinking yet sightless. Or was it?

In Helen Morgan's "The Witch Doll" the title character's hair grows when brushed. Her name is Tilda, and she's a doll who trades souls with humans.

Dolls have been an integral part of the horror genre for many years, and Hollywood has been a major exploiter of this phenomenon. There have been countless films about the voodoo religion, particularly voodoo dolls. Although their origin can be traced to identifying pressure points for use in healing it is thought that slaves exploited the myth as a form of self defence against ruthless slave owners. Thus the belief that a specific individual can be cursed through a voodoo doll was born, and exploited. Such is the popularity of the voodoo doll myth today that tourists can buy voodoo dolls in Port au Prince, Haiti the centre of the voodoo religion!

A more authentic use for dolls in voodoo is the practice of nailing the doll together with a shoe - to a tree near a cemetery. They are supposed to act as messengers between the lands of the living and that of the dead. However the myth of the voodoo doll appears to owe its origins to ancient Europe

The pagan cults used a poppet to symbolise the fertility of Nature during festivals and harvests. The person who produced the poppet was said to infuse the doll with life, and it was considered to be a little person. Poppets were also associated with witchcraft, and were often produced to cast a fertility, healing or binding spell upon an individual. These dolls were usually produced from natural products such as clay, a potato, a root or a tree branch, a corn shaft, an apple or a lemon. Paper and wax were also used, together with cloth that was usually filled with herbs. The poppet was then used for image magic, and whatever actions were performed upon the effigy would be effective to the human subject. Does this sound familiar? To counter the usually dreadful effects of the poppet a wax figure could turn the spell against the one who cast it, and counter the witchcraft if the evil was discovered in time!

A family boating on a lake find a large doll floating in the water. They rescue it, and soon wish they'd never laid eyes on it. Donna Lee Wallock's "Troll Doll" is possessed by evil spirits, and it's not long before strange accidents and unexplained deaths surround the doll.

It seems that dolls are usually produced in the female form, but they have also replicated the male gender. Scarecrows, corn dollies and the druids' wicker man are all male! Scarecrows evolved because of the need for farmers to discourage birds from disturbing their crops. In 1592 they were described as: That which frightens or is intended to frighten without doing physical harm. Literally that which scares away crows, hence the name - scarecrow. Originally fashioned in human form from straw, scarecrows were dressed in clothes with hats, with faces made of fabric with stitches providing the facial features. Today scarecrows are still widely used by farmers all over the world. Corn dollies were hollow shapes manufactured from the last sheaf of the crop at the end of a harvest. Ancient cultures believed that once a crop had been harvested the corn spirit would be homeless, and would leave the field to search for a new home. The corn dolly would remain in the fields during winter, providing refuge for the corn spirit until the new harvest was planted in spring.

The Wicker Man is an icon that has featured in modern culture. A tall humanoid shape, a Wicker Man was traditionally woven from flexible branches much like wicker furniture and usually burned at neo-pagan festivals to mark spring. It sounds horrific, but fire was originally considered a form or purification, and the act of burning a human effigy was to create a messenger to liaise between the community and its deity.

Popular culture has made the Wicker Man a symbol of horror. There's a famous British horror film called The Wicker Man, which places live sacrifices to burn inside the Wicker Man during a pagan ritual. A remake of this film, starring Nicholas Cage, is being released at time of writing this article. In the book "The Vampire Lestat" one of Anne Rice's characters describes witnessing the burning of a Wicker Man containing human beings during Roman times. Heavy metal band Iron Maiden recorded a song title "The Wicker Man".

The title character of Jane Toombs' "Hugger Doll" is a killer, something the hero's grandmother warned him about year earlier. Once he laughed at her superstitions; now he wishes he'd paid more attention!

The most famous doll in the horror genre today must be Chucky, aka Charles Lee Ray. Chucky's creator derived his name using three notorious killers: Charles Manson, Lee Harvey Oswold and James Earl Ray. Created for the "Child's Play" series of horror films, Chucky is a doll that is possessed by the soul of a killer. The doll begins killing people, and all sorts of storylines have evolved around him/it. Eventually the doll's face and body is maimed, his human girlfriend becomes a killer doll called Tiffany and the dolls manage to produce a gender-confused doll child called Glen/Glenda it's an extremely successful franchise, and to date there have been five Chucky films.

Dolls may look human, but their characteristics and emotions are a blank sheet, waiting for our imagination to bring them to life. Be they in films, books or music dolls are an intrinsic part of our culture. And from where I'm sitting their future looks bright.

The writer was born in Africa, and lived there for the first 38 years of her life. She worked in the world of public relations for over five years, running her own PR company and dealing extensively with the world of journalism and the print media. She is an author on http://www.Writing.Com/, a site for Writers. Her blog can be visited at: http://www.writing.com/authors/zwisis/blog

How To Draw People How To Use Proportions When Drawing People

2009-02-17T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Adam Reeder

Before you can draw a human figure with clothing, muscles, shading, etc., it is necessary to understand the basic proportions of the human figure. Proportions on a figure are simply how long the major anatomical parts of the body are, in relation to each other.

Let's examine the proportions of a healthy male human figure. Proportions change based on body type, age, sex and activity level. Our example healthy male figure will be seven heads tall. As a foundation, let's start with these lengths that are all the same. Each of them are two heads long.

1. From the middle of the kneecap to the bottom of the foot

2. The head of the femur to the kneecap

3. The elbow to the tips of the extended fingers

4. From the collarbone to just below the belly button

5. The width of the chest from shoulder to shoulder.

Tip #1 - The width of the hips is the same as the distance from the crotch to the knee.

Tip #2 - The length of the arm from the pit to the tip of the extended fingers is the same as from the base of the neck to the bottom of the buttocks.

Tip #3 - The arms should hang with extended fingers, to the middle of the thigh.

Tip #4 - The elbow should rest parallel with the bottom of the rib cage.

Tip #5 - The size of the foot should fit in between the base of the palm and the pit of the forearm.

Tip #6 - The hand from the base of the palm, to the tip of the fingers should fit on the face, from hairline to chin.

These proportions are critical to learn if you want your figures to look convincing. The reason this is essential is that you cannot place a bone or muscle group on a figure and have it be the wrong length without making your drawing stand out because it will look "off".

These proportions, along with good gesture, give you everything you need to layout a strong start to your human figure. These techniques along with many more are drawn out more in depth in the downloadable book "Learn To Draw Like A Pro", available here: How To Draw.

Adam Reeder is a professional artist and has been an artist for the last 15 years. He divulges his drawing secrets in the downloadable book, "Learn To Draw Like A Pro". This book is available on his website Learn To Draw Like A Pro.

Art Chatter Helping Art Communities Be Heard

2009-02-16T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Tom Maiaroto

Whether you're an artist or art advocate, Art Chatter is a valuable resource, devoted to the promotion of artists, galleries, and organizations of art communities in close proximity to Bucks County, Pennsylvania. Covered areas of Pennsylvania and New Jersey include; Bedminster, Chalfont, Doylestown, Dublin, Erwinna, Frenchtown, Lahaska, Lambertville, Milford, New Hope, Newtown, Perkasie, Stockton, Tinicum, Yardley, and other surrounding areas. Our goal is to add more to blend the art community together as the area is filled with history and art culture.

The roots of our nation were formed here and these towns are rich with historical and artistic history, which have put this area on the map and brought tourism to an all time high. Many famous artists and artistic movements have passed through the area. The Pennsylvania Impressionists movement is considerably the most well-known to this area. This style and tradition remains, and is still practiced by local artists. However, the area holds more than just impressionism and landscape paintings that many often overlook or don't associate with the area. Modernist movements exist, as well; yet, the area continues to produce all forms of art.

The Bucks County area is ideal for weekend getaways or day trips from neighboring cities. Many people aren't aware how close this rich culture is. Within ninety minutes from New York City, and perhaps under an hour from Philadelphia, one could easily find themselves in a completely different world. The picturesque country side is a good escape from the busy city life, and many visitors arrive from the cities to experience this. Most of the activity happens during the warmer months; however, even during the winter many festivities continue.

Art Chatter is growing and will soon host the world's largest database of local artists and galleries. The site offers a directory that continues to grow through visitor input. Artist and gallery information is found throughout the site as each has its own unique section. Included in these sections are directions to the galleries, contact information, hours, artwork, and more. One of the unique features of the site is the ability for local artists and galleries to log-in and edit their own sections. They are able to post biographies, artwork, and any information they wish. Acting more than a gallery guide, Art Chatter provides other pertinent information from local art communities. We offer local art news, gallery exhibitions, featured artists, featured galleries, a calendar of events, art books, and more. Visitors may submit information to the site for free inclusion. Art Chatter does not charge to list events, books, links, or other important information.

The internet has become one of the most affordable, easiest, and quickest forms of promotion. Art Chatter helps local art communities with utilizing this tool as best as possible while maintaining affordability. The site is new, but continues to appear in most of the internet's search engines. The site is optimized and targeted for optimal exposure to ensure qualified visitors peruse the site. Art Chatter also provides an advertising campaign for the artists, galleries, and organizations. Different forms of internet and print advertising are integral elements to this campaign. While the internet remains an invaluable tool, one must also take advantage of other venues for promotion, including print ads in publications, postcards, mailings, and more. Of course, there will always be word-of-mouth as well. But, through the continuous support of the artists and galleries listed on the site, forms of promotion otherwise unjustifiable or unaffordable to individuals is now possible.

Whether you're a local resident/artist/whatever that wishes to keep informed, or a visitor planning a wonderful trip full of art activities, Art Chatter is truly your best guide for the Pennsylvania and New Jersey area. Be sure to visit the Web site at ==>http://www.artchatter.com

Mystery Of The Cemetery Augsburg Germany L970in English And Spanish

2009-02-15T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Mystery of the Cemetery
(Augsburg, Germany, 1970: dedicated to Sarah)

Our mouths met, in a long, loving kiss. It was sunrise, the time I figured she'd tell me about the mystery of why she walked through the Cemetery all the time. Her name was Sarah McCarthy, or so she said her name was.

She had taken the dirt path into the old cemetery to meet me, we walked through the cemetery leaving the footpath behind us, walking now on the tall grass, it was quieter she said.

"I love you very much Ted!" the statement came quickly to my ears, filling me with joy:

"I love you, my husband! Always think of me!"

I rested well, this night. I had gone to bed early after Sarah left for her house and me to my apartment. I got up at daybreak and after my morning push-ups, and coffee, rode off on my bicycle, back to the cemetery to meet Sarah. There like always I left my bicycle, behind one of the big Jewish monuments by the brook that went through the graveyard; without more ado, I looked about for her. It was quite early and I could spot not the caretaker, or watchers of the cemetery anyplace, or at least they were no place visible. As I did so, with apprehension, I saw Sarah coming from the other end of the cemetery. She was walking, without avail. Down the path she continued in a state of dishevelment, or so it seemed. As I looked over and about the tall grass, it was quite evidentsomething, had passed here before hand, before my arrival.

In spite of my concern, I was overjoyed to see Sarah coming closer, I got the feeling there was a trap in progress though. Call it intuition, or momentary second sight, but I got the chills for some reason or another.

As she neared, minute by minute I found my affection growing; we had only been married for a week or so, and known one another a month, or less. I saw her clap her hands with delight at seeing me smile as she was now about three-hundred feet away.

In the mist of her walking, thus she stopped. A dim light shadow came upon her facepaleness, dread; and her brows went up. While she was standing, a fear grew upon me, lest being so far away and yet so close, might her enemies be nearby. She saw my distress, with a slow movement of her right hand, quick like a woman's wit, she signaled me to stay put, not to move. I heard her say:

"Don't be freighted for me, dear." (I was in the military, in Augsburg, Germany, a Buck Sergeant, living off base, on the German economy. She was a German Jew, and "I'd find out later, a spy; gathering bits and pieces of information, seemingly not much, but blueprints of worthless items to see if she could get away with it; kind of a priming I think for bigger things for the future). She then said, as three men seemed to come out of nowhere, backs to me; she had evidently seen them:

"These are men I need to talk to! They don't wish to get hold of you, but want to only to talk to me for five-minutes"lacking due respect for whomever they were, I started to leap forward with a stretched out leg, but stopped, and did as she wished. I would learn they were some kind of Secret Agents. (I would never find out from what government: American, German or Russian.)

That morning my heart beat heavily, as I saw the backs of these three men walking with Sarah across the tall grass of the cemetery towards a side entrance. I began to follow, but she insisted I do not, as she turned about a few times to see if I was following. Thus, I stopped for a moment, but started back up again. Their path lead up to a car parked along side the cemetery waiting, and that was the last time I saw her, and the beginning of a long investigation.

Notes: The author was in Augsburg, Germany in 1970; at a time when many things were happening along the East German boarders and throughout West Germany. It was not uncommon for spies to be drinking beer with the GI's at the American Hotel in Augsburg (from all three countries mentined in the story); at the hotel, the bar was in the basement, and across the street was a military compound; where the 1/36 Artillery was stationed. Even the press snooped about trying to find out who was who at times, at that bar. That is all I can say. 7/29/05

In Spanish

Misterio del Cementerio
(Augsburg, Alemania, 1970: dedicado para Sarah)

Translated by Nancy Peñaloza

-Nuestras bocas se encontraron, en un largo beso amoroso. Esto era al amanecer-, el tiempo que yo creí que ella me diría sobre el misterio de por qué ella anduvo por el cementerio todo el tiempo. Su nombre era Sarah McCarthy, o así fue como ella dijo llamarse.

Ella había tomado el camino no asfaltado dentro del viejo cementerio para encontrarme, nosotros anduvimos a través del cementerio dejando el sendero detrás de nosotros, caminando ahora sobre el alto follaje, estaba mas tranquilo, ella dijo:

"Te amo mucho Eduardo" la declaración vino rápidamente a mis oídos, sintiéndome contento: "Te amo mi esposo. ¡Piensa siempre en mi!"

He descansado bien, esta noche. Me había acostado temprano después de que Sarah. Fue a su casa y yo a mi apartamento, me levanté al amanecer y después de mis empujes de mañana y el café, monté sobre mi bicicleta, de regreso al cementerio para encontrar a Sarah, allí como siempre dejé mi bicicleta, detrás de uno de los grandes monumentos Judíos por el arroyo que iba a través del campo santo; sin mas alharaca , la busque. Era bastante temprano y yo no podía descubrir al vigilante o los cuidadores del cementerio por ningún lugar o al menos ellos no estaban en ningún lugar visible, Como hice así, con aprehensión, vi a Sarah viniendo desde el otro lado del Cementerio, ella estaba caminando, bajo el camino ella continuó en un estado de desconcierto, o así parecía, entonces yo busque arriba y abajo del alto follaje, era casi evidente- algo, había estado pasando ahí antes, antes de mi llegada.

A pesar de mi preocupación, me llené de alegría al ver a Sarah viniendo mas cerca, y sentí que había una trampa en curso. Llámele intuición, o una segunda vista momentánea, pero eso sentí por alguna razón.

Mientras ella se acercó, minuto a minuto yo encontré mi afecto creciendo; nosotros solo habíamos estado casados durante una semana o algo, y conocido el uno al otro un mes o menos. Yo vi palmear sus manos con deleite viéndome sonreír mientras ella estaba ahora casi a 300 pies lejos.

En la bruma de su caminata, más ella se paró. Una sombra débil de luz suave vino sobre la palidez de su cara, temor; y su frente se elevó. Mientras ella estaba parada, un miedo creció sobre mí, no sea que siendo tan lejano y todavía tan cerca, podía ser que sus enemigos estén muy cercanos. Ella vio mi angustia, con un movimiento lento de su mano derecha-, rápidamente como el ingenio de una mujer, me señalo para quedarme quieto sin moverme. La oí decir:

"No estés asustado por mi querido". (Yo estaba en la milicia, en Augsburg, Alemania, un Sargento raso, viviendo fuera de la base, en la economía alemana. Ella era una judía alemana , y yo averiguaría mas tarde, una espía; agarrado mordidas y piezas de información, aparentemente no mucho, pero los cianóticos de artículos sin valor para ver si ella podía escaparse con eso; una clase de primicias creo yo, para cosas mas grandes para el futuro). Luego ella dijo, como tres hombres parecían venir de algún lado, detrás de mí; ella claramente los había visto:

"estos son los hombres con los que yo necesito hablar" ellos no desean apresarte a ti, pero solo quieren hablarme por cinco minutos" careciendo del respeto previsto para quienes ellos eran, comencé a saltar con una pierna estirada, pero parado, y se hizo como ella deseó. Yo aprendería que ellos eran una clase de agentes secretos (yo nunca encontraría de que gobierno: americano, alemán ó ruso).

Esa mañana mi corazón golpeo pesadamente, como yo vi las espaldas de esos tres hombres caminando con Sarah a través del alto follaje del cementerio hacia una entrada lateral. Yo comencé a seguirlos, pero ella insistió que no, mientras ella volteaba unas pocas veces para ver si yo estaba siguiéndolos. Más, yo me paré por un momento, pero emprendí el viaje de regreso nuevamente. Ella caminó hacia un carro aparcado a lo largo de cementerio esperándolos y esa fue la última vez que la vi. Y el comienzo de una larga investigación.

Nota: El autor estuvo en Augsburg, Alemania en 1970; en un tiempo cuando muchas cosas estuvieron pasando a lo largo de Alemania Oriental. No era raro para los espías estar bebiendo cerveza con los de la GI en el hotel americano en Augsburg (de los tres países mencionados en la historia); en el hotel, el bar estaba en el sótano, y a través de la calle estaba el campo militar; donde la artillería 1/36 estaba estacionada. Aun la prensa husmeo tratando de averiguar quien era quien de vez en cuando en aquella barra, eso es todo lo que puedo decir.

Dennis Siluk, poet and Short Story writer. Over 50,000-people go to his site a year to see his travels, you are welcome to also, http://dennissiluk.tripod.com He has written one book on his travels, "Chasing the Sun," it is presently in the Barnes & Noble Stores, and on the internet book dealer sites

Water Balloons

2009-02-14T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Eddie Tobey

Used for fun and enjoyment, water balloons come in a wide range of colors. These water balloons are simply ordinary latex balloons that you use to decorate parties and events. However, this time, instead of air or helium filling it up, the balloon is packed and loaded with water. They are usually not filled to the maximum capacity because they are mostly used in water balloon fights. If you try to fill up these balloons to the maximum and use them, you might end up hurting another person.

Water balloons are usually used during outdoor parties and activities. Of course, it would not be wise to throw around these balloons indoors unless you want to create wet spots everywhere. The best venues for using water balloons would be your backyard, a swimming pool, the beach, or the playground. As long as you are using your water balloons outdoors, there should not be a problem.

Usually, kids and teenagers employ the use of water balloons during parties. They would throw these water balloons at each other and drench each other. If you are interested in holding an activity using water balloons, just make sure that you inform your guests and friends that they should bring swimsuits, wet suits, and extra clothing.

Because of the popularity of water balloons during outdoor activities and parties, people have been able to think up interesting games that make use of the balloons. The games include water balloon fights, water balloon baseball, and water balloon hot potato.

Be wary of the weather though. It would be great to use water balloons during the dry months. However, it would be unwise to play these games during the cold, winter seasons.

Balloons provides detailed information on Balloons, Hot Air Balloons, Advertising Balloons, Balloon Bouquets and more. Balloons is affiliated with Medieval Swords.

The Painter From Wabasha Street Part One Of Two Narrative Or Screen

2009-02-13T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Part one of Two Parts

The Painter from Wabasha Street [A Narration written for the screen]

Wabasha Street

About 1917, Tony comes to St. Paul, Minnesota by train. He has nothing but the cloths he is wearing, and $19.00 in his pocket, he was a tailor in Russia, and is 24-years old. His first day in the city, he is on the sidewalk on Wabasha Street downtown, not far from the Capitol, by a bar and café, with several city folks who loaf around that area and bar. A young man and girl are looking for work, they are Polish, been in the city for several months, Ella and her brother, Cory. The girl looks a little alarmed at the loafers as they are half drunk, and stumbling, talking loud, and full of spirits. Etc.

A car, all of a sudden beeps its horn by the group of people, and it alarms a horse and buggy, with an elder man, and young lady sitting on the seat. The horse jumps back, the car goes over the curve, and the girl falls out of the buggy, and into Tony's arms, almost, she did fall out, and he caught her before she hit her head on the ground, is more like it. Now everyone is looking at the old man, his buggy, the car that is damaged somewhat, it hit a tree. The horse now is settled, and everyone is catching their breaths.

The proprietor of the bar comes out to see what all the commotion is about. The driver of the car is a little drunk, and defies everyone, and says, "the buggy is too slow, shouldn't be on the street!" Not sure who he is talking to, he is not looking at anyone in particular, not the old man, more at the crowd and the girl I'd say; the girl Tony is holding. Tony is a foreigner, and so is the lady, Ella and her brother who happen to be there, so they say nothing, and the young man with the roadster, complains to the old man, "Who is going to pay for this car to be fixed." Tony speaks very little English (he is from Gredno, in Russia, a small city on the boarder), and doesn't understand anyway what is going on, and Ella can speak Russian, she is from Warsaw, Poland, thus, they both understand one another, and they briefly speak in Russian, his native tongue on what is going on.

"If all these folks were not out by your bar," the driver tells the proprietor, "I would not have had all this trouble," implying he has some responsibility in this matter, and may take him to court on this to fix his car. The proprietor is not intimidated, and knows who the young man is, he is from up on Summit Street, by the Cathedral, it is where F. Scott Fitzgerald lives, grew up [the rich area of St. Paul]. He knows his father owns a fur shop, and a grocery store, and perhaps some rental property, he is well to do.

[Blend or fade this statement in, and the following paragraph]

Tony looks at Ella, and tells her: "I intend to marry you," she is taken back by this.

A court date is set, and the young man goes to court, calls Ella as a witness for him, and oddly enough, the proprietor calls Tony to be a witness for him. And the old man and his daughter are in the courtroom likewise, they were summoned to court. The suit is brought before the city judge: J. L. Rosenbourm. Not a fair judge at all and a moody one at that. He finds for the defendant, with costs for the plaintiff. Tony is no help at all, and the bar owner is mighty upset that no one can speak English, and Ella is of little use, but Cory, has a liking for her, and this was a way for him to keep tabs on her, so it seems. She even looks prettier sober than drunk he concludes in his youthful mind. The judge knows Cory's father, so it is settled.

Ella's brother, looks down the noses of the judge (you can see that plainly), he is obviously trash, but cannot say anything, only sympathizes with the barkeep. He has had a raw deal. But the kid, Cory is spoiled. The bar owner refuses to pay for the damaged car, and the judge says he will put him to work on the farm, if he does not pay, "Thirty days, I'll put you on the work farm, and if you complain, I'll make it 90-days." He does not complain.

The bar owner goes to the work farm out of protest, and the car remains to be fixed by Cory's father's money.

Cory now asks Ella to go out with him for a ride in his car, to meet his family. The girl is aware of his arrogance too, but nonetheless, she is attracted to him he is good looking, and perhaps his money; at the same time, she had also taken a liking to Tony, and somewhere in Cory's head, he is aware of this.

Why the bar owner did not get a lawyer, is now a matter of anger for him, at the workhouse, hopefully, he can serve his time, and learn from that. He knows people, at least. He gives a job to Tony, to paint his bar, inside and the three apartments upstairs, as he has instructed his wife to do in his absence: perhaps it is a dig on Cory, because he knows they both like Ella. He is an elder man, in his forties, and has boy 23-years old, Henry, who is attending the bar as he serves his 30-days at the workhouse.

Tony now will stay in town, no need to go elsewhere, and so he rents out one of Mr. Nelsons apartments, and gets some work from the local merchants up and own Wabasha Street. The butcher shop has hired him to paint the building inside and upstairs also, in the hallways. And a few of the show houses down the street: such as, the World Theater, and the Lyceum, wants their places painted. Ella's brother, Earnest now is involved, and helping Tony, they've kind of from a two man team.

Three months pass

The rich young man, Cory Gunderson, has asked Ella to marry him, and in his mind is engaged to her, yet she has not said yes or no, and the rival, Tony, perhaps by instinct knows something is up, has asked her for the second time to marry him. Determined he is, but he has found out, by talking to Cory, who just happened to stop by his job at the World Theater, where he is working now painting something (anything), that she has accepted his ring. And he leaves. Ella's brother, is dumbfounded, he knows nothing about this (but Tony things he does of course). Tony wants to blame Earnest for not telling him, inside of him, he is enraged, but leaves the scene before he injures anyone, goes back to his apartment, and packs his cloths. Earnest had followed him, and has told him a dozen times, "I knew nothing of this, I swear, I really didn't."

Tony believes this is the end. He is going back to New York City, and perhaps catches a boat back to Russia. I am not sure exactly his intentions but that is a pretty good guess I think; whatever, he is packing everything he owns, and his intentions are to leave the city. Earnest sees this and runs home to talk to his sister, she is there, crying. "I was afraid to say no to Cory," so she tells Earnest, "after he has wined and dined me for over three months" but after she hears Tony is leaving town, she becomes broken up, panics. It was Earnest's intention to put a fire under her feet, before Tony is gone, to get her moving, and this does it.

Both Earnest and Ella return to Tony's apartment, and they jump into each theirs arms, I mean, jumpthey had almost lost one another.

"I have come to tell you, I've called off the wedding," she says, and he responds, "You mean you're going to?" He knows she has not had time to do what she said she had done.

"Should we elope?" says Tony.

She is a ting sky, but nods her headyes.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

see Dennis' new book, "Poetic Images out of Peru," at http://www.bn.com

After Eve Conte Philosophique Part One Chapter One The First Ballad

2009-02-12T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

He winked one eye,
After four billion years;
Uncovering the blind,
Naked, and feared.

Then, articulating,
Fibers and cells
He lifted, constructed,
Tailored, and milled.

With soil and soul,
He then conceived
Australopithecus
Was now relieved.

Now, cries were heard
Throughout the land:
Homo was hereby God's hand!"

The Garden of Eve

Preamble

Says the Author: "Hidden in the myths of 'Atlantis,' the 'Garden of Eden,' the prehistoric time of the 'Dinosaurs,' and the supernatural, resides the story of: 'After Eve.' "

Map of Rivers and Sumer

This story is really a lot about the Garden of Eve, or 'Eden', if one is looking to find the Garden of Eden, s/he need not look too far, it is in the Mesopotamian marshlands between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, and here, and thereabouts will be our story.

On another note, or should I say, almost on the same note but not quite, if one is looking for Eve, again you do not have to look too far: she is coming out of the garden. Some say, on memorandums she came from Africa: maybe somaybe not; this book is not going to fight, or debate over or with anyone on this matter, which is not the premise of this book in the first place, that is: where she came from: but rather, where she left; that is, left from to go to.

Next, let's simply enjoy a story with a tall-tale: and possible we may end up understanding other possibilities; in any case, maybe Adam came from Africa, and Eve came from Adam, while in the Garden and they both roamed back to Africa somewhere along their long journey in life, after the expulsion that is, so many possibilities. In any case, there is much prospective in this area, and one is as good as the other to or for me. But for historical sake let's stick with some of what is considered history retold over several thousands of years, instead of history repeated from books written a hundred years ago, or last year. Yet we must not forget the bits and pieces of a conglomeration of everything, which makes for a better story. Having said that, and admitting my story is pure science-fiction, we can now slip by the DNA, like the Genesis debate that has been going on for over a century and look deeper into our spiritual inheritance.

In the 'Garden of Eve,' as it was known among the Horde, until it was called the land of Eden by the Stone-Builders, and then acquired the full and legendary name we all know it by today, that being: "The Garden of Eden," the ordinary laws of nature were suspended; as a result, there was no struggle for existence within its erosion free garden-continent, or put another way: around its perimeters. By and large, it was an environment free of volcanic upheavals, unlike its outside world, which surrounded it, and was subject to such hazards of nature. This of course was all altered and neutralized upon the couple's expulsion from the garden [which of course is pure history and recorded for posterity's sake].

In my simplicity, and imagined dream, there was no conclusive evidence of anything, much resembling the science of our day: with a speculative, mind's eye view at bestI can only tell what came to me as a result of my dream and will not be subjectas it is not my nature to beof any foolish curiosity by others. So I need not be tired out by trying to prove anything, or bend for any man to prove a fact if my words are doubtedbe that as it may. I must end this prelude quick, for it should not be allowed to monopolize what I have to share to the world. But let enthusiasm be your guide in the following story. This book will be an easy and most interesting read; however, embarrassing it may be to/for the elite, the proclaimed dubious honoring, sciences of: Anthropology, Darwinism, Evolutionist, and let's add, The New Age group: which is in essence, part of the Evolutionistof which I give sympathetic laughter to: the greatest demonstration being, --to this universal doubt, yet filled to the brim of a quarry 'Where do we go from here?' and you got it, they are still asking that same old question: 'Where did we come from?' but with more authority of course now; simply this is just another unanswered question, by this quarry. And so it begs an answer, maybe that is why I got this dream. But let's rememberfor the sake of argumentall answers do not have to be the ones you are looking for.

Preamble

I wasn't sure if I was going to put an introduction into this story, but at the last minute I felt I needed some kind of a lead into the story, or so I feel I do now: actually, after the whole story was done, I thought of this, you'd think it should be outlined in the beginning, wouldn't youoh well, it might help the story and then it may confuse the reader before he gets into the story, for it doesn't really add to it, or take from it. And it is not of the same dream, although it is of a part of a dream many years ago. In l984, I had over 50-visions of happenings worldwide and other things, not dreams now, let's not mix those up. In any case, in the l990's I had about 10-more of those so called vision-dreams. I don't want to get into them at this point, I have already published that book: "The Last Trumpet and the Woodbridge Demon," but into a new area, that actually links into this story of, "After Eve."

I was really trying to get away from, or avoid, such things as: Darwinism, and Atlantis, and Aliens, Anthropology, Archeology, and all such things, and just present a nice little dream story, but when you start out a book, you really never know how it's going to end, or what it's going to involve, entail; or how it's going to affect you. You learn while you write it, as well as doing the research, and you learn from so many others also.

While on the Easter Island I met Charlie Love, an Archeologist and Geologist, and an Anthropologist; Charlie has been to the island for the past 26-years or so he told me. We stayed [my wife and me] at the same hotel he stays at, and the Movie Star, Kevin Costner stayed at, of which Charlie help with producing a Moai for the movie, a replica. In any event, Charlie had worked on one of the Moais that now stand at the dock, kind of greeting people as they go down and watch the sunset, as we did often. And he was working on another site nearby when we were there. We had a few drinks one evening together, and on the way back to the hotel we talked on the transportation of the Moais, that is, how they got moved, he was quite frank and soft spoken. Not arrogant about his knowledge, and my possible, lack of it. Yet as he explained no one really knows how the heavier ones were moved, having heard that I couldn't help but give my idea, especially after he insisted I do. Well I did, and I think it was a bit too supernatural for him, but then who knows. So Charlie, let me know when you do find out. Again I want to say he is probably the most humble and knowledgeable man in this area. Both of us having old medical issues, we both know the precious element of time and life. Life is to be prospected, we need not create hardships or persuade anyone to something that they wish not to be pushed toward, and he was kind in this area, as I hope I was.

Now if I can put a scientific-concept into motion here, call it mine or call it anyone's, but let's see how it fits, and then connect into my little story to follow:

Imagine, the Lost Records

Once upon a time, 35,600 years ago [33,600 BC], a space ship landed on earth from a space station from Mars, which happened to stop at the outpost on the Moon, for re-supplying. The Captain's name was, Ta-mait; their home planet was quite a distance away, so far that the outposts were needed one might say. It was a planet similar to that of the Arctic region on earth, yet for some odd reason they had picked out this planet to cultivate. Their space craft, similar to ours used gold for a source needed in space flight, as well as for their planet needs. Much of this was mined in South Africa, and in old Samaria. To the inhabitants of earth, these beings were like gods. With the capability of genetic ingenerating, we ended up looking a lot like them I suppose; their God being the same as our God.

Well, time did go on, and now the year is 22,600 BC, and the gods of yesterday are half-gods of today [but we are not talking about the real One God remember], for the most part anyway [in addition, one must remember, that the good captain surely left some of these beings alone to wonder the earth, and in doing so, we might have a few among us today]. That is half human, and half supernatural. One could point to Gilgamesh, who is said to have been one third human, and two thirds god [god in this context being simply supernatural to us readers], whom lived in Uruk, in the land of Sumer, but Gilgamesh lived around 2700 BC, and our story is not quite there yet. Yes, 11,000-years have passed; the time of Leo is here. The pyramids are being built, the Sphinx is built. Atlantis will be a country, given to the half-god, Poseidon [or demigod], given to him by his father a full-angelic-god of sorts. Now the son is to be called a Titan, giant of sorts; especially in the land of Crete. He will name Atlantis after his daughter, and so the walls of Atlantis and its civilization come about. And it is built right where Plato said it should be, at the foot of the Azores. The year 9550 BC, it will be destroyed two or three times, the third time forever, 8560 BC [or 11,560- years ago, the time right after Leo, or when Leo the constellation was over looking the Middle East] it will sink 7000-feet in the Atlantic.

It is now 5600 BC [or 7603-years ago]. We have just witnessed the expulsion of Eve from the Garden of Eden. And this is really where our story begins. But for the sake of this story, let me go into the future for the inhabitants of this time. What they do not know is that, in a very short period of time, again, there will be genetic deformity within the human race, in which 4,090,000 giants will die in a flood, that will take place 3850 BC, or in approximately, 1750-years, there will be a flood [from the time of Eve], a monstrous-gigantic-wave that will go 8-miles in the air, and when it lands it will break the landmass of the continents, in what is called the 'Conventional Drift,' of which has been said to have happened over millions of years, but it will happen instantly, --upon impact. The Geographic North Pole has also altered its point of origin, it was more so in the Canadian Northwest territories, and now is shifting to where we have it today. After all is settled, most likely monsters will be found throughout the world, the cause, the global upheaval, with its ultra radiation, will cause biological and genetic deformities.

Along with this, the coal and mineral oil from dead organisms will be massive. For mineral oil comes from carcasses in addition to petroleum from inorganic, pressure and heat.

In the mountains of Bolivia, 12,500-feet up, of which I've been, hippopotamus and other odd and huge looking creatures will be buried by this huge wave, far from its original hunting grounds. Furthermore, the axis of the earth's rotation will be altered, to roughly: 23.5 degrees, at one time it was a perfect rotation, which had a canopy over it, allowing for perfect weather, and thus, the right temperature for the growth of huge animals. As a consequence of the upheaval, and the predestined limit put on man and beast, the age of the giants will have gone for the most part, and the age of man from 1000 to 500 years will go to between 70 to 120 years.

And now the year is 2700 BC, the time of Gilgamesh one of the last demigods, the King of Uruk. And this is where I stop. Incidentally, if you're wondering what happened to the good captain in the first paragraph of this story, your guess is as good as mine.

Eden

After Eve was created, of which she was by the rib of Adam, so it is written, the world started to change in the Garden of Eden, better known to the Horde as the Garden or otherwise known as the Garden of Eve. During the time Eve spent in the Garden which has been questionable to many, a mystery to some, the animals got their names, and so forth and so on. But things changed more rapidly after Eve ate from the 'Tree of Life,' which was forbidden of course, and thereafter, the tree was guarded by one of God's angels, in consequence, no visitors allowed. To my limited understanding of Eden, it was quite huge, as far as gardens go that is, it extended to parts of contemporary Syria: to include even the desert [however the desert was not a desert at the time of the garden I expect]; furthermore, it extended to parts of Iraq [old Sumer]: Asia Minor [Turkey], and to a number of islands within the Persian Gulf area. It has been said her husband Adam, is buried in what is called Iraq today, this very day, under a great Mosque in the city of Najaf, --this has yet to be proven, but so it shall remain as legend for the time being, yes, for the time being or until someone digs him up. Just a point of interest I thought.

But for the more inquisitive, outside of this paradise-garden was another civilization, another earth, it was much bigger, but then it needed to be, for it was much more dangerous; in essence, it was not a paradise at all or a garden as we might consider one; God was not care-taking this part of the world, only nurturing it. In point of fact, it was this part of my dream: yes, I say a dream that was more prominent, or more well-defined. Of course, outside of this paradise-garden was a dissimilar civilization: --a dying, decaying, and genetically cascading civilizationtheircontinued-existence was dependent on survival of the individual or group who was most adaptable to change, or most able-bodied, and most intelligentas life would prove, even evil would have its benefits. This dream of mine, with its ongoing images, and descriptions, one connecting to the other I will share with you in a moment: Eden had come to its finality, as would Sodom and Gomorra in the future, and the Great Flood of Noah's day, yet to be. As it has been written, 'God is no respecter of men,' and so the deed was done, and the penalty was laid out for all to seethe Garden of Eve was now exposed.

The Dream

Call it what you will, a vision, a dream, whatever suits your fancy [they were as they came, for better or worse, real to methat is the oncoming images of this story], but I will divide up the impressions given me as best I can; some are such as I should not know, for I had never thought of such things in my life. Nevertheless, I will not leave them out. The line between the lower primates and the higher ones might be considered based on the lack of certain characteristics of the orders involved, what one might categorize as higher or lower in brain capacity. I have tried to keep this in mind, as I tell you this story, my story, adventure if you will, or dream-of-dreams: but while it is not easy to think of ancestral forms as far as suborders go or classification, even though it may seem needed, I will tryfor I was much involved in the dream, and now I seem to have tosomewhat, characteristically speakingun-primated myself to tell this tale of tales. I do hope this is where I fit in, that is, I, or me, being the character in the story called: Short-legs. Thence, from here on, I will leave well enough alone I think, and be who I was in the dream, like it or not, yes, yes, oh yes, that is what I shall do, must do to get the right mood out. I will share and explain the various species [specifically, primates and humans] the best I can, in my forthcoming narrative that is. As I have indicated to you, I am in the dream, that is, I am the dreamer of the dream that is, the environment outside the Garden, I am the person called, 'Short-legs'. I think I was named that by my mother whom was known as Strong-lungs [sometimes called Smiley]. I think she was called Smiley before I was born, and thereafter, Strong-lungs, something like that.

I will not bore those whom this narrative may reach with a long account of why this came about, her second name that is [Strong-lungs], but when she'd call my brother and me to come home for dinner, she'd yell: "Oh, Short-legs, Stern-toes, OH, OH, and OH, come home for eat-time!" The whole plateau could hear her, and all the way down to and through the Valley of Caves knew she was calling for us two boys.

And I will also allude very briefly to a fight and then get on to my nick-name. In any case, I was cornered by six Branch-People once as a young Horde-lit, and they beat me, O they beat me pretty bad. I ran home and told my mother this, and she simply said: "Learn how to fight better son," and patted me on the head, as to comfort me. But we needed to be strong, and too much pampering does not make for a survivor in this world, so the patting was of course short lived: save for the fact it gave me some kind of release telling it to mom.

As I was about to say, Short-legs was a nick-name or whatever, but we all seemed to have such names in my dream, because I could run very fast, which seem unnatural for a person with such short legs as I, --none the less, it was noticeable, and so my name developed because of my physical traits and characterized features I displayed, which was not uncommon for this world at large. In point of fact, what else would you call me? In actuality, I could out run, and run faster than the rest of the Horde we lived with [Horde implyingsomething on the order of pack, group, or collection of visual look-alikes]; to include the Branch-People, and the People of the Fire. But I am getting ahead of my story. I want to say I looked similar to that of Australopithecus, a man, or the makings of one, but this might give a false impression, so I will try to describe myself in a more distinct manner, as well as for my comrades [and perhaps try to draw a few pictures on the side, the best I can: for a picture is worth a 1000-words, so it has been said].

Essentially I could say I was on the evolutionary-line of Australopithecus, but more so with that of the more developed human ancestor called the Neanderthal, or so I thought at the time, but I had to eliminate that idea as well, simply because the brain capacity, and understanding ability was too small in all cases, that ranging from around 450 cubic centimeters, compared to a humans brain of [let's say] 1300 +. Homo Erectus, which followed this line also, was somewhere around 700 in making comparisons, again a bit small. In any case, I would put my [mine], and the Horde's, the group I lived with, at about 1000-centimeters; leaving us somewhere in-between this so called human evolutionary line, as far as labeling our ancestry-gene line might go, or my gene line.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Drowning In A Pool Of Shadows Mescaline Take Two

2009-02-11T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Tanner Rhoden

My second mescaline trip also got a little out of hand. Me and three others decided to mix mescaline and acid. We each took two micro dots and one green gel tab. The only thing I noticed about mixing the two is that I had way more visuals then when I had done mescaline alone.

So, there we were, four of us sitting on the couch, taking hits from our hookah laughing uncontrollably. Things were very loud and the trip was very intense. Then, out of nowhere, I hear someone knocking at the front door. I ran over to the stereo to run it down. I walked up to the front door, and looked through the peephole. OH MY GOD!!!!!! IT'S COACH WINTERLING!!!!!! The site of our baseball coach standing there about made me soil my pants. I turned and told the guys......."It's Winterling.....RUN!!!" I grabbed the hookah and a bag of weed then headed out the back sliding glass door. The others followed all carrying with them some sort of paraphernalia. We ran as fast as our legs would take us through the woods behind our apartment. When we thought we'd ran far enough we stopped to catch our breath. "HOLY SHIT!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED!!!!" All of us were frightened yet laughing at the same time. One of my roommates Mike was so out of it when he started to scramble from the apartment that he grabbed a set of our darts and the TV remote. He had no idea why he grabbed those of all things but I guess his mind was racing so fast he didn't have time to think so he just took the first two things he saw.

After about twenty minutes of dipping and ducking through the woods, we figured the coast was clear. We came back to find my other roommate Greg standing in the living room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Greg was in the shower when we bolted. We left him there to deal with our coach alone. This, of course, was unintentional. We would've never left him there on purpose. To be perfectly honest I forgot he was even there. The only thing going through our minds was to get the f*ck out of that apartment. Greg said Winky, as we used to call him, was only there for a minute. He came by to check out the property damage in our apartment. I guess it's a good thing we covered all those holes in the walls with posters. Speaking of posters and things on our walls, you could've taken a picture of our living room and run an ad for Spencer's Gifts with it. You've never seen so many black lights and black light posters. It was the perfect setting for losing your mind.

When the mescaline began to wear off we started wanting more. I called my ecstasy dealer and had her come by and drop off a bunch of beans for us to take later that night..........how I'm still alive to tell some of the stories I'm telling today I have no idea.......and I haven't even got into the worst of them yet.

Tanner Rhoden

How To Predict The Future Using Spinning Objects

2009-02-10T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Paula Haworth

Throughout history people have sort ways of finding spiritual or mystical guidance in their every day lives. Consulting the Oracle, Soothsayer or village wise person who had the gift of seeing into the future was common practice in ancient times. However, you don't have to be a psychic to predict the future. In the simple system of Cyclomancy, a revolving device, such as a wheel or revolving circle can be very effective tool for divination (ability to foretell the future by intuitive rather than scientific or rational means). The practice of Cyclomamcy may have been the origin of the roulette wheel as a game of chance.

The "wheel-of-fortune" found at fair grounds which stops on prize-winning numbers or the TV "Wheel of Fortune" are also based on this concept. Cyclomancy has survived as the popular party kissing game "spin the bottle", or in a combination of 'Truth or Dare'. In this variation, the spinner gets to ask the person whom the bottle points to an intimate, personal question, which must be answered truthfully. In all these methods, the decision of the wheel is automatically fulfilled, so it is not surprising that many people believe that questions concerning their future can be answered by a similar contrivance.

Cyclomancy dates from time immemorial, and takes its name from the Latin word 'Cyclomantia' and from ancient Greek 'Kyklos' meaning a circle. Spinning arrows may be used instead of revolving wheels for telling fortunes. In occult practices the wheel will have astrological signs, numbers, letters, words or mystical symbolic makings around it. The powerful archetypal symbol of the 'Wheel of fortune' in the tarot deck reminds us of how random and unpredictable life can be. And that we are all subject to the workings of fate and Karma, in that what ever he/she sows he/she shall reap.

One form of divinational consultation is in finding geographical direction. When at a crossroad, take a bottle and lay it horizontally on the ground, and spin it. When it stops spinning, the neck of the bottle will point to the road where your destiny lies. Alternatively, before spinning the bottle ask a question with regards to the different directions, for example in which direction will I have the most fun, view the best sights or meet a new friends. Variations of the method use knifes or spinning tops.

In order to get started, first you're going to have to check your logic mind behind. It's a bit like visiting the cinema and as you walk in the door agreeing with yourself that for the next 90 minutes or so you will suspend your sense of reality. Trusting your intuition is a lot like that, once you begin to 'trust' that your question will be answered, somehow the cosmic wheels begin to turn and you will receive the answer to your question.

This handy do-it-yourself divination tool can be used when seeking advice or answers to questions regarding past, present or future events. To make your own Cyclomancy fortune telling wheel, first cut a piece of card to the size of a dinner plate. Using a pen, divide the wheel into ten equal sections so that it looks similar to the spokes of a cycle wheel. Next pierce a hole in the centre with a skewer. Take three deep breaths and relax, as you do this gently begin to focus on the question that you would like to ask. When you feel ready spin the wheel and see where it stops. In a similar way an arrow could be secured to the centre by a pivot so that it freely revolves when given a sharp spin, the number that the arrow stops on being the significant one.

The analysis of the number is based on the ancient system of Numerology also known as Arithmomancy. The system was popular amongst early mathematicians such as Pythagoras who believed that each of the numbers one to nine had it's own psychic or spiritual significance.

The interpretation of the numbers is as follows :

One - New beginnings, ideas and inspiration. Exciting new changes ahead in love, business, education.
Two - A need for tact and diplomacy. Two's denote balance and harmony and fair play. Hidden things that need to be revealed. A period of waiting.
Three - Birth, pregnancy and marriage. A reason to celebrate or to go out and have fun. Your ships are coming in. Successful teamwork.
Four - Security, home, property, DIY around the house, time to take a break go on holiday. Five - Problems to overcome, a time to be assertive, excess energy at your disposal. Watch out for jealousy and conflict amongst friends.
Six - Time to give and receive in many ways, money, time, support. A time of success, meeting old friends, compassion, travel. A time for making choices.
Seven - Staying in control via understanding, time for clear thinking, beware of deception, need to check security, time for evaluating a situation.
Eight - Determination to achieve goals, on-the-job study, dissatisfaction with an aspect of your life, feeling trapped, time to move on, end of delays.
Nine - Light at the end of the tunnel, preparation for a new beginning, smugness, and success, unnecessary worries.
Ten - Change, the end of a journey, success, family gatherings, support of others, idealism, a sense of community.

Paula is a gifted psychic and the owner of www.email-a-psychic.co.uk and www.psychic-trudy.co.uk where your personal questions will be answered professionally and compassionately by Email.

The Tale Of The Jumping Serpents Of Bosnia

2009-02-09T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

The Snake Killer of Bosnia

Along the coast of the Adriatic Sea lives what now is called the "poskok,' better known as the 'Jumping Serpent'. These creatures are some five feet long and to my understanding can jump some three feet in the air and leap some five feet in any direction they wish, simply by aiming at whatever, wherever. But this didn't happen by chance, this really and truly happened by necessity. And this is the tale you are about to hear, the 'why,' of it, how it came about. And to be quite honest, you will be the first to hear of it.

The poskok has a macabre-hissing tone to its dynamic language, a hissing that bellows out fear, and out of fear and inborn aggressiveness, its impulses create a neurological reaction that makes it leap and jump. Again, the why of this will come out in the tale? But it is always prudent to know the background of things, and so I am equipped to share it with you. In addition to its poisonous bite, it has quite the temper, and at times it can look no different than a log or branch sitting by a tree. And let's add its natural abode to this narrative background: it prefers if given the natural background to live amongst, it will choose the trunk of trees.

And now come join me for my tale of tales, and think not that there isn't a feather of truth in this tale, for it would be ill-advised to think otherwise:

Once upon a time, several hundred years ago, or thereabouts, there were a multitude of snakes along the coast of the Adriatic Sea, and within the mountainous area thereof, in a land now called Bosnia. They grew the length of the men of those far off days, in that far off land. These snakes were a reddish-brown color, for this cleaver kind of breed of snake, with sharp fangs, which are quite poisonous; the snakes also being rather aggressive for the most part.

Along with living in the trunks of trees, in lack of a better home, and accommodations, and liking the sun, these snakes slept on the side of the roads to a high extent, where often times they chummed with one another(figuratively speaking that is); looking like dried up old branches especially in the fall seasonlaying over one another like little lions. But as winter came around, back into the trunks and holes of trees they'd find themselves. And when they'd see a passerby, especially during the long hot summers, they'd play possum [dead], and when female carrying water to the village would walk by them, they'd twist their bodies slowly and, positioning them just right and quicker than you could say 'help', they'd have their teeth in one's leg. And the water being fresh would feed their thirst, along with its aggressive temperament, even on their best of days it would be hard for them not to do their dirty deeds, they seemed to be simply born with an aggressive nature.

Well, this went on for quite a spell, yes, for the longest time, and one day, one day after hearingyear after year hearingpeople's complaints, the King of the area announced that whoever could rid the region of these nasty and evil serpents, he'd reward them by allowing them to marry his beautiful and youthful daughter. Ah yes, it was indeed a luring reward, and all wished they had such a gift to do this task.

Well, all is fare in love and war, so they say, thus, Mr. Goose, an old man from Croatia [82-years old at the time], went to the little mountainous kingdom and spoke with King Mon about his reward to be, should he clear the land of these creepy-crawling type creatures that infested every nook, tree and, oh well, let's just say, the whole landscape.

Said the King, with a skeptical eye,

"It would take an army I fear to wipe these hills and mountains and the coastline of these aggressive, antagonistic evil doers that have taken, killed, eaten, over a thousand-lives, a thousand lives I say, from my kingdom, my kingdom's past of which it has been some forty years, to now; yes, yes, how can one man expect to do this, it is beyond me?"

Said the old man, who had an odd looking hunchback and legs that looked more animal than human with mammalian hairs sticking out all the openings of his pants, likewise his shirt, and on his face and arms; in addition, he had a long skull, that is to say, a very long slant to it, with a brow that receded back to his prickly looking hair; and quite thin it was, and a smirk that showed he had secrets, secrets beyond our imagination perhaps, and a small mustache, yes he had a small thin mustache, and a thin bone structure, big eyes and feet; they were as if claws from a hawk. But here he stood, the old carnivorous gentleman, smiling with a long pause, and then simply said

(Ah! but said it keenly and sharply), "I will take your daughter for my reward, as you promise, should I accomplish the mission, but if you want to know how I shall do this feat, it will cost you your kingdom."

[Insolent thought the king] With a stiff upper lip, and eyebrow reaching into the air, the short stubby king, with his curly locks of golden hair dangling over his ears, stood up in front of the beggar type looking man, who had a deep-set of eyes, big, yes big and confident, that had a small and thin bridge separating them from what was called his nose but looked more like reptilian type air holespoked into his upper face, with only a small arch and slits to inhale though.

Said he, said he with scorn on his cheek bones, stiff bones, perturbing boneseven through his fat:

"So be it, you will have my daughter, not my kingdom, should you achieve this mission, and should you not, I advise you, you old coot, to be gone from these hillsfar gone, for I will surely have you stripped and beaten unto your last gulp of air, should you not accomplish this, simply for you absurd audacity to think so highly of yourself in front of me." Ah yes, the kind was feeling his oats indeed, sharp was his words, and weighty was his heart.

There was no more to be said, the old man turned 'around and with shifty looking dark eyes, ebony-yes that resembled a rat's, he walked out through the door, as strangely as he walked in, almost silently, not looking any which way but straight. Upon the door opening up, and the king still sitting at his grand throne, two soldiers came in with a huge seven-foot snake to show the king their good deed, their catch of the day. They had its mouth died shut with a rope, and carried it on a long stick. It must have weighed two-hundred pounds or more. As the two soldiers walked past the old man, the king started to stand up to get a good look at the snake, in the process, the serpent got a look at the old man's eyesit was the hiss from the mouth, yes the mouth most certainly, like thunder erupting, or possibly like the sound from a volcano, the snake started hissing and struggling wildly; jumping and hissing more and more, as the old many walked by the snake; it was about to fly out of the two soldiers mitts, trying to get free, trying to escape the old man's presence. Matter of fact, the viper was so frantic, the snake it even started to eat the rope it was tied with.

When the soldiers seen this, they dropped the snake on the marble floor, as the King looked on, on towards the snake and the old man with one glance, a glance he had given the snake, just one little glance towards the old man, and he noticed the fleeting look from the old man had frightened the snake, thus, he knew this man was extraordinary, and although he hesitated in mind and soul to stop this potential marriage, he had no other recourses left, the old man was itwho else was there, should he not make the deal, there'd be no kingdom to rule in time. As soon as the old man was out of the door: out of sight, the snake regained it's weaken composure it had before it had seen the old deformed gentleman of sorts.

For that reason, the deal was sealed, and for five years to follow the old man walked slowly up and own the paths of the mountains; looked in every tree trunk, walked the coast of the Adriatic, and combed miles and miles of forest areas within the vicinity, whipping out all the snakes that he could find: he ate them, like an animal eating flesh, ripped them apart like a rat to a hen. It had come to a point, and it was said, that the area had over 10,000 snakes at one time, that now their existence was down to but ten.

Yes, oh yes, indeed, only ten left, and these ten got together, and by way of necessity, inevitability, thus, started learning how to jump, and leap. They'd gathered by the waters, the lakes, the rivers, wherever they could and watched the frogs as they moved about, then even watched the toads, all and any creatures that jumped, they examined, watched closely, then by instinct, and need for continued existence, within a years time had learned how to leap some three feet in the air, and some five to seven feet in any directionstraight forward that is. As a result it was their way of escape from this flesh-eating human animal of sorts: the old man.

Four years had now gone by, and the old man was now 86-years old. His heart was tired, and he wanted more than anything to leave a legacy behindhis legacy that is, but had one more year to keep the land free of these evil serpents, should he fail, he'd lose the beautiful bright-eyed young princess: and in his mind, this could not be tolerated.

As time passed, the old man found these ten snakes, all in different locations: some in trees, others along side of the road playing dead, and others by the great waters of the sea, he'd go to grab them, and before he could they'd jump, leap right through his hands. Several leaps and the serpents were gone, out of sight. Well, this bothered the old man to extremes, but he knew if he kept the snakes hidden, and busy, he'd still get his reward, or could if he was deceptive enough. And consequently, as if nothing had happenedhe'd continue to play his game, and the king would be no wiser; the end result, the old man kept walking the mountain pathsas all the villagers knew, as all the villagers saw him do, day after day after dayand word got back to the king all the roads were clean and clear of the snakes.

Yet, in checking out the trees, and road sides, he occasionally found a snake or two, but it again would leap out of his presence to safety (and again I say, no one had seen snakes for a long time now, no one that is but the old man, so the king was not wise to his charade). And slowly but surely the numbers started to increase, but they were simply baby snakes, and the mothers kept them hidden from the old man most of the time; yet the old mans reflexes were not as they were a few years back anyhow, slow they were, and with the leaping, it was impossible to catch them; yet again, I must stress, in fear they'd become extinct all over again, they hid when they could, and jumped when they had to, or leaped, should they become aware the old man was around; so again no one seen them, and the snakes knew the old man was aging, and would not live forever, thus, if only they could out last him, out wait himin many case this is the only way to deal with such a menace as the old man, so the snakes concluded.

And therefore, the fifth year had passed, and the old man went to the king to claim his reward. The King looking quite dreadful at his parting of his daughter gave her to the old man nonethelesswith not much to say, and brought forth a great celebration. The lovely twenty-year old princess was adorned with all kinds of flowers, and jewels and riches beyond imagination. And the party went on and on all night.

Surprisingly during this time the king noticed that he had only eyes for the princess, not the riches she possessed. Somehow that seemed to dignify the whole matter much more, in an ugly kind of way, that is. As the bride danced with the groom, all the young bucks looked on with discuss and envy, perhaps a little more envy than discuss. The princess although, said nothing, not a word to disgrace her fathers will, like a good daughter, she kissed her husband and bid good evening to the guests, as they went into their room to consummate the marriage.

As the extraordinary evening went on, the old man lay back in his bed, tired, very tired, and in the morn, the princess trying to awake her new husband found him to be dead. Mortified, and yet relieved, she called quickly to her father, the doctor and the guards. Word had gotten out quickly that the princess' husband had heart-failure, and she would be in mourning. But the serpents in the area were refreshed by the news, and came out bravely, back onto the pathways, and around the trees and coastal areas with their young ones.

The king now seeing this new resurrection of the snakes didn't know what to do, but it was not half as bad as it was five years past, and figured he'd look for another man of same qualities, and tried to find the Goose family to no avail. Then, finding out his daughter was pregnant, he got thinking, possibly, just possibly, whatever the qualities the old man had, they might be in his blood line, thus, in his grand-son to be [hoping it would be a boy].

"Awe," he said with glowing and ghastly eyes, "sure," he said to his daughter, "should she give birth to a son, he will be the tempest for the snakes."

And so the king and his kingdom all waited for the birth of the child.

And then it happened, the 9th month, third day, in the early morning, the sun had just risen: all waited outside the doorway to hear the baby's cry, but there was no cry, yet a baby was born. As the doctor looked at the child, he was flabbergasted; the child was horrifying to look at; hence, stunned at its appearance he just shook his head, nodded his head back and forth as if to grab onto some sanity: it looked like a ferret, yet it had human form to it.

The doctor remembered what the old man looked like: comparing child to father, or perhaps what he didn't see of the father he imagined, and thus, made his own comparisons; and now thinking of the king, he pondered on what to do, for the king and the kingdom.

He didn't show the child to anyone, not a soul, and ordered all to stay away. And during the late night took the child out of the kingdom, telling all concerned, the child had a deadly diseasecontagious (which it did not of course), should it touch anyone, it would kill them, and he needed to be treated, and the child destroyed, which he did not do of course. He called the child 'Mon-goose', taking the kings name and the fathers. And left it in the woodsneither one, never to return; hence, the Mongoose was born.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

What Are Giclee Paintings

2009-02-08T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Melih O

Giclee (zhee-klay) - The French word "giclée" is a feminine noun that means a spray or a spurt of liquid. The word may have been derived from the French verb "gicler" meaning "to squirt".

The term "giclee print" denotes an elevation in printmaking technology. Images are generated from high resolution digital scans and printed with archival quality inks onto various substrates including canvas, fine art, and photo-base paper. The giclee printing process provides better color accuracy than other means of reproduction.

Giclee prints are created typically using professional 8-Color to 12-Color ink-jet printers. Among the manufacturers of these printers are vanguards such as Epson, MacDermid Colorspan, & Hewlett-Packard. These modern technology printers are capable of producing incredibly detailed prints for both the fine art and photographic markets. Giclee prints are sometimes mistakenly referred to as Iris prints, which are 4-Color ink-jet prints from a printer pioneered in the late 1970s by Iris Graphics. The power of modern computers is harnessed to drive and control each combination, of colour, shade, hue, value and density of the ink via four or eight nozzles.

This can produce a combination of up to 1024 basic chromatic changes, which makes possible of over four million color combinations of highly saturated, non-toxic, water based ink. Since no half-tone screens are used in Giclee printing, the prints have a higher resolution than lithographs. The intense saturation of the Giclee printing system renders a dynamic color range is greater than serigraphy.

The apparent resolution of the digital print is 1800 dots per square inch, which is higher than a traditional lithographic print and has a wider color gamut than serigraphy. Giclee prints render deep, saturated colors and have a beautiful painterly quality that retains minute detail, subtle tints and blends.

Giclee prints are advantageous to artists who do not find it feasible to mass produce their work, but want to reproduce their art as needed, or on-demand. Once an image is digitally archived, additional reproductions can be made with minimal effort and reasonable cost. The prohibitive up-front cost of mass production for an edition is eliminated. Archived files will not deteriorate in quality as negatives and film inherently does. Another tremendous advantage of giclee printing is that digital images can be reproduced to almost any size and onto various media, giving the artist the ability to customize prints for a specific client.

The quality of the giclee print rivals traditional silver-halide and gelatin printing processes and is commonly found in museums, art galleries, and photographic galleries.

Ten years ago Giclees had a hard time being accepted by the general art buying public as "legitimate" art. Today, Giclee Prints have gained wide acceptance and "legitimacy", and are now shown in museums and galleries throughout the world.

Numerous examples of giclee prints can be found in New York City at the Metropolitan Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and the Chelsea Galleries. Recent auctions of giclee prints have fetched $10,800 for Annie Leibovitz, $9,600 for Chuck Close, and $22,800 for Wolfgang Tillmans (April 23/24 2004, Photographs, New York, Phillips de Pury & Company.)

The Giclée printing process is environmentally safe since the inks are water-based and the paper is archival and acid-free. Thus, a Giclée must be treated as fine art and placed away from direct sunlight, even though we use extra long-life Archival UV-Safe Pigmented Inks.

Come join the art adventure at Art Ideas for You and learn how you can have a business with limited edition quality canvas giclee paintings.

We are a business in the art industry combined with direct sales for an income opportunity for entrepreneurs and individuals seeking to work from their homes.

For more information about the Art Adventure, please visit us at Art Ideas for You.

Toys The Yoyo

2009-02-07T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Michael Russell

The yo-yo. It may not be as popular as it was 40 years ago, but you can still get yourself a pretty decent one if you look hard enough. But how did the yo-yo craze get started? For that matter, when was the first yo-yo made?

The truth is, nobody really knows where the yo-yo came from. There are some who say that the yo-yo originated in China. But the first time the yo-yo was ever mentioned was in Greece around 500 BC. The old yo-yos were made out of various materials like wood and metal. Supposedly, when a kid got to be a certain age he was supposed to offer up his yo-yos to the gods.

The modern day yo-yo didn't actually come to be until the 1920s when a guy by the name of Pedro Flores brought one to the United States from the Philippines. In 1928 he began a toy company in California to start making them. His first yo-yos were very unique in that instead of having the string tied to the axle, the string was wrapped around the axle. This made it so that the yo-yo could hang, or what they called "sleep" at the end of the rope.

A year later, a guy by the name of Donald Duncan saw this yo-yo and was fascinated by it. Because Pedro was able to do quite a few tricks with his yo-yo, he drew large crowds by putting on exhibitions. Duncan saw this as a big money maker. So, not only did Duncan purchase the idea of the yo-yo but he bought the company from Flores himself. You know the rest of what happened.

Duncan yo-yos became a monster of a company. In 1946 they moved to Luck, Wisconsin, which became known as the yo-yo capital of the world. They were producing yo-yos there at an alarming rate of over 3,600 per hour. Back in the 40s the yo-yos were made out of wood, but when the 1960s rolled around they started making them out of a very hard plastic.

The early yo-yos were still pretty simple looking. Still, by 1962 over 45 million of these yo-yos were sold. That's not bad considering the country had only 40 million children at the time. Some kids were buying two or three different yo-yos. And that number began to increase when Duncan started making different styles of yo-yos.

But then the legal battles began. The Duncan trademark of the word "yo-yo" was being fought against. The word had become the toy itself. Well, finally, Duncan lost their battle with the courts and in 1965 Duncan was driven into bankruptcy. The Duncan name itself was purchased by Flambeau Plastics.

In spite of this, the yo-yo became more popular than ever. Yo-yo tournaments were being held all over the world. New tricks were being thought of including the popular "walk the dog". There were even more styles of yo-yos than ever before. And then finally, on April 12, 1985, the yo-yo was taken into space.

The yo-yo may have lost some steam over the years, but it is still one of the most popular toys to have ever been made.

Michael Russell

Your Independent guide to Toys

A Fresher Take On The Worlds Biggest Lies

2009-02-06T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Terry Mitchell

Last month, I did a column about the world's biggest lies. Based on popular demand, I have decided to do a sequel. Here are ten more common, everyday fallacies that I am debunking. Actually, I've added an extra one this time for good measure. Enjoy!

(1) 500 TV channels. All too often, the truth falls victim to popular belief. Such is the case with the supposed 500 TV channel universe. This myth started getting repeated in the early 1990's. By now, it has been repeated so often that most people believe that many cable and satellite TV systems offer as many as 500 channels for subscription. In reality, I know of no cable or satellite TV provider that offers that offers this many channels. Let's suppose that, when you were a preschooler, you began hearing rumors about the existence of a five-legged horse called a "quinthorse." Now let's suppose you are 40 years old but have never seen a quinthorse either in the flesh, in pictures, in the movies, or on TV, even though you are still hearing rumors about it. Would you still believe such an animal exists? Based the history of the 500 TV channels myth, many people in that situation apparently would.

(2) The candidate from the independent party. Think about it. This is actually an oxymoron and tantamount to saying you paid toll on a freeway! If a candidate is indeed an independent, he/she couldn't be a member of a party; if he/she were a member of a party, he/she couldn't be an independent candidate.

(3) We're doing it for the children. Yeah, right! This is nothing more than an excuse to restrict the rights of adults. The Parents Television Council (PTC) and other so-called "family values" organizations are prime examples of what I'm talking about. They claim they want to protect children from the influence of inappropriate material available over the airwaves, but their real goal is to regulate what adults can see on TV or listen to on the radio. How do I know this? Because, if their true goal was to protect children, they would be emphasizing technology like the V-chip, which helps parents control what their children watch on TV. Instead, they emphasize the removal of programming from the airwaves, so no one can see it. Even if we could incorporate some kind of super-advanced technology in the V-chip that could automatically detect when children are present and shut off inappropriate programming, the PTC and others would still reject it. If censoring broadcast content from adults is what they want to do (as it quite obviously is), then they should have the moral integrity to admit it and quit hiding behind the "it's for the children" charade.

(4) The highest standards of ethical conduct. Almost every large corporation has this line written somewhere in its standards of conduct and code of ethics. It's there because their corporate lawyers say it has to be and not because most corporate mucky-mucks actually believe in it or adhere to it. I know I sound cynical, but that's the way things are in the real world. Most corporations will bend or break any rule they can as long as they believe it will be to their advantage and they think they are not likely to get caught doing it. Corporate honchos are some of the worst purveyors of the "do as I say, not as I do" philosophy. Of course, this is not an excuse for employees to engage in illegal or unethical behavior, as each individual is responsible for his or her own actions.

(5) Below dealer cost/invoice. Many automobile dealers will deceitfully include this phrase in their advertisements. However, it's just not true. If you believe a dealer is going to sell you a car for less than what he paid for it, then I have some ocean-front property in Kansas that you might be interested in. Sure, they might be able to produce a so-called invoice with a price on that's less than what you might be paying. But wait - that dealer is getting a rebate or an incentive from the manufacturer (that he's keeping and not telling you about) that ultimately lowers the actual cost of the vehicle to him. Rest assured that this cost is less than what you are paying.

(6) If you're not moving forward, you're moving backward. This is a nice little catch phrase that motivational speakers and spiritual advisors like to use, but it's not true in the real world. I know people who have been in the same job for years, just getting a cost-of-living pay increase every year. They have not improved their skills and it hasn't hurt them, despite the fact that they have been told that they would move backward in their career if they didn't. They have not moved forward, nor have they moved backward. They have just maintained their position in their career. Others just maintain their position in life and are happy to do so. We all know people like that and they are not moving backward.

(7) It's for your own safety. This is a favorite of people in positions of authority, but it's generally a euphemism for "I'm in control of you." If it is truly for anyone's safety, it's more likely for that of the person making the statement and/or creating the rule. For example, you've heard of people being handcuffed, locked up, or otherwise detained "for their own safety." If their safety was truly the concern, better methods, such as assigning them a bodyguard or allowing them to stay in a highly secure facility, could be used.

(8) Wrinkle-free, wrinkle resistant. Don't throw away your iron! Clothing that is supposedly wrinkle-free or wrinkle resistant will still wrinkle, just not as much so as other clothing. This will happen even if you follow the garment care directions to the tee. Washers, dryers, and overcrowded closets can wrinkle any material, regardless of the label says.

(9) You can cancel at any time. Really? There are always conditions placed on any cancellations. For example, most companies will not allow you to retroactively cancel last month's subscription, even though a month later technically qualifies as "any time." Also, once your subscription and/or obligation begin, don't expect any reminders about the fact that you can cancel. Companies will play up this "cancel at any time" feature until they've made the sale. Then there's dead silence on this issue.

(10) Risk-free. So-called risk-free offers are generally made on mail-order items. The risk-free period usually lasts 30-90 days and allows consumers to send a product back for a full refund if not satisfied with it any time during that time frame. However, completely risk-free they aren't. For one thing, we all know there's some risk involved in everything, even getting out of the bed in the morning. More specifically, doesn't the risk exist that you might accidentally damage the item before you can send it back? I doubt that you would get a full refund in that case. What if you misplace it and can't ever find it? What if you lose your receipt? What if you mail it back without insuring it and it gets lost in the mail? What if you forget to send it back before the cutoff date? Don't those possibilities constitute risks? My point is that while those full refund offers might represent a reduced-risk method of purchase, they are certainly not risk-free.

(11) Less is more. If you're a cereal maker, for example, this would be an ideal lie to propagate. Why, you are constantly decreasing the size of the cereal box while increasing the price. Naturally, you would want people to believe something like that. Thinking they are getting more when they are actually getting less, consumers would willingly pay the higher prices. Sadly, this happens every day as consumers fall for this big lie. Now, granted, less could be all you need. It could be all you want. It could even be just as satisfying. But there's no way that less could logically ever be more than or even just as much as more.

Terry Mitchell is a software engineer, freelance writer, and trivia buff from Hopewell, VA. He also serves as a political columnist for American Daily and operates his own website - http://www.commenterry.com - on which he posts commentaries on various subjects such as politics, technology, religion, health and well-being, personal finance, and sports. His commentaries offer a unique point of view that is not often found in mainstream media.

Old Josh In Blackhide

2009-02-05T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

[Spring of 1860; Ozark, Alabama]

"Say you! whar do ol man Josh live?"

"ahdown de road a piece," says Silas to the stranger, " 'bout a mile, de Hightower place, but yous wont find 'im, he's away fishin' I reckon."

At the Hightower plantation, the black stranger knocked on the door, and old Hightower answered and the stranger asked where Josh was. Old man Hightower, hollered for Josh, but he didn't answer, looking toward the back of his house, toward the barn and beyond were the enclosure was.

"He's gitting old" the stranger said to himself quietly.

Old Josh had seen the stranger and was hiding behind the cow corral and further than, and behind some bushes and jimson weeds.

The stranger was now sanding looking through the open area of the corral with his owl-like faceOld Josh's knees bent, acing a ting, but not willing to stand up yet. Thus, he remained hidden about one-hundred feet away. The stranger just stood there chewing his tobacco, glancing here and there, up and down over this way and that wayeyes eating up each square foot.

"Hey!, wher is youthis is Abram!" said the stranger, then he saw his brother, "dhar you all is a-sitten!" he said; yet old Josh continued to conceal himself, even though his brother saw him; Abram's foot on the railing.

"Wuz you callin' somebody?" said a voice. Abram looked deadeye into Josh's face, from a distance, from where he stood with his foot on the fence.

"Say Josh, what you doin'?"

Old Josh still remained quiet. Then Josh hollered at him, "kep-a right on goin, dont look back, I dont hyear ya-feet movin!"

"Well, I reckon I cam-a long ways not fer nothing" said his brother Abram, still chewing his tobacco, while listening off and on to the mockingbirds singing on a nearby old Alabama Oak.

(Interlude: there was dust in the air, this early spring morning, blowing about, flowers filling the air with light odor scents; Josh wanted to lay down, didn't really want his day disturbed; wanted to go fishing, was about to before he saw the stranger coming up the road on a sprinkled old horse. He walked like his brother, didn't really know it was him, but had a second sense it was somebody from the past, back when he was a boy in New Orleans, and was left by his mother and older brother, left wandering about aimlessly, but that was seventy years ago.)

"Looks like yous in dhe po' house back der," he said to Josh with a smile.

"I'm goin' on seventy-nine years old, Josh," he said, as if his days were numberedthen spat into the weeds some of his over moistened tobacco he was chewing.

"You done lef me in New Orlens when I's just a boywalking up and down de streets, 'til Hightower's pick me up, and hers I am!"

It showed on their faces, the long and hard years of labor, loneliness, on both their faces, a little less on Josh's perhaps, or so it seemed: he took thinks a bit lighter than Abram; accept, possibly for this moment.

"I' s got money to buy your freedom," said Abram, to Josh.

A shadow of gloom was on Josh's face, and a bitter sneer that he tried to hide.

Now Josh and Abram sat on Josh's porch (of his two room shack); Abram still chewing his tobacco, slowly. Hightower had departed.

"Josh, com wit me," shouted Abram abruptly, as if he was a big brother. They sat there for hours, both fell to sleep, and Silas come home, tip-toed past them, slowly, not to wake them up, and into the hut, and sat down by the small wooden table, and had some pumpkin soup.

In the morning Abram looked at Josh, they had fallen to sleep where they sat; the old spotted horse had not been fed, and was pacing, nibbling over in the bushes eating whatever. It had been seventy years since they had seen each other, seventy long years since Abram let go of his brother's hand, and ran, seventy yearsthat's when he was his big brother (so thought Josh).

"Nah! All right!" shouted Abram, as he stood up, flung his coat over his shoulder, spat out some tobacco onto the dirt a few feet from the front of the porchput on his hat emerged onto the road in front of Hightower's house. At the same time, old Josh turned his head to see what his son was doing; he heard a noise in the hut, said to his boy, "Dhat dhar chewin' enough to kill ya!" Then he looked at his brother"damn his black-hide!" He repeated.

Written 1/20/2006; the Author lived in Ozark, Alabama in the mid l970s.

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Oil Paintings For Sale

2009-02-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Jason Gluckman

Depending on one's budget and tastes, there are many choices available in today's oil painting market. Fine art auction houses exist in most American cities, and may be a good starting point for serious collectors and people buying art as an investment. For the buyer who cannot afford an original Renoir or Monet, but who wants to enjoy looking at an oil reproduction instead of a paper reprint, there are countless companies that commission skilled artists to paint such reproductions.

If one is less sure of what one wants, some companies have extensive online galleries to help a person decide if a particular style or theme works. Some companies also accept orders for custom oil paintings, which could be portraits of people or pets, oil reproductions from a favorite photograph, or anything else that catches the customer's fancy.

For a new collector, one way to get an idea about styles and prices of original oil paintings or valuable reproductions is to visit commercial art galleries and auction houses. Shows by new artists can provide opportunities to buy original art at a reasonable price. Online auctions may be another way to find good value for money. Unless trained to appraise art, investors are probably better off asking an expert art appraiser to help them find oil paintings that are likely to provide a good return on their investment. The same rule applies if you are planning to sell an oil painting.

The Internet has opened up a global oil painting market, letting people buy oil paintings from distant cultures. Many online sites that sell oil paintings let a customer search by category, theme, size and type of painting surface. Most large cities also have fine art liquidators that hold auctions periodically. Such auctions may provide the opportunity to get some good deals on oil painting reproductions.

Oil Paintings provides detailed information on Oil Paintings, Oil Painting Reproductions, Oil Paintings For Sale, Oil Painting Portraits and more. Oil Paintings is affiliated with Famous Paintings.

For Better Gas Mileage Have A Better Car

2009-02-03T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Ken Reno

In today's world of contemporary society, we have many cartels and monopolies, but the one, which stands out for being the most profitable, most effective, and most powerful is the one involving oil.

This is the main reason why oil prices continues to escalate in the market area. On a global basis, this high-pricing of oil is considered as a worldwide dilemma.

Hence, in order to cut down extra cost in gas or fuel consumption and have a better gas mileage, it is a must for every driver to understand and employ the different ways on how to maximize their fuel consumption with a lower cost so as to achieve a better gas mileage. Here's how:

1. Check your filter.

One of the most important factors that affects your chance of getting a better gas mileage is your car's air filter. In order to have a better gas mileage, it is important to know and maintain you car's performance by checking on its air filters. Clean air filters gives the machine's performance a considerable boost enabling it to travel farther with a lesser fuel consumption and a better gas mileage.

2. Inspect your tires regularly.

Tires in good condition can also contribute to a better gas mileage. The tires condition directly affects your car's gas mileage when the tire is "under-inflated". It tends to make your car run relatively slower than its usual pace but increases your probability of getting a better gas mileage.

3. Remove excess weight.

Based on the common belief of many, light cars do travel faster. And so, in order to have a better gas mileage, be sure to always check on things in your compartment that are no longer needed.

4. Change oil regularly.

It is very important to have a regular oil change. Usually, a car has to exert more effort if it has to wrestle with a dirty oil, thus, it consumes more gas. So, a regular oil change will enable you car to run smoothly and, therefore, acquire a better gas mileage.

5. Check your carburetor.

Carburetors can also affect your car's fuel consumption simply because car's exert more effort when grappling with a dirty carburetor. In this instance, your car is consuming more gas than you can imagine. And so, it's better to have a cleaner carburetor in order to have a better gas mileage.

6. Cut air conditioner usage.

Air conditioners can also increase fuel consumption and lessen the possibility of getting a better gas mileage because it uses extra strength to power up the compressor that boost the air conditioner's performance. If this is the case, then it will be impossible for you to have a better gas mileage. So, in order to cut down additional fuel consumption, do not use air conditioner especially when you are driving in a highway. After all, natural air is still the best for your health.

7. Slow down.

Do you believe in the old saying, "Slowly but surely?" It is highly applicable to driving. Normally, when you drive faster, you tend to put more stress on the gas pedals, right? And because you increase your speed by hitting hard on your gas pedals, you are also increasing your car's consumption on fuel. In doing so, you will have a difficulty in achieving a better gas mileage.

All of these conservation tips boils down to one common point, the better car you have and the slower you drive your car, the better gas mileage you have.

About The Author
Ken Reno is the owner of http://www.CheapGasIsGone.com

White Shadows Scented Death In Seven Cantos

2009-02-02T13:00:00.000-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

cantos: 1-7

White Shadows [Scented Death]

Ah, yes, a cantankerous age indeed

is old age: so they say

the golden age. Somewhere along life's line for me

there came a basis, a set belief: we all have our branch to perch on if we can find the tree.

I walk, used to walk the shadowy streets, 'now this is your day,' says my second-self; 'life has been a blaze.' It is early March; 'tis the time, the great day; there is no other like it never will be. ('Before I was, I was not, now I am, and

and soon to be again. It all comes out clear at the end.' So says my second self.)

And it's hard to leave something old

things, just things, but nonetheless, hard to leave: anything, it all entails grieving.

Home to sweet rest: to waves of laughter; no more storms to clash against. Now sunlit

gleams over the horizon, fire and comets

shooting across the sky;

dart to and fro; so many spirit filled worlds I want to explore,

get to knowgo to.

'It's your day, your walk, your first step, to

the beyond (so says, my second-self

again!)' 'Twas all I ever knew, this world, everything else surreal! I suppose. I can no more say

what shape I'll be, then when Venice will sink.

I have seen many faces in life, had many

breakfasts: some heavy, some light; watched the soul grow, decay, rise again. All within the next step: which often is, and one never knowssemi-dramatic.

Yes, O yes, we are all part of this marathon,

post Donte? Whom shall inherit my garments? I don't

know, nor care; let Faulkner have them.

I will not dazzle future ages; no, not like Poe, or

Longfellow. Or shall I do tricks, or

showmanship; take the Nobel Prize and shove it; it only limits the visions of the Poet; confounds his wit, and spit he needs to write lyrics, stanzas and sonnets.

The pen and the man, does not always deal with

God's plan, more poets live in a lie,

a burnished-mirror, creating voices they never hear, covered with clouds and clouds

and white shadows, in the great halls of

humanities waste.

Sailing the way of the wind, like us humansdo,

hence, how shall we (or is it I), die? None of

us want to, until the day it happens!...

I lived, dimmed, only by the cascading of time

within me; like a box of scented wood, when the scent left, I was gone, just like the white

shadows above.

Note by the author: we talk about death, because we are born for it. It is natural, and it is a way of telling how much you liked living; or can be. In this fragmented canto-poem, the journey is just a journey. We must live in preparation for the fullness of tomorrow, the next step, the one beyond. Subjective or objective, it can be depending on how you adjust to the direct treatment of things. Things are to me just things, made to be used, moved, and onward. I am a thing, and I must move onward. And because I can reason an afterlife, so there must be one. The transition is the point of contention for most people not the facts. We as humans compose in a sequence, the outcome, when in reality, the result of life, the gift of life, the sadness to leave it behind, is in fact, the product of somebody whispering into your ears: feel the poetry of death, it's but a white shadow, like everything, the unknown, yet the premise has been set: as in a poem. I shall be geared up for death when it comes so I can roam the galaxies, it is my next mission. How do I know this: I bet in time, Venice will sink (how do I know that). #1263 Written: 3/6/06; Modified: 3/7/06

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Showtimes Quotmasters Of Horrorquot

2009-02-01T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Nicky Jones

So here we were,us horror fans just going about our daily lives and seeing our genre very rarely represented on television.When all of a sudden "Masters of Horror" was announced.When it was first announced,we only knew a few things.Mainly that it would be a horror anthology series and it would premier on the Showtime cable network.But little did we know that such a mass of directorial talent would be assembled for the series.In case you don't know what "Masters of Horror" is all about,the skinny on it is it's a horror anthology series which features 13 hour long episodes each one is directed by one of the genres famous directors.Now when I say famous I'm not just talking about some current director whos on a roll no I mean people who have actually mounted a huge body of work and good horror films at that.Mick Garris,Don Coscarelli,Dario Argento,John Carpenter,Roger Corman,William Malone,Stuart Gordon,and the legendary Tobe Hooper.

In my opinion a show like this is long overdue.This isn't just another series that we will have our doubts about and wonder whether or not it will be a total waste to even bother watching.Nor is this a series where we won't want to get too attached because should the ratings drop 1 percentage below the networks liking it will be pulled from television faster than the Terrell Owens and Nicollette Sheridan MNF commercial was.Why? Well two reasons.Number 1 it is set to air on Showtime and when it comes to cable networks it's very rare if they yank a show in the middle of it's first season.Not to mention ratings isn't as important of a game as it is with the network channels.Number two and the most important reason of all,with the directorial talent lined up for this series,I think it's safe to say that were in for a real treat.

In addition to directing their respective episodes,most of the directors also wrote the screenplays for their stories.Which further enhances the chances of all 13 stories being really great in their own right,and it's all here folks.For those of you who are fans of dark urban legends,serial killers,and erotic horror,or if your tastes run more along the lines of zombies,the supernatural,or creature features,believe me,there is an episode here just for you.To put it frankly,"Masters of Horror" has something for every horror fans sub-genre tastes.Including two entries from "Cabin Fever" director Eli Roth and Takashi Miike whos quickly made a name for himself as far as foreign horror directors go here in the states and abroad.Rumor also has it that should the first season be a success,Showtime is strongly considering doing a second season of "MOH".One bit of bad news though,George A. Romero won't be involved as previously thought due to other engagements.However despite his non-involvement,"Masters of Horror" is sure to be very awesome."Masters of Horror" premiers on Showtime conveniently enough starting on October 28th.

Mr. HoRrOr Horror Movies &stuff.com http://www.hms.notlong.com

The Ghosts Of Stephens Branch

2009-01-31T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by David Slone

I once lived, for a short time, in a haunted house. Many readers may be skeptical of this "story" but I assure you that it is true. I have been fascinated with ghosts and the unknown since I was a child. True, a clear explanation of just what ghosts are isn't easy to come up with, but the answer to whether or not ghosts are real can be found.

I was doing odd jobs for a retired couple. They had a house up for sale and needed some maintenance work done around the place. The couple made an offer to me to exchange some work for living in the house rent free. I was asked to tear down and remove an old barn, cut some trees, clear the weeds and keep the grass cut.

The house was a three story including the attic that had been converted into two bedrooms. The stairs ascended through all three floors. My wife and I wondered why the house had stood vacant for so long. We were told that no one had lived in the house for years. The owners of the house lived in a smaller place. Why didn't they live in the better one?

One night, shortly after we moved in, we were laying in bed when I heard some sounds coming from downstairs. It sounded like a party was going on. Music was playing. It was old fashioned Big Band type music and sounded as though it were from the 1940's. I could hear a lot of voices talking. Suddenly there were two voices that got louder. A man and a woman were arguing. Even though I could not make out the actual words that were being said somehow I knew that they were arguing.

I asked my wife is she could her anything. When she said "yes" it sent chills down my spine. I asked her to tell me what she was hearing. She described to me the very same thing that I myself had heard!

We got out of bed and I turned on the light. We could still hear the sounds from downstairs. As we went down the steps we turned the lights on as soon as we came to the switches. When we got to the second floor landing the sounds stopped.

We looked in all the rooms downstairs and were talking about what had happened when the sounds stated up once again. This time they seemed to be coming from upstairs. We decided to get our daughter from her room and all sleep downstairs for the night.

Several days later I was talking to an old man who had lived in the area for most of his life. I asked him if there were any strange stories to do with the house. I didn't tell him about my experience yet. He said that a long time ago there had been a murder in the house. He didn't remember the details of what had happened.

It wasn't long before the owners of the house asked us to move out. When I asked for an explanation they only said that they didn't think it was a good idea for anyone to live there. I think they heard about my conversation with the old man - they did know each other.

I may never know what happened in that house sometime long ago but I am convinced that there was a ghostly presence there. Both of us were wide awake and heard the very same things that night. Take it from me, Ghosts are Real!

About The Author:

Copyright 2006 David Slone. Visit Ghosts and Hauntings for more true ghost stories. Free content articles you can use on your website, ezine or newsletter. You may republish this article on your website provided author information and active link(s) are left intact.

A Short History Of Printed Art

2009-01-30T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Michael Russell

The oldest and most well-known graphic art prints were first produced by woodcut printing. The Chinese were the first to make religious woodcut prints though they never became prominent print designers. The Japanese learned wood cutting and woodcarving techniques from the Chinese and Koreans and went on to produce some of the most prized prints today. The first of these prints were created in black and white and decades later, the Japanese began printing in three colors. At around 1700, they began to use eight to 11 blocks of colors to produce more sophisticated works. One of the big differences between Western and Oriental woodcut art is the way that changes of shade are achieved. For example, in the East, the watercolor is brushed on the surface of the wood block like in a painting, while in the West, shading is achieved by the increasing the degree of engraving and the depth of the designs carved in the wood block.

In Europe during the Middle Ages, woodcuts were primarily used to make fabric designs. Playing cards and religious pictures were also the first products of European printers. After the invention of movable type, history books and Bibles began to be filled with woodcut illustrations.

There are three main methods of making prints. The oldest one is the relief method where the print is carved on a raised surface. Woodcuts are the most popular form of relief painting. It could be tedious because the artist would first get a block of wood and cut away the background from this design. The design was then slowly inked and printed.

The second printing method is called "intaglio" and is the opposite of relief printing. In "intaglio", the print is made from the lines of areas which have been cut or burned away. After the drawing has been carved on a metal plate, the plate is covered with ink. Damp paper is placed on the top of the plate and when the paper and plates are run through the press, the paper he lifts the ink from the lines.

A third method is known as the planographic process. Lithography is the most common type of planographic printing. Slabs of limestone are the most commonly used materials, although lithographs can be made from metal sheets. Lithography was invented in 1796 and was primarily used as a cheap method to produce music sheets. The lithograph first won popularity in France because it was less complicated and cheaper to use than woodcuts and was better suited to mass production. Europeans started to use it as a means to print political propaganda, wall decorations and book illustrations.

The invention of photography ended the use of prints to produce paintings and reproductions. Silk screen also became one of the more popular ways to produce mass prints. Most 20th-century artists have attempted to make prints. Prints are so seldom used today because they are no longer are created for mass-produced publications. So today, a print, whether carved, etched, designed, or printed by the artist himself, is now acknowledged as a precious work of art. But unlike a painting of which there is only one "original", a print can yield up to 50 originals. For this reason, an artist's print can usually cost less than one of his original paintings. However, many great art collections and galleries have been started with the purchase of a single print.

Michael Russell Your Independent guide to Arts

Toys Playdoh

2009-01-29T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Michael Russell

2A can of...Well, nobody's really sure what Play-Doh is as its composition is a very closely guarded secret. As a matter of fact, Play-Doh was originally invented to be a wallpaper cleaner and even has a patent for this use. The patent number is U.S. Patent 3,167,440. It was granted to Noah McVicker and Joseph McVicker. Ultimately, these two men realized that they could make more money selling this stuff as a toy than as a wallpaper cleaner. So in 1956 they created Rainbow Crafts to sell their new product.

The thing that most people liked about Play-Doh was that it was non toxic. You could actually eat this stuff and not get sick. The salty taste may not be very appealing but it was certainly not going to kill you. And believe it or not, kids did try to eat this stuff. Drove their parents absolutely up a wall.

Play-Doh was one of the first toys to make its way into schools and daycare centers. It was a simple enough toy that kids could play with and not need a lot of supervision and was versatile enough that you were limited only by your imagination as to what you could actually do with the stuff, which basically came in can and in a variety of colors. Since all the colors were still made of the same substance, you could mix them together with no problem. Of course after doing this it was hard to get each color back into its own can.

The year 1960 was a very big year for Play-Doh because this was the year that the company came up with its first mascot, Play-Doh Pete. The original drawing of this cute little boy had him wearing a smock and a beret. Later on the beret was replaced by a backwards baseball cap. The mascot was put on every single can of Play-Doh that was sold and became as well known as the toy itself.

Also in 1960 the first Play-Doh accessory was created. This was the extremely popular Play-Doh Fun Factory. The Fun Factory was basically a device that you pushed the Play-Doh through to make all kinds of different shapes such as stars, circles and squares. You could chop up these shapes and serve them as food to the kid's dolls. But the Fun Factory wasn't the end of the Play-Doh accessories.

Play-Doh next came out with the Fuzzy Pumper Barber and Beauty Shop. After that they came out with Dr, Drill N Fill. These were all plastic molds. The barber shop was rather unique for its time. The Play-Doh was pushed through this plastic head that made it look like hair. You then took these plastic scissors to cut the hair and style it. Very clever stuff for the 60s.

Eventually, Play-Doh was taken over by Hasbro and they came out with a ton of food preparation machines as that was where things seemed to be going at the time. Everybody wanted to cook. Around this time you also saw things like Suzy Bake Oven and Creepy Crawlers food molds.

But with all the fancy accessories, most kids are just happy to take the stuff out of the can and run their hands through it.

Sometimes, simple is the best.

Michael Russell

Your Independent guide to Toys

David Blaine Bringing People Together

2009-01-28T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dion Semeniuk

David Blaine is one of a kind. He is a mysterious man that puts his mind and body through extreme conditions. His latest stunt that was televised live on national TV, called "Drowned Alive", drew thousands of people together to witness his attempt to hold his breath under water for 9 minutes.

David Blaine had become famous initially for his natural ability to shock people with his slight of hand card tricks, and also his mind blowing magic tricks that would send people screaming down the streets not wanting to believe what they just had witnessed. But now, Blaine has been becoming more of a man that will test the limits of his body. There is no smoke and mirrors. There are no cards involved. It is just Blaine himself, his body and his spirit performing some of the most interesting attempts of mind over matter.

His latest attempt was to live underwater for a week and then attempt to hold his breath for 9 minutes to break the world record of 8 minutes and 58 seconds. But of course he had to be chained up under water also to make it more challenging for him.

Well in the end, Blaine failed at achieving the world record as he fell short of the record by just under 2 minutes. Still, very impressive. But did Blaine really fail?

As David Blaine spoke after being rescued my divers to pull him out of the water, he was "humbled" as to all the support he had received from people all around the world. What David Blaine attempted to do was break a world record, but what really happened was to show how people come together and get behind something.

If you look back at all his other attempts of putting his body under great stress, there is one common theme that occurs. It's the gathering of people. David Blaine realized what he was doing was also bringing people of all walks of life together all rooting and cheering together. Everybody's differences and problems were set aside. Whether he fails to break a world record, or manages not to endure his latest attempt of stress on his body, it's about the magic that he brings to the people and the power he can demonstrate to other people that if you really want to achieve something in life, you can. Just use your mind and take action.

Dion Semeniuk is the owner of the popular online Magic Trick Store, This is Magic! To learn more about magic and receive free David Blaine Tricks, please visit http://www.thisismagic.com

Fabulous Crafts And Games For Your Princess Party

2009-01-27T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Annette Yen

You have invited the royal guests and have planned a menu that would make any queen proud. The guests will be arriving soon with great expectation of fun and all things pink! You're having a Princess Party!

Here are some easy and fun ideas for games and crafts to make your party the best one in the kingdom.

1. Make a tiara: These days at almost any craft store you can find precut fun foam princess tiaras and decorations for next to nothing. Purchase some glitter glue and a few extra sparkly gems and your princess and her guests will stay busy for quite some time. Make sure they all put their names inside the crowns so that after the glue and glitter glue dries, they'll know which is theirs. Don't forget to take a picture with everyone wearing the crowns.

2. Musical Princess Slipper: This is a fun and easy game that takes no prep work at all. Have the party guests and princess of honor stand in a circle. Using a nice dress shoe (or glass slipper if you happen to have one!) start with the birthday girl and have the girls pass the slipper around the circle while music plays in the background. When the music stops, the guest holding the slipper jumps out of the circle and becomes the girl in charge of the music. Continue on until only one girl is left and she's the princess winner.

3. Pin the crown on the frog: Another great variation of a traditional birthday party game that kids have loved for ages. You'll need a large drawing of a frog on poster board and several construction paper crowns with double stick tape on the back. Each party guest gets a turn at being blindfolded and trying to stick the crown onto the top of the frog's head. Make it even harder by making each child spin around 3 times before heading toward the frog. No peeking. Other variations of this game (depending on your artwork) are: Pin the kiss on the frog, Pin the slipper on the princess, Pin the jewel on the crown, etc. Have fun!

4. Princess treasure chests: Purchase inexpensive paper mache boxes at your local craft store. Use stickers, jewels and beads with tacky glue and have the girls decorate their treasure chest. Include some candy or other trinkets to put inside.

5. Decorate princess crown cookies: Another favorite with young girls...decorating cookies. Purchase an inexpensive crown cookie cutter and make 2 cookies per girl (just in case they break). Allow to cool before decorating. Then put out pink frosting, candies and other fun edible items and let the girls frost and decorate. Then let them eat the cookies as part of their snack, or wrap them in plastic wrap to take home as part of the take home gift.

6. Princess silhouettes: This is a fun "craft" for girls that are a bit older. Using a blank wall as backdrop, tape a large piece of butcher paper to the wall. Have each princess sit on the throne and shine a very bright light so that it casts a shadow onto the wall and paper. But here's the fun part. Place a paper crown on her head so that it casts the obvious shadow as well. Then with a black marker, trace around her silhouette onto the butcher paper. Remove the butcher paper from the wall and either leave as is or have the girls decorate the crown for a different effect.

Create fun at your next princess party with these games and crafts. Make sure you have the camera handy for the whole event to keep the memories alive too. Enjoy and happy princess partying!

Annette Yen invites you to her website http://www.iloveprincessparties.com to find everything you need for the perfect princess party.

The Wild Man And Wild Woman Of Canadian First Nations Art

2009-01-26T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Clint Leung

Two of the more interesting characters from the Northwest coast Canadian First Nations art world include the Wild Man and the Wild Woman of the woods. These two are often portrayed in very dramatic looking masks carved by Northwest coast Canadian First Nations artists.

The Wild Man of the woods from Canadian First Nations art is called Bak'was and is a small human-like creature who lives in the forest. He has deep round eyes that are sunken into his sockets and brows that jut out forward. His cheeks are hollow, his mouth is often grimacing and his nose appears like a hooked beak. It is said that the Wild Man can sometimes be seen early in the morning on the beach collecting cockles which are a type of mollusk as his food. The Wild Man is also considered the chief of ghosts and spirits of people who drowned are often hovering near him. Humans must beware of the Wild Man tempting others to join him for a meal. If one eats some of the Wild Man's food, one will turn into a being just like him.

In contrast to the Wild Man, the Wild Woman of the woods or Dzunuk'wa as she is known, is a giant powerful and fearsome figure twice the size of humans. From Northwest coast Canadian First Nations art and legend, she is a dark and hairy ogress with supernatural powers. Her almost blind eyes are also large and sunken like those of the Wild Man but sometimes they have a red glow. She is usually portrayed making her wild call ("Uh, huu, uu, uu") with her open mouth and thick red puckered lips. It is said that if children foolishly wander into the forest, the Wild Woman will capture them and eat them. The Wild Woman carries a basket on her back which contains the children that she caught.

Fortunately, she is not considered very bright and usually the children are able to outsmart her in escaping. Interestingly enough, even though the Wild Woman represents the dark and dangerous side of the forests, she is also a bringer of wealth for some Northwest coast Canadian First Nations tribes. A Wild Woman mask can be considered somewhat of a status symbol that only some powerful and rich Northwest coast Canadian First Nations families have.

Clint Leung is owner of Free Spirit Gallery http://www.FreeSpiritGallery.ca, an online gallery specializing in Inuit Eskimo and Northwest Native American art including carvings, sculpture and prints. Free Spirit Gallery has numerous information resource articles with photos of authentic Inuit and Native Indian art as well as free eCards.

Mort Du Gilligan

2009-01-25T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Steve Sommers

For his time, William Shakespeare wasn't considered all that hot a writer. His plays were thought to pander to the vulgar masses being at the same time the modern day equivalent of either Soap Operas or Sit cons. Bob Denver's passing made me wonder if in three or four hundred years time Gilligan's Island won't be considered the pinnacle of the Dramatic Arts, much as the Bard's plays are considered now.

Think about it: In three or four hundred years time, no one will really understand twentieth century English, anymore than we understand Elizabethan English. We think Shakespeare is so great mostly because we don't know what the hell they're friggin' talking about, you know, all those 'Hither's' and ' thee's' and 'yon's". So, we all pretend we do and nod solemnly and praise the 'beautiful' language when we really don't want to look stupid. Centuries from now it will be the same with Gilligan's Island. Our descendents will be 'oohing' and 'ahhing' over the beautiful language of this show.

As envisioned by creator Sherwood Schwartz, Gilligan's Island was meant to be Social Commentary using the metaphor of cast-a-ways trapped on an island, each one of the cast-a-ways was iconic of an American segment of society. The interaction between the characters would be symbolic of the interaction in our cultures. Thus, you have Mr. Howell and his wife representing the American Upper classes, The Skipper representing the working classes, The professor representing the intelligentsia, Ginger the entertainment sector, Mary Ann the rural Midwest and Gilligan ... all of us. Gilligan was the American Everyman.

As with The Tempest, the island setting represented the deep psychological underpinnings of the story. Here you have a world unto itself separated from civilization, a Hobbesian state of nature where life is nasty, brutish and short. Thus it is human nature itself.

By the way, if you're a High School or College student looking for stuff to steal for a term paper ... go ahead and steal this. None of these ideas are mine, anyways. And it's not really plagiarism if it's already been copied from somewhere else in the first place, so feel free to use this all you want. What's that? Just a second .....

Oh. I just found out it is plagiarism. I'm sorry. My Bad.

There also is the Religious interpretation of Gilligan's Island. This interpretation has each of the cast-a-ways representing one of the seven deadly sins in a sort of morality play. The Howells represent Greed, of course. The Skipper represents Gluttony, that one's obvious, too. Gilligan is Sloth ... I think. Ginger is Vanity. The professor is pride, because he's so pround of how smart he is and Mary Ann .... she doesn't seem so sinful, but I know there was one that was supposed to represent her.

Bob Denver by all accounts was a very intelligent and talented actor. You'd have to think that it would take a genius to play the part of such a boob to perfection. Denver's career, I have to believe, must have been forever crippled by brilliance of his character portrayal, such that he was never offered another acting role of merit because he had forever captured that one role to perfection, and was condemned ever after to live in that twilight world of Conventions and Super Market openings.

Now, please remove your hats and sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip

Steve Sommers is the author of Breakfast with the Antichrist. Visit his Website at http://www.breakfastwiththeantichrist.com

Magic Tricks

2009-01-24T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Marcus Peterson

Hocus-pocus, abracadabra, are words all have heard as children when they were amazed by the tricks of the man in the black tuxedo. These words form part of simpler times in life, where before adulthood, fairytales are real and magicians can actually do the impossible.

Most people believe that tricks are all there is to magic. The reality of magic and witchcraft is not a question for them, but rather unquestionable fakery. Magic tricks are designed to please such a crowd, which inevitably forms a majority at most gatherings. Children especially, are popular audiences for magic tricks since they are the most avid believers. Adults may see the trickery of the trap doors and smoke screens, but children marvel at the magic. They have no need to question the tricks because they believe what they see is true and that is the real magic.

Magic tricks can be of many varieties, but they all involve hoodwinking audiences with the dexterity of the hand. Magicians performing card tricks take in to account the tendency of the individual to ignore their actions when picking the card. Elaborate tricks use many gimmicks to divert attention from the main-stage to complete tricks such as beautiful assistants and fireworks. Mirrors and partitions placed at strategic locations make disappearances and conjuring tricks work. The catch-a-bullet-in-the-mouth or the William Tell tricks are some of the most common, projecting to the public the bravado of the live targets. Most times however, the gun is never discharged, only fired to produce a bang and the bullet is found where it had always been in the 'fearless' magician's mouth. The arrows, though released are reeled back and a fake one simultaneously pops out over the targets head.

With the appearance of magicians such as David Blain, it has become harder for people to accept the televised magic as a simple amalgamation of tricks. After all, no one is supposed to fool all the people, all the time and so such magic must be real. The ability to control matter with the mind and perform magic without the use of trickery is rare. In fact its existence has never been documented or proved. But then again, it has not been disproved either.

Magic provides detailed information on Magic, Magic Tricks, Black Magic, Magic Spells and more. Magic is affiliated with Magic Card Tricks.

How To Look For Economical Paintings

2009-01-23T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Travis Jones

Don't we all love to buy a Virtruvian man by Da Vinci and hang it over the fireplace so our friends can come and ogle at the painting and say that what a fine master piece it is and that you have a definite eye and class for paintings of such high quality? Unfortunately such a painting not only costs millions but the real ones just hang in museums.

So what exactly is the solution to buying such quality art work at dirt cheap price? So every man could boast of owning a cryptically smiling Mona Lisa. The answer is simple and right in front of you. Just with a few click of the mouse you could be the owner of Whistlers mother staring at the wall in front of her. In all the divine glory of last supper displayed over you lobby is a reality.

Well how is it really possible that too at a price less than a hundred bucks? Believe me it is. There are hordes of talented artists who could replicate these high quality designs for you, make you the proud owner of stunning portraits and landscapes you could only dream of.

Now there are all sorts of sites advertising for such paintings, but most of them don't sell cheap. Far from it they are even priced at thousands of dollars. Now why would a sane person, would want to buy an art work which would punch a huge hole in their pocket? So next question is where is that place where you could get such a painting and that too at throw away price.

The answer is sites that owned by artist from countries where the dollar amounts to a lot more than that of the west. So the simple equation is, there are real high quality artists if not better but on par with the western artists. For whom the income in dollars if less still would amount to more than what they could bargain for. The result: amazing art work at awesome tags.

So which country has such proficient artists to boast of? Look to the Far East, china even traditionally boasts of artists as early as early 16th century. Amazing art work with pigments, which last even today Buddha who is portrayed in various art forms has been the hallmark of Oil paints from Far East. The art is not restricted the eastern form. The artist have adapted to the demand of the western world they can do any art ranging from abstract, cubism to even customized portraits.

Here is a list of tips to watch out for when on the look out for Quality Oil paintings:

1. Look for previous art work, a catalog perhaps.
2. See if the site provides what you are looking for, if not do they provide custom work.
3. Look for paintings that fall under a economy section.
4. Check to see if there is any quality compromise based on the reduction in cost.
Finally check to see if they provide a safe transaction (Discussed in the next article How safe it is to buy art from an offshore internet shop?).

About the author
Travis Jones recommends Canvaz (http://www.canvaz.com/) for genuine work of art in Oil paint and frames to go with it.

Advantages Of 360degree Vision Devices

2009-01-21T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Lance Winslow

Humans do not have 360-degree vision. Think about why we have evolved this way and what it means to the vision and what we will have to do to improve upon Mother Nature's excellent design. We have drawings of such 360-Degree Vision Device, which provides surround-a-vision in a head mounted night vision goggle unit. If we take this device and load it with the wearable type computers we can produce a VR state within the real world, which will allow us to do more tasks quicker and more efficient than ever before. An augmented reality if you will of the 360-degree 3D world that we live and interact with.

There would be fewer pilot error or human error type accidents in many dangerous professions, which require lots of skill and instantaneous response and lightning reflexes. Things such as fighting a war, racing motorcycles, flying aircraft or fighting a war, are obvious examples, but they might also be good for police officers, airport screeners, teachers in inner city schools, prison guards, life guards, ambulance technicians, first responders, fire fighters, etc. It could certainly liven up certain sporting events and even eliminate the need for so many rear view mirrors on cars and thus provide greater efficiency, less drag, fuel economy and safety. But these are only a few ideas really as entrepreneurs see such new technologies they will obviously create more uses for them as they find niches where people are willing to trade for such things. By freeing up the massive amounts of interpretation, which goes on in the visual part of the brain, we could move more agile, quicker, with cat like reflexes. The eyes could certainly work faster in delivery and the brain could use a hand in reducing the extra extraneous data, we might consider as depth, definition or detail while our mind interprets the data, asks for further scrutiny and receives that data and makes an assessment, all before we even lift a finger in response. Think about it.

Lance Winslow - Online Think Tank forum board. If you have innovative thoughts and unique perspectives, come think with Lance; www.WorldThinkTank.net/wttbbs/

Planet Of Gray Dawn A Saga Of Quotsiren The Greatquot Part Iii To The Planet Ssarg Chapters 11

2009-01-20T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Chapter 11 "Hell Dogs!"

"Of my wanderings I will briefly will tell, it was not like SSARG, or other planets, I roamed the hillside along ways, often hungrybeasts, savage as were kept on any planet, saw me, yet kept their distance, I think I had the smell of the Saneyhs still on my body, and surely in my cloths.

"I slept in caves with a fire by my side, encircled it somewhat, so the beasts wouldn't creep up if I could not instinctively sense them. There were no high trees of any kind, just savage beasts outside my caves each and every night catching the warmth of the fire as it drifted outside my entrance. I slew a few for dinner, evil doges, hell doges I called them, fangs as big as a walruses. The meat was tough, and close to the bone, a wild taste I had not had before, like sucking on a leather belt. I was surviving though, and that was all, perhaps like the cavemen on earth, long ago: ancestors, primitive savages of earth, now I was one, I was one of them, I had only the leopard men's cloth to keep me warm, the cloths they had given me, in the middle of a savage universe. It was a battle for existence and that only.

" Each day I would wait for the sun, and during the two plus hours of sun, I would rest under its glorious rays sucking up all the vitamin D I needed to activate my chemicals in my body, to reproduce what it needed to rebuild my immune system, for it was dying, and then came in the gray mist, a pale dawn of sorts, and my system would break down again. Perhaps that is why I loved SSARG or Earth, but didn't care for Moiromma, it had little sun, not as little as this planet, but little in consideration of earth.

I knew if I died this time, there would be no resurrection onto another planet, thus, vigilance was necessary for longer life. But on the other hand, danger lurked at ever corner of this valley, and its central plateaus."

Chapter 12 Siren's Philosophies On the Pale Planet

"Not sure if I was fully alive on this planet, that phrase, has more depth to it than I can express. Most people on earth just walk through decades blurred, on the surface of life, not fully alive, (so Siren told herself as she wandered the mounds and valley by herself for several months). Everything on the planet was like a flicker of light, weakly lit, then came a brighter one for two hours a day. These weeks and months life hammered at my brain as if it was burned out of life's orbit; now it was occupied with gathering firewood, food and all the basic needs. As I faced big jawed inhabitants, tormented by hell dogs, the moon oozing in and out of the planets orbit like a yoyo, it never ceased, each day was very predictable, perhaps that was good for the village folk, but for me it was, deadly.

"When I wandered about, I did find one quality or asset, I never had much of before, to think, to produce philosophies of life I suppose, to soul search as they say on earth, to roam all the inner valleys of ones mind. Perhaps the great God of the Universe gives each creature of reason this period to prepare themselves for death, for something, because during youth, one is to wild, too busy, too carefree, or careless to do any such thing, lest they find themselves imprisoned."

Chapter 13 Hell Dogs and Bear Beasts

[Beast Lake] As Siren ventured into the surrounding area, perhaps within a five hundred miles radius, she saw several hideous hell-dogs, fighting with a bear beast; they had three heads on them. She had killed a few in the past by stoning them to death by surprise, but this was not going to happen now, there were too many of them.

Close by a lake, she called 'Beast Lake,' she encountered these dogs battling it out with a hung 20-foot mother bear trying to protect her five foot cub. The creek was full of water, indicating precious space fish available for whomever could secure the rights to that little section, she watched in amazement as the giant bear tossed the hell dogs about, so Siren had told me with a glaring voice.

Said Siren with a quivering voice, "She had previous experience with these deadly dogs, and I with those deadly rats on SSARG, in both cases they seem to have had a high intelligence for their kind, and the hell dogs had tricks to corner the bear. Now She has a blood spotted hide, I could see it from the bushes I stood behindI expected the giant bear to fall to its death at any moment, but its mother instinct would not let it, while the cub was in danger, again as in my old days, I found myself wanting to rise to the rescue, as I jumped into the battle, it stirred the dogs from the bear to me. The dogs sprung up at me, and with my stone chiseled knife I ripped the guts open of three, cut the throat of the forth one, and he went down crawling on the ground like a worm. Then the giant bear got back into its murderous mode, and with its powerful arms and claws, it disemboweled the five other dogs, killed one at a time quicker than you could make a 360-degree turn."

Chapter 14 Bear Beast Battle

"All the hell-dogs stiffened convulsively and lay dead a small distance from the lake. The bear-beasts grabbed its cub, looked at me, troubled, confused, but felt no threat from me, nor I of her for some reason we were not rivals for the moment. The bear's claws had torn into the flesh of all five dogs, their fangs torn out of their heads, their bellies opened and their insides poured out onto the ground in a wide pool of blood.

"I built a fire as the cub and her mother ate the five dogs, and I was allowed to tare some of the meat off the bones as well, of course mine I cooked, and theirs well, they ate raw.

"I had no more stamina, I had to rest for three days thereafter that enduring battle, and the young mother stood by as if to insure no one harmed me, or her cub. She knew I was weakened, and perhaps knew who I was, and was surprised I was weakened. She was bulky, hairy and a giant taller than I, and more savage in appearance than the ones I've seen so many years ago.

"On the forth day, I saw twenty more hairy brut bears running towards our camp, as if they had gotten some radar signal from mother bear, whom was in trouble. With a great snarl, the bear-beasts coming at me, stood down, as they stood by their mate, checking her out, hissing over her and the cub. And they obeyed her every intention."

Chapter 15 The Kongardog Plains

"As I walked down the along side the side of the lake, and then the river that connected to it, Big bear and Junior Bear, as I got to calling them, I noticed in may places, the birds were of many colors, shapes, hues. They almost few silently, had it not been for the movement of the branch movements when they leaped. Some then world perch on large rocks, some gave out weird cries. All kept their distance form the bear and me. A few of the birds reached deep with their beaks to catch a space fish, almost skeletonized, as most are, but very nutritious.

"I walked for days and Mother Bear just followed me, then I shifted westward, and she still followed along, like a duck. There in the plains, I call the Kongardog Plains; I come upon a most curious animal, the pot-bellied dogs, otherwise known as the Kongardog.

"I had heard these animals were helpless to defend themselves (no claws or teeth; only paws and gums) and were great eating, but try to catch one of them, that is a feat in itself. Big Bear slapped one in the belly as it ran to get away from Big Bear, and jumped several feet in the air likened to a kangaroo, but when it fell from its leap, we had dinner, the slap was so powerful, it knocked the wind out of the dog, I do believe, and as it tried to catch its breath, Big Bear had already torn off its limps. I think I laughed so hard, Big Bear couldn't help but grin, and take notice, if not satisfaction."

Chapter 16 The Plains

"I felt a little safer on the plainsless meat-eaters to contend with. The nights were chilled, but the sun on the plains came out longer perhaps, all of four hours a day. Less greenness, and less water, yes, less everything, but meat eaters, as I said before, were less also, which was a blessing I felt, and search in vain one will for a good habitat.

"I noticed on the tenth-day I was with the Bear, she was eating the rocks, of which had a certain color and design to them, unknown on Planet Toso, Earth or even SSARG. They were all a bit orange looking. As I lay about, I watched the bear conspicuously, if not patiently, she picked out the smallest of the orange rocks, and when she went to chew them, a sap came out of them. A hot and soft sap; I then picked up one and put it into my mouth, and pushed down on it slowly, in which I felt safe doing since Big Bear did, then I chewed it, and it busted open, sweet as honey it was, thus, this was how the bears survived in crossing the plains, when they did."

Chapter 17 Orion's Moon/Homeless

Siren had drifted for months on the plains, it was more peaceful and the two bears, the cub and Big Bear followed her, homeless they all seemed to be. At night they'd look up at Orion, as they called it, the only moon the planet had, darkness gloomed around it, it seemed, except for its occasional light, reflections from a star (or sun) perhaps in their solar system, or beyond. The moon on its surface was perhaps as mysterious on it as it looked, and it looked more like a big asteroid than a moon. But nonetheless, it gave light as if the sun hid behind it halfway, even during its best exposure.

It was going to be a long life, Siren figured, if she didn't come up with a plan for it, or perhaps a short one. She had built a city fortress on SSARG, but she didn't have the energy, help, or motivation to do that here. Her daughter was someplace in the universe, and her mother likewise, in some unknown spot. Planet SSARG's moon perhaps, she had friends there, and life supporting elements for a ghost of her kind. So she was alone, Tangor and Rognat, her one-time space companions, were both gone other places in the Universe equally.

End Chapter [part of #17]

Tangor's Report of Sirens Death

I talked to Siren before I had discovered her death, and as I was told, it happened like this (according to Tangor):

"A heavy chain was wrapped around her like a snake, it was by way of several Jawbone members, as Siren had called them. They had found her with her friend, Big Bear and her cub; they, the seven Jawbones, took huge blocks of stone and hurled them onto the three, killing the cub and knocking unconscious Big Bear. That is when they chained her, with those strange looped chains. When she awoke her head was throbbing of course, she had not been killed yet. A rock had grazed her head only, and her recuperative powers brought her back to full life.

The missile or rock, inflicted, caused a scalp would, but infected it was. As they carried her back to their village, hundreds of miles, she died on the way. So simply a death for such a hero, it is hard to digest. I would guess the long walk, the shackles, the wound, dehydration, the infection, and the cold, it all played a part in her death. And the Leopard men spoke with primitive resentment towards me, snarling, but my weapons froze them in their tracks, with fear, thus, when I killed three of them, simply by pulling the trigger, of my space gun, I evaporated them in front of there own kind, this provoked no more wishful thinking of overpowering me. And there is really no more to say, on the matter, I'm sorry.

Note: History of the story: originally started at the café, El Parquetito's in Lima, Peru, on 6/28/2006, done in chapter form, in the first and third persons, as it changes from chapter to chapter, or can, so it originally was constructed to do. Chapters 12 to through 14 written and constructed 7/3/2006; Chapter 15 and 16, written July 4, on America's Independence day, holiday, in Lima, Peru, as well as the end chapter, #17; October, 28,2006, chapter 14 through the end was typed from the written form on the back of the restaurant's napkins.

See Dennis' web site: dennissiluk.tripod.com

Art Gallery Website Develop Your Own Art Site Or Use A Service

2009-01-19T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Igor Rubinsky

Common Issues: Develop private web site by yourself or use a service from professionals.

1. In the present multinational and multicultural world all art galleries still can be grouped into three branches.

On the first place big national and regional or big municipal galleries and museums with many halls, exhibitions and many visitors. On the second place smaller gallery-like retail shops. On the third place we see galleries that exhibit artwork of a very limited number of artists.

If we follow numbers here, there are about 36000 different business' in US that associate themselves to art galleries of various types. Only 5-10 % of them own a website. Those who have a website are using it only as an information page or kind of brochure barely giving a small fraction of idea of what their gallery is about, not to say about what items people can see when visiting them. To be precise nearly all these websites have been developed by a friend or a somewhat skillful acquaintance who supports 5 to 20 of other websites, and pay him regularly for support and updates. In some cases a website is developed by a smart child of the gallery owners.

Online is beneficial. When you are looking for an artwork to make your walls look beautiful, you will definitely go to some neighboring art gallery. Yet in many cases you will have to be content with something they have, rather then with what you would like to have on your wall. The solution here can be in using some general use art catalog, which exists in print or in the Internet (in rare cases both). For expensive art these figures make the following ratio as of more then 99% are sold through physical galleries to less then 1% through art catalogs and Internet. For not expensive art the ratio is like 80% to 20%, and is steadily changing to favor the later. Expensive art is appearing in online catalogs faster but is sold primarily through physical galleries. This fact should not surprise anyone. At this point one should notice a tendency for the non expensive art to move online to be sold from just being exposed in physical galleries. The rate of none expensive art production is really enormous and already faces the problem of sales. There is no physical gallery that could allow itself exhibit all items it has in stock. Various catalogs could be the solution, and the best way of exposure could be developing and promoting a personal website on the Internet. It's far less expensive then renting several large halls for a few months run in order to allow a limited number of people who live nearby to see it. Rather, one should go online and let literarily everyone on the planet to visit it with no limitation in time.

2. The failure of many galleries has already been vivid due to a lack in either physical or online component. Those who successfully combine both parts are really lucky in their business.

3. What makes galleries go online?

a. Local advertising in newspapers, radio, cable-tv, hotels, restaurants becomes more sensible, because people can easily get the idea of a new exhibition and decide which hall or which items they would like to see on the first priority.

b. It's easier to keep in touch with visitors. Another side of accumulating constant visitors.

c. Online is not limited in space, one can exhibit everything he has not caring for space it occupies. Online is better for not expensive items, while physical exhibition is good for expensive art, when people have to see it live. Or even everything can be exhibited online, and visitors vote to see some items on physical gallery.

4. How galleries go online?

a. Some galleries develop their own website and face an issue of promoting it. The tricky point here is they can do it good only for local advertisement, and in order to advertise it worldwide one needs to add way too much effort to promote his own website and/or exhibit it through an already popular website (it helps to avoid double effort on information input). Like it was realized on http://www.gallery-worldwide.com/ and http://www.russian-gww.com/ the point in these 2 sites is that all artwork were uploaded only once, and are shared by both sites.

b. In order to sell art worldwide one needs to have a high ranked websites developed by professionals

c. Online gallery is an indispensable tool in bringing in new visitors to the physical gallery, so it's part of local advertisement techniques

d. The gallery manager will have to make a choice between making a new website from scratch and using a service from already established website produced and supported by the internet gurus

e. In case on takes his own way he must consider both the development and support of his own site

f. Development as a matter of fact costs 500-5000$. Buying a service is a lot cheaper. In case of same price service quality is better.

g. Supporting a website in average takes about 200$ per month and up to 500$ depending on a skill of a webmaster. Also in this case webmaster is limited by his own activities and sometimes supports upto 20 different websites at the same time. The later makes him very difficult to add changes to the website fast and sometimes would take about few weeks to complete necessary updates. Buying a service galleries pay less and get immediate changes.

h. It's always a matter of price and quality. Development of the website is only the first step. Support takes much longer time and larger effort.

Service price varies at the value 300$ per month. If you find it for 150$ then grab and run.

Internet technologies are developing too fast today. There is a number of sites providing the described services at different levels of quality. So one has to investigate the market and find the best fitting solution for himself.

Waste money to develop a wheel or learn it from someone who already did it?

Igor Rubinsky

http://www.gallery-worldwide.com/
http://www.russian-gww.com
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Free Ecards For Your Favorite Ehuman

2009-01-18T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Martin Hurley

What's great about sending free ecards to your friends?

Well, apart from everything, it's an easy thing to do. It's so easy it's just an email away. Your email will fly through space and your friend will develop the smile. First, it's the curiosity. Then, after they see, it's the smile...

Big smile or small smile... It's the thought that counts. You see, you matter. You are important, and what better and easier way to share your thoughts and feelings than with superb free ecards. As I was told once when I was exploring avenues into pursuing commercial photography, people don't hire folios, they hire people.

That made me realize that individuality does matter. Friendliness does matter, and so does attitude. We all have our own uniqueness. We're all wonderful in our own special way. Even the most bizarre artists amongst us (!) might agree it's important to make this moment matter, to make the now important. To celebrate what we have.

And a good way to do that is by continued, and regular, contact with your family or friends. If it's business, then even your most preferred clients or business associates hold potential for high quality, well considered, free ecards emailed to them. Like all good business association, you'll want to check that one thoroughly before taking action steps...

Personal electronic greetings R U:

Free ecards are really just personal electronic greetings... A simple hello, how are you note added to a lovely photograph of your choice. Regular contact will keep you in the flavor... It's always nice to tell family and friends that you really care about them... (And that you're in some amazing remote village that has a great internet cafe!)

But how? Well most of us are connected by email nowadays. It's never too far away. And what a cool way to explore the world of the net by sending free e-cards. Of course, free is a good thing. And secondly... look up Yann Arthus Bertrand's brilliant e-cards... That'll explain things better!

The beauty of this is that you can tell a little story with the image you send. The picture might better express, or further clarify what you mean. You have a whole wide worldly range of possibilities. See below for how the process works...

Sending and Receiving Free eCards:

You simply select a card, type your greeting and send it to your chosen recipient. You can choose to send the card immediately or at a selected future date. Your recipient will receive a ticket number by email, which will enable him or her to pick up the free ecard from this website.

You, the sender, will receive an email notification when the card has been picked up.

Simple eh?

Hey, make sure you send one to me too!

Martin Hurley is a motivational dude, artist, photographer and netrepreneur who enthuses creativity, marketing and life knowledge. Get your unique down to earth approach to life success by visiting: http://HurleyPix.com

-> PS If you use my article... please make sure you make the above link 'hot' (ie make it a live link back to my site... thanks. You can delete this line too :-) <-

Hollywood

2009-01-17T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Rosana Hart

Hollywood! For so many years the very word has evoked romance, glamour, and a place where dreams can come wildly true... the American dream, anyone's dream.

Hollywood has had an ever-changing history. Ironically, it was named by a couple of conservative prohibitionists in the 1880s. Harvey Wilcox, from Kansas, was selling lots to Midwesterners with the idea that they could winter in California. His wife met a woman on a train who had a home called Hollywood, and Mrs. Wilcox liked the name so much that she and her husband decided to use it for their project. In 1903 the region incorporated as Hollywood and then in 1910, to take advantage of the plentiful water in Los Angeles, it became part of that city.

The next year the first film studio opened, and over time Hollywood blossomed into the dream-maker that it would remain. Movie stars, elegant restaurants, nightclubs, romance and its shadow of disillusionment, palatial homes for those who had struck it rich and acres of more modest housing for the many workers in the film industry... Hollywood had it all.

Of course, films have always been made in other places, but Hollywood has always been more than a place. It's a frame of mind. Everyone understands that it's different from anywhere else.

Naturally, it's been a tourist Mecca. Hollywood posters and postcards capture the essence of Hollywood, the vintage look reflecting the dreams of a bygone era.

Rosana Hart writes about many popular poster categories at her website http://www.infoandhelp.com/posters/ and a selection of Hollywood posters can be seen there.

Black Terror Journal Notes Of Buer The Demon 10 To The Quotcadaverous Planetsquot

2009-01-16T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

[Part two of two parts: From the story, Gusoyn, in the Prison House for Demon]

[Journal Notes of Buer] The lower cells in the Prison House for Demon, some several floors below Gusoyn's cell were that of an awful stench of burning air and demonic fiber. Had anyone told me before a demon smells when they burn, I would have looked the other way, but it is true as the day is long. So Gusoyn explained to me when he was released from prison, just before our assignment to the Galapagos. In consequence, together with the prisons foulness, making its way down the hallways of this underground prison and up on, and through its main upper floors, it seemed to be pasted on the walls like slim: akin to yellow salvia.

After Gusoyn explained this to me, he asked me to take an oath of silence, secrecy not to tell anyone: and of course I did, thendemon to demonit is rather silly of him to ask me that, for we all know demons never keep their word. Rather it is a way to say:

'I'm telling you the truth;' no more, no lessin essence, it was a joke, to me at least.

Anyhow, besides the stench, and now Gusoyn standing by me as I'm finished up with my journal notes, he, not knowing what I'm doing, but he has always known me to be a journaling person: he, like always, is getting a speck restless.

"Buer, my old friend," he just said to me, "you could always smell and see a cloud of unvarnishable, sulfurous fire and vapor throughout the prison." I believe him without question, for what is a prison if not to punish a person; you don't send him to Camelot.

Gusoyn didn't pretend he was innocent of his downright insolent attitude toward the rules and conduct of demon, and that going to prison was unfair, for he knew he surely deserved it, he was just trying to share his ugly experience, and in a way bragging he went through the torments of such: black terror we call it, us demon you know: I say this to whom may read my memories in future time. If I was to analyze this, and I am not a psychologically educated demon by far, but I'd say he felt powerless, matter of fact, I'd even stretch it to say: he hated the powerlessness he felt. I must take a break from my Journaling, be back in a moment, Gusoyn keeps asking me what am I writing.

[Later on] Ok journal notes, I'm back. He was as always hyper and anxious and down right feeling: behooved. But that is Gusoyn for you, can't do a damn thing about it for him. But I will have to report, give these journal notes to Agaliarept, Satan's henchman in hell; I suppose they will be good enough for Agaliarept, he is the henchman for Lucifer, I repeat myself I know: and he is our boss. I do think the Black Terror did wonders for him; it mellowed his impulse to do things his way, or no way. Thus, it is at least fading slowly.

For those who read this entry in my journal: the abbot, the one Gusoyn had his fun with trying to pacify with a whore, and have him commit a sexual sin, has now passed on, or so I've heard he is coming in a boat across the gulf of Hades, to Hell's Gates, so Agaliarept will be amazed to welcome him, I guess Agaliarept had assigned another demonic being, named: The Mantic ore to him, to guide him; a great assignment to this sinful man of robes, he was to my understanding having a sexual relationship with another of the abbotsa homosexual one I think; that is to say, he didn't' want Gusoyn getting in the way; you see, ulterior motives for everything. Yes, Agaliarept is quite the practical genius. That is what I was telling Gusoyn about when I took a few minutes off from these notes a while ago. All in all, it's been a long, long week. When Gusoyn left the prison, he was assigned to me, and if he does not accomplish his future assignment well, he will taste the fury of the Black Terror again. That is all I have Journal, for you today, anyways.

Buer,

Demon-First Class

Dennis Siluk see his site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

Too Young To Survive

2009-01-14T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by LeAnn R. Ralph

Eight o'clock on a beautiful June morning in southern Wisconsin. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. And I was on my way to the stable where I boarded my two horses. Little did I know that in just a few minutes I would become a "momma kitty."

As I slid open the barn door I saw the calico cat. The previous evening she had been plump with kittens, but now she was suspiciously thin, so I knew she had given birth during the night.

"After I feed the horses, you'll have to show me where you hid your babies," I said to her, scooping dry cat food into the dish.

The calico settled down for a snack and I began measuring out grain. There were six horses pastured together with stalls in this barn. I was going to let my horses in, so I figured I might as well feed all of them.

As I walked to the other end of the barn so I could open the door, the calico sat on the floor near one of the stalls to watch the horses come in just like she did most mornings.

One by one, the horses clip-clopped to their stalls. I followed behind, closing their doors. But before I could close one door, the horse inside lunged at another who was just passing by. The mare jumped sideways to avoid being bitten and trampled the calico cat.

Almost before I could draw breath to scream, the calico cat was dead. I knelt beside her, stroking the soft fur. "Your kittens," I whispered. "What am I going to do about your kittens? I don't even know where they are."

I had grown up on a dairy farm in west central Wisconsin with many barn cats. I knew cats liked to keep their kittens hidden until they're old enough to move around. And I knew young kittens depended upon their mothers for survival until they were about eight weeks old.

I also knew the stable cats usually made nests for their kittens in the haymow above me. But because it was summer and new hay was being put in the mow every day, I didn't know where to begin to look for those kittens. The thought of orphaned kittens waiting for a mother who would never return brought tears to my eyes. How could I ever find them? Unless. . .

Every morning for the past week when I let the horses inside, I had seen the calico cat coming out of an unused dog kennel near the end of the barn. Was it possible she'd made a nest in the dog house?

I went out to the kennel, peered into the dog house and sure enough, there were the kittens. A black, a gray and a tabby, curled up together for warmth.

I got hold of the kittens. All three fit in the palm of my hand.

After putting the kittens in a box, I went to the stable office so I could call my veterinarian for advice. The year before I had adopted four two-week old kittens who had been orphaned at this same stable (which leads me to believe stables are exceptionally dangerous places for mother cats). But two-week old kittens were very different from the kittens I had just settled into a box. I wasn't sure the newborns had even had a chance to nurse their mother. And they were so incredibly, impossibly tiny.

Because it was a weekend, my regular vet turned out not to be on call at the clinic. I really wanted to talk to him because he was so knowledgeable and helpful, but this was an emergency and I knew I couldn't wait until Monday morning. The on-call vet I reached, however, was not at all helpful. "Don't even bother," he said. "They'll never make it."

When I hung up the phone, I had a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Don't bother? How could I not bother? I simply couldn't accept just sitting back and doing nothing. If I did everything I could and the kittens died, that would be one thing. But just leaving them to starve to death, their little bodies growing weak and cold especially after I had witnessed their mother's death and felt, somehow, sort of responsible because I hadn't gotten that door shut quickly enough no, I just couldn't do it. I knew if I didn't try, I would have trouble sleeping at night for weeks to come. So, I searched the yellow pages for another vet clinic.

The next veterinarian I called was much more optimistic about the situation. "Bring them into the office," he said. "We'll weigh them and I'll tell you what you need to do."

The kittens only weighed three ounces each and at first, they consumed a half an eyedropper of canned milk replacer three times a day. The vet told me their mother would normally feed them every two hours but that I shouldn't try feeding them that often. "They won't be really hungry, and then you'll get frustrated and they'll get frustrated. Feed them three times a day," he explained.

In a few days the kittens started to put on weight. At ten days old they opened their eyes. At four weeks old they began to use a litter box. Not a regular one, but an aluminum pie plate that was just their size. . .

All these years later (12 to be exact!), I'm happy to say the kittens grew up to be healthy, lively cats. Two of them, a 7-pound black female, Nightshade, and a 13-pound tabby male, Sebastian, became as much a part of the family as my other four cats. The gray kitten was adopted by a woman who desperately wanted another cat. Her faithful companion of many years had died recently and when she heard about the orphaned kittens I was raising, well she just knew she had to adopt one of them. As far as I can tell, Nightshade and Sebastian are not suffering any problems from being orphaned as newborns. Except, perhaps, for the fact that Sebastian becomes uneasy when the kitty food dishes are empty. He'll come to find me, "talking," chirping and purring non-stop while running a few feet ahead to lead me to the dishes. All I have to do is put out a handful of dry food and he's satisfied. Most of the time he's not even hungry just worried, I think, because the dishes are empty.

As for Nightshade, she has turned my six-foot-two-inch tall husband from a man who swore he didn't like cats into a person who holds her, cuddles her and tells her she has "itty-bitty kitty fitties (feet)" which he will deny vehemently if anyone mentions it to him. "I do NOT," he says, drawing himself up to his full height, "talk to my cat that way."

Although I now live 250 miles from the veterinarian who told me "not to bother" I have been tempted to send him pictures of Nightshade and Sebastian. They are living proof of what can happen when you ignore the advice of experts and follow your heart, adding just a little bit of "bother" and a whole lot of love.

*****************

About The Author

LeAnn R. Ralph is the author of the books: *Christmas in Dairyland (True Stories from a Wisconsin Farm)* (trade paperback) and *Preserve Your Family History (A Step-by-Step Guide for Writing Oral Histories)* (e-book; 66 pages). To read sample chapters and to sign up for the FREE! monthly newsletter, Rural Route 2 News & Updates, visit http://ruralroute2.com

bigpines@ruralroute2.com

Writing From The Country

2009-01-13T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Linda A. Rentschler

It was either spend my anniversary without my husband, or accompany him to Port Allegheny for one of his weekend farming trips. This year, to commemorate our seventeenth year of married life, we left the kids at home with my mother in-law and planned to stay in the small house on the property which had been vacant since the fall. My husband had already taken up a mattress and box-spring on his last trip to make it seem more inviting. He explained I could take my laptop along and write, and he could finish plowing. Farming the following weekend would be out of the question because of Mother's Day, and his leaving would break our tradition of meeting his mom and sister's family for a lunch midway between our state and theirs. Three upset mothers would be inevitably worse than dealing with one upset wife, and it wasn't like this was one of those big, round-numbered anniversaries that came with grand expectations.

I didn't have to go. He didn't have to stay. That much we made clear to each other from the get go. But the more I thought about how many times he'd sat through my plays, or proofed one of my four hundred page manuscripts in a twenty-four hour period, I thought I should at least be as good a sport. After all, he worked all week in New York City and generally took this six hour drive solo on Friday nights after work, occasionally even after my son's baseball games, arriving at the farm sometime between one and two a.m. I always knew he was a saint, which made me feel even worse doing my rain-dance once I had agreed to go. Often I agreed to challenges feeling certain God would surely get me out of them.

To my inexplicable shock, the weather forecast was good. I consoled myself knowing my husband didn't want to drive out on Friday night. Instead, we were leaving Friday morning so we could (thank you again, God) have an extra full day.

By six a.m. we each had a coffee and muffin. Cows came into view around seven-thirty. By nine a.m., we had a second coffee, and a Schmuffin Sandwich from Sheets, getting two more muffins to go. I had already eaten more than I usually eat before 3 p.m, more carbs than I eat in an entire week. This was roughing it for sure.

The ride was remarkably pleasant. It was amazing how relaxing driving seemed once we were out of our major metropolitan area and away from our teenage kids. We had the longest uninterrupted conversation since our honeymoon, discussing each of our three kids in no particular order, spouting philosophies that didn't work, comparing their upbringing to our own, and deciding we would do well to provide for ourselves until death, just to be safe.

I packed well, light on the clothes, heavy on the other supplies. I had my work covered with a laptop, printer, my manuscript, folding table, chairs, a notebook, pens, pencils, a coffee pot, and coffee. I had essentials like sheets, towels, a hand towel, shower curtain and hooks, paper towels, toilet cleaner, all purpose cleaner, trash bags, phone charger, and a novel, in case I hit a dry spot.

Finally, as the two lane highway merged into one, and the gravel gave way to dirt roads, the farm appeared. I was excited to see the red barn again, the trees, the house, horses, and pole barn, and some neighboring houses. I was undoubtedly out of my element here, and the more humans I was aware of, the more secure I felt.

The house hadn't been lived in for a while, so I expected a little bit of a musty odor. The dead bugs were another story. My husband noted the expression on my face, and quickly ran off to get a stick vacuum out of a shed. I was busily running the kitchen sink water when I realized I wasn't alone. A large wasp was crawling slowly up the door to the basement. I admit my first thought was to run, but I reminded myself I was after all in the wild, and the insect wasn't really flying. I cursed myself for not packing hair spray. I was honestly trying to get into the spirit of "roughing it" and couldn't imagine why I would need to keep my hair in one position. I forgot that hair spray was more important to me than a first aid kit, because one shot would render a bug's wings too stiff to fly, and I could then place an upside-down glass upon it, until my husband came in from the field and removed the stiffened body. Guess what, no glasses eitheronly a paper cup which would amplify the wicked buzz, and drive me out of my skin.

I watched from the kitchen focused only on that one spot, watching the bug walk up and down the trim as if patrolling. I was never a jumper and screamer. I preferred to feign paralysis, play dead if necessary, and tip toe very slowly toward the nearest exit. I tried to talk myself through my panic. The predator was walking slowly. Probably, it was wounded. Possibly, it came in the front door. My husband always said they followed you insidenot that I ever believed him. One sighting in my home and I phoned the Chem-tech guy, regardless of how random the event seemed, or how asphyxiating the solution.

I looked at my car thinking I could clearly make a run for it if I needed to, except, there was a cat sitting in front of my door. A big, dark, brown, hairy, fat, biker of a cat, and if there was one thing I felt less comfortable with than bees, it was cats, which in my nightmares become vampires and sucked my blood, not my breath. So I wondered if my husband was making the vacuum from scratch, because it seemed like forever since I'd last seen him, and just then I noticed the congregation of bees in the sink, which only made me look at the cellar doorway again, where I could confirm, yes, they were in addition to the original one that so obviously did not follow us in the door. Now I was thinking, cat versus bees, and there was no contest, because it was a numbers' game and thus far, I didn't possess the ability to out-fly them.

Outside, I dashed past the cat, not making eye contact. I treated it like the threats I'd encountered in the Port Authority. I waited politely while my husband finished his conversation with a neighbor, trying very hard not to let the word hotel spring forth from my lips. He caught my look of distress and excused himself, apologizing for his delay. We walked close together to the shed, and on the way I casually asked for bug spray, explaining that we had an infestation. I knew he wanted to roll his eyes about as much as I wanted to say hotel, so we were even. Then I told him about the cat, and he told me to just to walk past it. I agreed, but when I looked for it using my peripheral vision, I couldn't find it. It was now inside our car, walking on our yet unpacked belongings, probably looking to pick off a twenty out of my husband's wallet. So this next grand announcement from me did produce the eye roll and the word hotel nearly simultaneously. We'd always had good rhythm.

My husband chased the cat out of the car. I stood still, confused and wondering whether I should go into the house knowing he's going to war with the bees, or stay outside with the cat who was ticked because I ratted him out. This time I chose to go inside, because I had a competent defender holding two cans of poison. Plus, I needed to point out the bee that was still undoubtedly crawling up and down the doorway. He sprayed the sink easily enough, sprayed around the doorway, and then he asked if I noticed where they might be coming from. By now, I was talking non-stop in one of those Houston-we-have-a-problem tones, yes, there were a number on the window, some on the floor, hotel, hotel, hotel, kitchen counterbut God bless America, none in the bathroom where I was sure I would hide at the first sign of retaliation. As he sprayed and vacuumed the dead bodies, I pointed to the nest outside the right hand corner of the window, close to where I'd coincidentally placed my folding table and computer. He nodded, picked up the twenty-foot spray, and headed for the door, while I reminded him in my loudest Minnie Mouse voice of the can's advisory never to spray during the day! But of course, he was going to do exactly that--what country man wouldn't?

I couldn't watch. I was a mixture of panic, horror, and adrenaline. If they attacked him, where was the nearest hospital? Did 911 work everywhere? Did my cell have a signal? If he was attacked, do I spray him with the other can which at least was approved for indoor use with the doors and windows wide open? Where was the neighbor now? Oh my God, where was the cat? I had been in the country less than twenty minutes, and I was already having chest pains.

My husband returned looking victorious. When I realized he wasn't being tracked by an air brigade, I was ecstatic. I could hear my pinched voice telling him the infestation of Ladybugs I just found certainly meant good luck. I was actually flicking them off my workspace, making wishes. Before leaving me to begin his field work, he plugged in an XM portable satellite radio, so could I listen to the soothing voice of Jonathan Schwartz who I recalled from WNEW back when I was young and safe in New Jersey. It immediately calmed me down. I popped the top on my computer, and barely flinched as the ladybugs smashed themselves against the toxic window. Hours passed as I busily edited. I rose to make a pot of coffee, and as I looked at the cat rolling on his back at my doorstep, I comforted myself knowing at least my chances of encountering field mice indoors today were pretty slim.

L. A. Rentschler, author of the newly released novel Mother (amazon.com). Author of Jitters which was produced as a Lifetime Original Movie. Playwright, best known for Deathbed. IWWG. Dramatist Guild of America. http://www.larentschler.com Write to her: linda@larentschler.com

Dixie Chicks Fear No Critic

2009-01-12T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Christine Paluf

Though many may barely remember The Dixie Chicks comments about President Bush during a 2003 London concert, this year's "Accidents and Accusations" tour is still feeling the effects. Fourteen cancelled US dates, and push-backs of other shows have prompted some to believe the blame lies with the perceived lack of support in the southern states.

The choice to cancel a Houston, TX show but to continue plans for Austin and Dallas is confusing for some, but according to the show's promoter, AEG's Loius Messina, radio stations may have influenced public perception to a point of no return.

In an interview with the Houston Chronicle, Messina said that Houston-area stations refused advertising dollars, and still continue not to play the Chicks' songs.

Whether the radio station is creating public perception or reflecting it, the Chicks chose to cancel the concert before tickets ever went on sale.

"We had 40 dates to promote, and ultimately we had to pick the 40 best markets," Messina told the Chronicle.

Apparently, the better markets lie outside US borders, as 16 of the 43 tour dates are scheduled for Canadian cities.

Nielsen SoundScan reports that 22,000 copies of "Taking the Long Way" sold in Houston, better than the 19,000 that sold in Austin, but less than 36,000 copies that sold in Dallas. Yet Dallas and Austin still remain on the tour list.

So it's not a lack of area fans, it just may be an issue of the difference between what people will listen to in private, and what they will support and admit to in public. When the political climate is less-than positive for the Dixie Chicks, keeping up appearances may take utmost importance.

Or, ticket prices may be to blame. Poor ticket sales were initially blamed for the 14 US cancellations, which is in stark contrast to how the album is doing nationally. Tickets are priced upwards of $50 a piece.

The Dixie Chicks newest album debuted in the number one spot on the Billboard 200 and the Billboard Country Albums charts. It secured the highest first week's sales, in the SoundScan era, of any album in Columbia Records history.

"This is a year where we weren't sure what to expect. We were prepared for a lot of things as we figure out this new phase of our career. What we weren't prepared for, however, was the overly passionate audience response at all of the stops on the tour so far," the band said on their Website.

"We are truly at a loss for words to explain what that has meant to us. We hope that our fans who were looking forward to a stop that is no longer on the tour will be able to join us at a nearby arena this fall, and we are sorry for any confusion or inconvenience these changes have caused."

Singer Natalie Maines said she was "ashamed" to share their home state of Texas with President Bush. She later apologized for "disrespecting the office of the President," but said in a recent Time Magazine interview that she no longer feels that way. "I don't feel he is owed any respect at all."

The band has publicly announced their intentions to move away from the country music charts, and their newest release reflects that goal. With more of a rock influence, the band may be making an effort to appeal to a more accepting and less conservative audience.

"I'd rather have a smaller following of really cool people who get it, than people who have us in their 5-disc changer with Reba McEntire and Toby Keith," said Martie Maguire, fiddler for the group. "We don't want those kinds of fans. They limit what you can do."

And apparently, what you can say.

Christine Paluf is the Editor of TicketNews.com, a secondary ticket industry news and information site.

Learning To Appreciate Art Quilts

2009-01-11T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Katrina Sjoberg

Good Morning,

I have been mulling over the question of how one learns to appreciate art, fabric art in particular, and how to educate the public about art quilts.

First of all, art quilts as an art form is a relatively new concept in the art world. Textile art has existed a long time in the form of woven tapestries or sewn garments. Quilts have also existed a long time and have even been decorated with embroidery even as they were used as bedspreads on beds for warmth. Some garments were quilted and used under armor and other outerwear to keep people warm.

Traditional American quilts flourished in the 1800s and were mostly used for practical purposes although they were very artfully hand sewn and embroidered. A lot of women made quilts for their trousseaus and also telling family histories such as births, marriages and deaths. Still, they were mostly treasured as family heirlooms handed down for several generations. Today, museums and private collectors pay huge sums for antique bed quilts so in that sense, they are now art.

The modern art quilts (to be hung on the wall) evolved in the early 70s, through the 80s and the 90s. Many women were interested in their grandmother's quilts or quilts their mothers made for them and had learned sewing and hand embroidery since they were young, but wanted to find new ways of expressing their creativity using fabrics of all kinds. The notion came that maybe we could make quilts that would strictly be for decorative purposes to be displayed on the walls in homes, hotel lobbies, offices, restaurants and other public spaces.

There was a lot of experimentation taking place at this time using traditional cutting or sewing techniques and designs in new expanded ways where blocks were not all the same but different. Some artists even used blocks of different sizes to be sewn together in creative ways. Many started coloring, dyeing and printing their own fabrics which then were cut up in various ways and reassembled to form a new graphic image. Some used one piece of fabric and embellished it with more fabric sewn directly onto the top, either appliqued by hand or machine. Some added colorful hand stitching as part of the design.

Sewing techniques became innovative also because of new sewing machine technology where lots of machine stitching and embroidery became part of the overall design, not just used to quilt two layers of fabric and the batting together. This trend continues today with many fabric artists using free motion (random stitching) to highlight areas of design or even be an intricate part of the graphics.

Also as the interest grew in sewing and new fabrics came on the market, new kinds of threads emerged on the scene. Metallic threads in all colors meant that some very interesting effects could be achieved by machine quilting in specific areas. All kinds of threads came along with different kinds of qualities that could be used in creative ways.

The latest trend is the renewed interest in yarns of all kinds which many fabric artists like to incorporate onto the surface of their art quilts. Specialty yarns of all kinds and colors can add exciting textures to the designs. Additional embellishments used nowadays are beads, ribbons, trinkets and even new kinds of fibers. Some artists are even incorporating materials and techniques from other artforms.

So how are these wall quilts art? They are art because they're original visions manifested in various ways using fabrics much in the same way as an artist would use brushes. They are art because they express high levels of creativity of images never before seen. They are art because of the innovations in techniques they represent. And they bring tremendous amounts of beauty to our often denatured, sterile and concrete-filled asphalt jungle environment.

I remember a few years ago when I saw my first real art quilts displayed at a local center where I frequently went for meetings. It was a private display of three very large art quilts depicting various scenes inspired by the Holy Writings of the Baha'i Faith. I literally stopped in my tracks when I entered the room! The atmosphere and energy were totally changed just because of those beautiful works of art. I will never forget that moment and I am sure that is one of the reasons I decided that I wanted to create something similar.

So, how do you learn to appreciate this new art form? Go to quilt exhibits, local and national, as often as you can. Almost all traditional quilt exhibits now include some form of art quilts as a special category. Prizes are given and artists are given recognition. Many have written books about the techniques they've invented or perhaps they've come up with a variation of a cutting technique. Find quilting programs on your local TV network or cable, many now devote one or two programs per week to fabric art.

In general, read art books that you find in the local library. Go to museums and regular art exhibits. Take art classes and art appreciation classes to get a good basic background about art in general. Then you will begin to appreciate the work involved and the time it takes to create an art quilt.

Special Event Flowers

2009-01-10T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Tenley McDonald

When you are in charge of organizing a "Special Event", you want to make a good impression. Don't forget the flowers to make your event memorable. Your local florist offers a wide variety of floral décor for any event!

Flowers can add a special touch to many events including;

Conventions & Trade Shows

Corporate & Private Celebrations

Fundraisers

Graduations

Reunions

School Functions (including dances)

Open House (Corporate & Residential)

Banquets

Mitzvahs

Seasonal Home & Office

Anniversary Parties

Weddings & Receptions

Baby Showers

Bridal Showers

Birthday Parties

Church Functions

Some of the many floral designs used for special events include;

Centerpieces-

Your local florist can assist you with centerpieces with or without candles. Be sure to have an accurate table count. It will also help your florist customize your floral centerpieces if you know the size and shape of the table. Centerpieces can add beautiful color to your special event. At the end of your event you can even hold a drawing for the centerpieces or give them away as a memorable keepsake.

Structure Floral Design-(Swags, Garlands, Custom Designs)

~for banister railings, doorways, stages, fireplace, etc.~ Flowers can be designed to compliment any structure for your special event. If possible, your florist may like to visit your event venue to take measurements and make the appropriate recommendations for floral designs customized for structures.

High Style Floral Design-

These unique designs can be in vases, urns or other special containers. They are commonly used on Foyer Tables, Pedestals, Stages and Head Tables for dramatic effect. A high style floral arrangement is blooming modern art, impressive for any special event.

Another Creative idea is to have corsages and/or boutonnières made for your guests of honor, hosts and speakers. They will compliment the other flowers at your event, and double as a token of appreciation for your distinguished guests. Call your local florist today for details. The possibilities are endless!

Tenley McDonald- Former Florist- Now Co-Owner of http://www.flowerpowernetwork.com (Online Directory of Real Local Florists) Ms. McDonald has over 14 years experience in ~Consumer Relations/Marketing ~Customer Service Management ~Floral Design. Please email the Author directly for reprint permission of this article.

The Fruitcake Act Iv The Apartment Part One Of Two Parts

2009-01-09T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Act IV

The Apartment

Rosario and Lee got married, they are now in their own small apartment, it is mid-afternoon [and by implication], the apartment is more similar to a studio-apartment, having one large room with a roll-a-way bed [otherwise known as a Murphy Bed], and an archway to the kitchen that is a little pronounced because of its huge ceilings; -- the bathroom is beyond the kitchen, that one can only see a door to.

This is a good time to let you in on the news, Oliver, our faithful, man of dry-wit, was the best man at the wedding, which took place six-months ago. I can assure you, he was a blast, but on the other hand, I can't really say much about the furniture in their new apartment, it is not a blast, at least to look at, it is rather simple at its finest, ordinary; I think Rosario is satisfied with this although, but Lee is a bit embarrassed. There is a radio and sofa chair by Lee, and a stand next to his right elbow; about several feet from his chair is a rocker for [you got it] Rosario, with a tall floor lamp by her chair, woops, both Rosario and Lee have a floor lamp by their chairs. Lee is a firm believer in the old ways of life, man should have his own big chair, and lamp; --Lee is now looking at his first disability check he got from the Government, for he can no longer work because of his heart and possible future stroke along with something unknown that makes him weaker than one would expect; as time passes on, the doctors are checking him out, possible a neurological issue of sorts they say.

On the other hand, Rosario continues to work at the hospital and Oliver now their new best friend has retired, he worked in the fur trade, and then after that become obscure, and he worked at the Post Office. Rosario has walked over to Lee and he shows her the government check. As I am explaining this to you, she [Rosario] knows he cannot work anymore, and so she is thinking about going over to encourage him in his life long dream, which is to write music, and combine that with his poetry.

Rosario. Lee!

Lee. Yaw [Rosario putting the check back into Lee's hands] what's up!

Rosario. Why don't you write some music, like you've always wanted to, you got the time, I support it, and who knows, it could be quite enlightening? [She walks into the kitchen; she has planted the seed, now it's 'food for thought,' time.]

There is no reply.

Lee! [Says Rosario.]

--Still no reply

Lee! Are you out there?

Lee [with uncertainty]. Are you, you really serious?

Rosario [enthusiastically]. As serious as a heart attack oops, I didn't mean that, the wrong word. It will keep you busy, and you're fond of music, and I adore your poetry.

Lee. Don't scream it out, it bothers me.

Rosario. Sorry

Lee [walking into the kitchen]. I hear you baby, I like the ideaI'd be fond of it, I mean a whole, whole lotdo you think I'm good enough, I mean really, really, really good enough? I mean would you care to listen to my music if you were not married to me [pause]. Well, would you?

Rosario [absentmindedly]. Good enough for what?

Lee [increasingly annoyed]. Yaw, I'll turn down the radiod o w nnn

[A pause]

Lee. I can do it, I can do it [a knock at the door]

Rosario. Well, I know that, who's at the door? [She swiftly moves out of the kitchen to the door before Lee gets out of his sofa chair.]

She opens the door, it's Oliver

He is standing in the doorway [he is a colorful dresser to say the least] with yellow stocking on up to the knees. He towers over Rosario at 6-foot three inches. He has a blue satin vest on, a little wild looking; thin in the face, and long hair. His coat I'd say he looks like it is in need of a good press job, an old relic from the last war, hidden in some attic, Rosario conjures in her mind; --reminiscent of the Civil war, at least. He has a white shirt on, with a red tie, maybe not coordinating colors, but bright; --a wide belt stretching across his over lapping stomach [Rosario is thinking, think she is thinking, 'could that belt stretch his belly button out of shape?]. He has that Oliver grin on his face, that says sarcasm may came at any moment, anytime, anywhere, anyplace, possible here, right now, the one that says here I am, for better or worse [he has a heartily kind of composure to himself].

Oliver [a big hearty smile on his face, a twinkle in his eye]. Just passing by thought I'd stop and see the two love birds [he hands her a big sack of potatoes, twenty-pounds]; my mother always said to bring a gift when you go visiting, and my dad always said, 'make it a surprise.' [He starts laughing.] Got to please you both,you know.

Rosario [bright eyed]. You haven't been around for a month; Lee and I were wondering if you were ill. You were coming around once a week before. [not sure if this is a question or a statement, everyone is silent for a moment]

Oliver [answering Rosario, as Lee remained silent for a moment longer]. Don't want to ware out my welcome, sweetie!

Lee. Haw, that's my territory old man, only I say sweetie. [There was something in the tone of his voice for a moment, as he put his cigarette out in the ashtray next to him.]

Oliver. Well who told you to marry her, hawhaw?

Rosario. Oh-ooooooo Oliver, Lee didn't tell me about that, so he needed some coaching, did he [Rosario looking at Lee and Oliver both humorously]

Lee [serious as usually, he is trying to change the subject]. Whywhy the potatoes, I've never seen anyone bring potatoes over before; unbelievable.

Rosario turns around to shut the door, Lee is looking at Oliver, takes his hands and waves themas if to say, 'hush up' about his coaching, and reminiscent of a zipper, he pretends to zip his lips shut. Oliver says in a whisper, "You asked for it."

Oliver [he exclaimed laughing]. What was that? [He heard hima pause.] Why not?

♪ The Music ♫

Lee [suspiciously, with a funny grin on his face]. I guess she's right [a mutual glare from both of them appear].

Oliver [with quiet laughter]. Glad you didn't end up with that humming bird, or maybe I should call her a chatter-box. Oh she was nice looking, healthy with the body parts, but talk, talk, talk, and never stop. Oh, yes, she was a talker; surely from a genetic trait way back yonder some place. Just think Lee, had you married her, you would never be able to talk; she'd be doing all the talking. What would you be doing? I'll tell you right now what you'd be doing, standing at the courthouse getting a divorce. She would have driven you to a hotel, just to get away from her, probably divorce you quicker than making a pan-cake, and drive you to drink. Fickle, that's what most of the women are today, unpredictable, fickle-d, and pickled; don't know what they want these new modern women, and when they got it, are happy for a season, and thenfind out it was just a joy ride they were after

Well, you know.

Lee [scornfully]. I wish you wouldn't bring her up, you always seem to, and it's just not nice. She had her issues, and I married Rosario, thank God. And that is that.

Oliver. You can say that again!

Lee. What did I say?

Oliver [with a hiss]. Issues! Yaw, that'sssssss what they all say; issues my as...S-sssssss. [Pause.] She had an encyclopedia of issues then. Everything was an issue. I don't know what she had, but I know what she needed, and that was a kick in the ass-sssssssss. Yes, brother, a good old kick in the ass. And that should have been done 50-years ago. Nowadays, the kids run the show, the social workers, and the parent is are on trial, and then the government says, 'You got to watch those kids, listen to them, hug them, give them love.' Horse shit, a good kick in the ass is love enough, and then get on with business, that's what I say, that's what they need. We pay these social workers to be social, and that's far from their mentality. A parent that is too lazy to kick his kid in the ass is too lazy to raise them.

Lee. Oliver, calm down.

Oliver. I do get carried away, don't I? I'm glad you got Rosario, at any rate; if I don't calm down I'll end up back in that damn hospital, listening to everyone bellyache, and those damn kids screaming and yelling, a bunch of rug-rats; I raised mine, and they are as thankless, and useless except for one, as the day is long.

Lee. Yaw, I know you do, --get carried way that is [Both smiling at one another, Oliver's head is down a little, akin to a boy who has been scolded, yet knows he does what he does because he loves you, not to hurt you.]

Oliver [staring at papers on the side of Lee's chair]. What's all that stuff, looks like music?

Rosario [proudly]. My husband is a composer of music, he writes poetry also.

Oliver [looking a bit impressed]. Say Rosario, can this guy really write that kind of stuff-♪♫ or is this 'bull- sht'?

Rosario. Yes, yes, he can. His poems are his music; his lyric's that ismusic added to poems.

Oliver. People don't talk like that, poems-music,--music-poems. Talk English to me.

Lee [critically]. Oliver, let me explain, if I can. Poetry, barring the Yale type taught crowd, who would present criticism at any turn at the good ripe age of two-days old [sarcasms, reeking from his face], music is poetry in motion. In contrast, it is a story Oliver, yup, that is what it is, and if one was to go beyond that, a novel if you will. After I'm dead and buried, listen to it a few times for about six months and then do a comparison, or analyze it [he hands Oliver a copy of his music with the lyrics] I have a few copies, as I was trying to say, don't judge it as the Yale critic would, in one day, it has to ferment similar to wine

Oliver [quite impressed]. Wine haw, you are definitely right there, Lee, I mean you got what it takes. You should have been doing this years ago [Rosario looks at Lee and Oliver, and nodes her head, pointing her finger at her forehead as if to say Lee has some unused smarts].

Oliver rocking in the chair, Rosario standing by the archway into the kitchen in the main room of the Studio Apartment; the sun is shining through the windows, as the shades on the windows are half up, and the curtains drawn back and wrapped with ropes. The floor is made of shinning polished and waxed wood, as are the doors, and the cabinet work in the main room as well as the kitchen.

Oliver [critical]. If you write about me in those lyric's I hope you do me justice. I am not [He starts to read one of the music sheets, the lyrics] I was saying, I am not, or do not, I should say, reveal me as one of those ordinary people, you know as so many authors do. You read one novel, and then another and the characters are all the same, nothing new. No different shapes to them. If you didn't know their names, you'd never know who they were. Our character tells a person who we are, not our names, not after the day you are born anyways.

Lee. I didn't know you were a philosopher of sorts; yes, a profound thinker I'd say. You are well read my friend. Most people would say my mother was ordinary, as ordinary goes; but what is ordinary, maybe to some people like me it is a blessing to be ordinary, and to other people it is common to be ordinary, and still for others they hate being ordinary. What ever it is my mother's ordinary character taught me to stand tall, be honest, work hard, and don't let everything bother you: she believed in me. There was what I call an ordinary priority in her life: god, me and my brother and her, and beyond that, we go into second gear. Maybe she really wasn't ordinary, maybe it is simple me that is, or wanted to be.

Oliver [with a smirk]. No, I'm not a philosopher; not really, I just know garbage from true fiction; or maybe better put garbage from historical fiction. God made everyone different, yet we put names on everyone, and that is how we are known. How about using a few good impressions to describe us with, me, in particular if you ever use me? Or let's say, just as you described your mother being ordinary. It really wasn't a description of an ordinary person, but rather the impression I get is, she got around, new what she wanted, had direction, took from life, life and lived it. What more can we do. Possibly she was a realist, and partly dreamer, like you.

Lee. How should I shape you, should I try?

Oliver. Hmmm! You trying to [pause] I want to read this stuff, but back to your question. I should be characterized different, that is from a different angle, like your mother, 'simple, but multifaceted.' Similar to your songs also; are they not all different, but complex in their own wayhave their own personality [?] One is on "Death," another on "Love," something we all thing about; another on finding and searching for some one, something we all have experienced, all these things mold us, make and adjust our priorities, as it did for your mother and you, as it does for you and your wife, as it is doing with you and asas I look at these music sheets, the words, notes and all, I can't quite anticipate them, as you can not anticipate me, and whoever reads about me, that is somewhat how it should start. When I read a book, I first try to read half of the book and if I can it tell me it might be a good book; if I can't, it is just old music being played over, I just stop playing it, or in my case reading it, if I already know the ending, why read it: a good book should not be able to let you know what the ending is going to be before you get there. The only difference being, it's a new day. Some of these writers in Paris, Hollywood, New York, think they are writing something new. I call it 'The Original Old Foolish Stuff' if I could think of a longer name for it I would. I want to be something new in your book, on each sentence, or stanza in your song, or poem, a spark that never wasthat's me. Does that make sense? Like your mother, she is someone to you that will never be again. No body will take her imprint off you. God gave you her as a gift, it was his giftnot a perfect gift, just like you, not perfect, but a gift that will open your whole being up every time you think of her.

Lee. You want me to make you into a 'Best Seller,' well Oliver, you are to me or us, my wife and I that is: you already are a Best Seller. I'm not any big music writer or anything like that, but if I do write about you I will give it a good try and make you unique; you will be a hero, like my mother. I do not have many heroes, but she is one. I'm not sure what makes a hero, but I know what doesn't make one, and that is all these foolish actors on TV that play parts and live contrary to what they'd have you believe. They no more believe in the parts they play than in the people they meet, it is all money, power and glory, they think they are something more special than other people, simply because they get an applause, how foolish can a brain be. Some play parts in wars and never were even a soldier, or for that matter Boy Scout, like a writer to be a real writer, you got to live it; like a bullfighter, or a bull watcher, you are one or the other, and of course the bullfighter can tell you the truth, and the watcher tells what he only sees, which is a half truth, but for the 'buck,' they'll pretend anything, and get drunk later--and then expect the public to think of them as heroes, how about over paid whoresor puppies. When you perform in doing something you do not believe in, it is what you are, you sell yourself cheap. My wife is a hero of sorts, and so are you, a little hero to me.

Oliver [now puts a little more thought into his writing as he looks onto the music sheets]. Strange to say but I must, you're a little inefficient, are you not old chap or should I say young man. I only see one fly in the soup

Lee. And what is that?

Oliver [hesitantly]. You and your wife are settled, content, almost placid at times, and still quite attracted to one another, writing all this music takes time, effort, and stresslots of stress for such a short time in writing them. You got to take it easy my friend. [Lee smiled at Oliver, his wife watching him]. Your writing is fine, it is the process

Oliver. Now let me read out loud these lyrics:

As Love goes by

C  ♫ It was-n't in Pa- ris, ♪ it was- n't in Rome. ♫ It wasn't at the tash- ma-----hal ♪♫ I met her in Bei- jing, standing by the Em-pe-ror's wall♫ Her eyes were full of sky here voice full of soul. Her shape was like a god-dess, of mar-ble and of. Gold. Her in- sides like a blos-somed rose. A blos- somed rose. We shared our glor-ry, we shared our hearts. ♫♪ AS LOVE GOES.. ♫ BY.. ♪  [long pause, musical] We shared our glo- ry, we shared our hearts ♪ We nev-er missed a cue. ♫♪ Our love was touched by Beijingmist . Our faith was crys-tal new.   Fare- well, fare- well!! We sang our song, as lovers of-ten do. Then with a kiss a touch and a sigh, We left the world. We knew. We left the world, we left the world. Re-newed. Then with a touch and a sigh, we left the world we knew.♫.. As love Goes by As Love goes by, Love goes by G E7 G F D7 G G7 Ami G  

♫

See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

The Life And Art Of Paul Gauguin

2009-01-08T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Michael Russell

French painter Eugène Henri Paul Gauguin was born in Paris in 1848 and then moved to Peru with his family when he was only three years old. Growing up in Peru provided much excitement and had a great impact on him as little boy. When he turned 17, he joined the Navy and went to sea for about six years. He returned to France after his voyages, more mature and filled with impressions of strange and beautiful lands.

He did not immediately become an artist. He chose to settle in Paris and learn to become a stockbroker. At 35, much to his family surprise, Paul gave up his career to devote his life to painting in order to show the simple beauty he saw in the lives of primitive peoples. He was quite accustomed to success and believed that he would succeed in painting. Unfortunately, his wife saw it as an unnecessary indulgence and never forgave him for a "selfish" decision. Years later, the couple separated.

Paul had always enjoyed the art of the French artists known as the impressionists. He took up painting right away and in 1818 he exhibited his works with other impressionists. However, the reality of living an artist's life shocked Gauguin. He enjoyed his former comforts so much that he had difficulty adjusting to his new life in poverty. By 1886, the expense and pressure of city life had become so demanding that Gauguin decided to leave Paris and live in an artist's colony in Brittany. After a year, he decided to travel to Panama where he worked as a laborer. Then he went to the tropics, to Martinique, where he lived and painted in freedom. However, after a year of living in Martinique, Gauguin was forced to return to Brittany, penniless and quite ill.

In October, 1888 he visited another famous artist, Vincent van Gogh, in the latter's home in Arles, France. Gauguin's stay with Van Gogh proved to be a powerful collaboration of sorts; it was said that they frequently disagreed and were distressing to live with. On good days, however, they managed to learn from each other and produced some of their best work during these times. It is said that Gauguin returned to Paris after Van Gogh's "incident". Gauguin slowly broke away form the impressionist movement and painted "Vision after the Sermon", where he attempted to externalize the feelings of his subjects. This painting is important in his career because it ushered in a new style that is now called "Symbolism".

However, it was a combination of the beautiful surroundings of Brittany and his exotic voyages that led them to develop his own unique style. Gauguin devoted his time painting portraits, landscapes and still lifes as simple forms in pure and intense colors surrounded by black outlines. Many critics remark that the graceful mess and simplicity of the painting is communicating the artist's strongest feelings towards the exotic and the natural.

In 1891, Gauguin saved enough money to go to the primitive South Sea island of Tahiti. At first, the artist was extremely happy in the midst of the forests, the strange flora and fauna and the island's beautiful people. He decided to stay and share the simple life of the natives from there on. However, throughout his stay, Gauguin was tormented by severe depression and tried to battle drug addiction.

Most of Gauguin's paintings capture the beauty of Tahitian culture and its women, but seemed to show that the artist was really not completely happy nor understood in this primitive society. After many years of poverty and sickness, Gauguin died from heart failure, alone and unaware of the mark his art would later make on the 20th century.

Michael Russell Your Independent guide to Arts

How To Start A Retail Clothing Store

2009-01-07T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Bradley Johnson

Ever dreamed of opening your own retail clothing store? Well, I just opened one in Southern California not too long ago. It is actually a LOT harder than you might think to get your doors open and a few sales under your belt. To get started you'll need vision, a reseller's permit and a business license. While the unique vision might take months or years, the latter two requirements will only entail filling out a couple basic forms and waiting a couple of weeks for the paperwork to show up in the mail. That doesn't sound too difficult you say. Well, wait a second as the following to do items take just a bit more effort.

You will be:

1. Setting up a sole proprietorship, LLC, S or C Corp in order to protect your and your partner(s) personal assets should your retail store get sued.

2. Finding the right space that is an area with a fair amount of foot traffic and ample parking.

3. Negotiating your commercial lease so that you're not stuck into a 5 year commitment. (Make sure to try and negotiate the ability to sub-lease your space. It's a long shot, but it doesn't hurt to ask.)

4. Raising at least $50,000 in capital so you can remodel and stock your store.

5. Getting the proper building and electrical permits signed off so you can actually have the power turned on. That's right you can't have power until everything is signed off by the city. By the way, make sure at least one of your dressing rooms and one of your registers is handicap friendly. Otherwise you will not be able to open your doors until one is. I learned this lesson the hard way.

6. Finding the right employees to help you fill in the hours you can't be there. No matter how dedicated you are, you will need to get away from your store at least two days a week.

7. Making sure you have the blessing of your suppliers before embarking on this retail journey. I had no idea that the most popular jean companies will not sell wholesale to your store unless you already have some brand name jeans suppliers on board. This catch 22 absolutely baffles me, but I digress.

8. Budgeting is very difficulty. You will not believe the cost of your electricity (especially if you're running the AC all day) or how quickly your payroll adds up.

9. Developing and implementing an effective; on going marketing campaign. "Build it and they will come" does not apply to no-name clothing stores. You are going to have to slowly build a brand in your community. Taking out a one page ad in the local newspaper will be a huge waste of money unless you advertise giving away your product. You need to be VERY creative (think event marketing) and extremely patient. Unless you're opening your store in a mall, foot traffic will be limited and you'll have to rely on word of mouth.

10. Lastly, you'll be treating every customer like they were your one and only. You are going to have to differentiate yourself through outstanding service and by providing a unique shopping experience, Otherwise you will never survive.

All that being said, do not be discourage. I must say that it is tremendously rewarding and rather cool to own your own clothing store. If you are fashionable, passionate, sharp and excel at networking, then I have no doubt that you will succeed. Good Luck !

Bradley is a fashion industry pro. He owns a retail store in Costa Mesa, CA and is also the owner of Fashionable Clothing Wholesaler Blankstyle.com . His website and store carries vintage soft, fitted and stylish blanks from companies such as American Apparel.

The Most Common South African Folk Law Stories

2009-01-05T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Gerald Crawford

The Shipwreck That Began The Tradition Of "Women And Children First"

The Captain of the sinking ship, HMS Birkenhead, shouted "every man for himself", but the troops stood on the doomed ship and calmly waited their fate as they knew that if they stormed the three serviceable lifeboats, the women and children in them would surely drown. They stood in their ranks even as the ship split in two. The ship then tilted and the soldiers were thrown overboard. Some drowned and others faced an even worse fate as the waters were infested with sharks. Of the 638 people who sailed on the HMS Birkenhead, only 193 survived. And that is where the saying "women and children first" comes from. Gold reputed to be worth in excess of 300,000 pounds went down with the ship, but to this day if any of it has been found, it has not been reported to the authorities.

Eternal Voyage Of The Flying Dutchman

When the wind howls and the waves crash against the coast, the ghost of the Flying Dutchman is said to haunt the waters around the Cape of Good Hope. Tales have filtered down through generations of a phantom ship with broken masts, flying before the gale and doomed to battle forever to round the Cape. Some say the legend goes all the way back to Bartholomew Dias, The Portuguese navigator who drowned when his ship sank off the Cape two years after he successfully rounded it. However, the most often told tale is that of Captain van der Decken, a Dutchman, who on his homeward journey ran into a storm in 1641. It is said that while his ship was sinking he vowed that he would round the Cape if he had to keep sailing until doomsday. It is said that whoever catches a glimpse of the Flying Dutchman, will perish, just as Van der Decken did. Keepers of the lighthouse at the tip of the peninsula have often reported seeing a sailing ship at the height of a storm. Perhaps the most famous sighting was on 11 July 1881 when a young midshipman, on the Royal Navy ship, Bacchante, recorded that at 4 am the Flying Dutchman crossed their bows. The lookout man in the forecastle reported her as being close to the port bow. Also the officer of the watch saw her as a strange red light of a phantom ship all aglow. Soon afterwards the lookout man fell from a mast to his death, but the curse of the Flying Dutchman did not touch the midshipman, who later became King George V.

The Ghost With Red-Hot Handshake

According to the legend, in about 1880, a farm owner died and his farm was taken over by his brother-in-law who was an unpleasant character. He began to mistreat the dead man's wife and daughter. The daughter was being courted by a young man from Wellington and after visiting her one evening he was untethering his horse when he felt that there was someone watching him. The young man asked the stranger to identify himself. The shadow answered that he was the previous owner. The young man argued that this was not possible since he had been dead for a year. The ghost chuckled and moved into the light, and there was no doubt as to who it was. The ghost told the young man to tell his brother-in-law to treat his wife and daughter better or it would be the worse for him. As proof that he had been there he told the young man to wrap his hand in his saddle blanket. The ghost then firmly shook his hand. There was a puff of smoke and the imprint of the dead man's hand was clearly burned into the blanket. This was enough to send the brother-in-law packing and leave the family in peace.

Huberta The Wandering Hippo Who Went On A Three-Year Ramble

No-one will ever know what made Huberta leave her muddy home n Zululand, but in November 1928, she started on one of the most dotty animal adventures of all time. For the next three years she wandered over 1600 km through South Africa. She wandered across railway lines, golf courses and gardens and popped up in cities and towns. Her fame spread quickly and soon she had a contingent following her, who thinking she was a he, wanted to capture her as a mate for a lonely female hippo in the Johannesburg Zoo. The public began to love the adventurous hippo and the Natal Parks Board proclaimed her royal game and the zoo men were ordered to leave her alone. Early in March, Huberta's footprints were found on a housing estate, and rumor had it she was looking for a house, but none had a sufficiently large bathroom. After a brief stop at a reservoir in Pinetown, Huberta pulled her most dangerous stunt, she gate crashed a party at the Durban Country Club. In the ensuing confusion, she charged off across the golf course and a policeman found her in the doorway of a chemist's shop in the city. When she reached the Wild Coast, the Pondo people overlooked the fact that she was eating their crops because they thought she was the reincarnation of a legendary diviner. In March 1931 Huberta had reached East London and was spotted sleeping on the main railway line. An engine driver, who failed to wake her with his whistle, edged the train forward and gently nudged her off of the tracks. In April 1931, Huberta's luck finally ran out, three hunters shot her. There was a national outcry and her killers were tracked down. They pleaded ignorance and were fined R 25 each for destroying royal game. The body of Huberta can be seen at the Kaffrarian Museum in King William's Town.

Secrets Of Modjadji The "Immortal" Rain Queen

During disturbances in the 16th Century a princess of the karanga people in Zimbabwe, fled to the fertile valley of the Molototsi River, east of Duiwelskloof. The princess became the most famous rain-maker in Africa. She called herself Modjadji and withdrew from public view. People began to believe she was immortal and the book "She" by Sir Henry Rider Haggard is based on her. Even the savage warriors, the Swazi's and Zulu's held her in awe. The mystique of Modjadji remains to this day. The capital of the present successor to the original rain queen is situated on a hill slope, below which is a weird forest of trees known as Modjadji cycads. Gifts are still sent to Modjadji as an inducement for her to make rain.

Jock Of The Bushveld

"Jock of the Bushveld" written by Sir Percy Fitzpatrick, ranks as a literary classic of South Africa. It is essentially a true story covering Sir Percy's years as a transport rider and is rich in episodes of hunting , real-life characters and adventures in the haunts of big game. During these years he acquired Jock, the runt of the litter who became the bravest of hunters and the most resourceful of companions. Today a number of commemorative plaques and cairns can be seen along the old transport routes. In the Barberton Park is a statue of Jock of the Bushveld and outside the town is a large acacia tree under which Jock and his master often camped. Inside the Impala Hotel is a mural frieze scenes from the Jock of the Bushveld story.

Tales Of The Rip Van Winkle Of Zastron

Tales about Renier du Wapenaar are part of the folklore of Southern Africa. Renier lived on a farm on the site of what is now the town of Zastron. With his long flowing beard, ragged trousers and peaked cap, he looked like Rip van Winkle. It is said that one day when food was short because of a drought, he fired into a flock of pigeons and killed so many that the overjoyed people of Zastron had to cart them away in six ox-wagons. In the Zastron area is an odd-looking peak named "Vulture Mountain" which has a great big hole beneath its summit. According to Renier he was out hunting one day when he met the devil. The devil eyed his ancient gun and asked what it was. Renier replied that it was a pipe. The devil, being a keen smoker, asked if he could sample Renier's tobacco. Renier warned him that the tobacco was strong, but the devil nevertheless insisted. Renier then loaded his gun with a triple charge of gun powder and a variety of projectiles and give it to the devil. He told the devil to put the one end in his mouth and he lit the fuse. There was an enormous explosion and the devil's head went hurtling through the air and knocked a hole in the mountain. "Damn it!" came the voice of the devil in the distance, "that tobacco of yours is on the rough side!".

Dick King's Epic Journey

In the early hours of 25 May 1842 began one of history's epic journeys. Dick King and his 16-year-old servant, Ndongeni, slipped across Durban Bay to the shore to race towards Grahamstown for reinforcements and supplies for the British garrison who were besieged by the Voortrekkers. Dick crossed nearly 1000 km of wild country, with 122 rivers and streams to ford.. He reached Grahamstown in ten days and reinforcements were hastily shipped from Port Elizabeth. On 26 June the siege was broken and both Dick and Ndongeni were granted land as a reward. The equestrian monument to Dick King on the Victoria embankment in Durban was erected in 1915.

The Nation That Committed Suicide

At a pool in the Gxara River, the strange predictions of a 14-year-old girl called Nongquawuse, virtually led her people to commit suicide. One day in 1856, she was sitting at the pool and looked down and thought she saw the faces of her ancestors. She told her people that their ancestors were prepared to return to earth to drive out the Europeans, but first the people had to commit an act of faith which would prove their belief in the spirit world. They would have to kill all their cattle and burn all their crops. Those who refused would be turned into frogs, mice and ants and would be blown into the sea by a mighty whirlwind. For ten months they destroyed their provisions waiting for the day of their salvation that Nongquawuse predicted, 18 February 1957. On that day a blood-red sun would rise, stand still, and then set again in the east. As the great day dawned the people waited in anticipation, but the sun rose and set as normal. About 25 000 people died of starvation. Others survived only with the help of neighboring communities and Europeans. As for Nongquawuse, she would have been killed by her people had she not fled to King William's Town and was kept for a while on Robben Island for her own safety.

How The Cape Doctor Lays The Tablecloth

The Cape Doctor refers to the howling South-Easter, this wind makes the city's atmosphere one of the healthiest in the world by blowing away pollution, dust, and insects. It also creates the scenic wonder of Table Mountain's tablecloth, a strangely neat cap of cloud which, in summer months, rolls across the flat summit and drapes itself over the edges in a neat straight line.

Gerald Crawford was born in South Africa, studied electronics, telecommunication, eco-travel and african travel concepts. He taught responsible tourism in South Africa. If you have any questions or comments please e-mail me on. E-mail Address: southafricantravelarticles@12234455.co.za Website Address: http://www.12234455.co.za

What Your Auto Insurer Knows About You

2009-01-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by James Diaz

In order to give you an accurate rate an insurance company needs to gather certain information about you. Getting accurate and thorough information means receiving a correct quote. No one minds if the price goes down because information changes but if the price increases then people tend to get angry. If the price changes due to information found out after your policy is started, than you can be sure to get an additional premium notice. So let's discuss what information an insurance company needs to receive from you.

The first thing that an insurer, meaning the company that you have asked to insure you, does is to run a motor vehicle report ( known as a MVR) on you. This MVR report shows what tickets or accidents you were charged with during the dates specified in the search. Most insurance companies will check your drivers record up to 3 years back, although some will go back even further. Further searches are typically up to 5 years back.

Any violation or accidents that you were charged with will show up on your MVR. This report will also usually show the status of your drivers license. This will inform the insuring company if your license is valid, expired or suspended. Personal information shown on this reports will include: the current address you provided, your social security number (although some MVR reporting companies do not list this information) and your date of birth. The MVR will list how many identification cards or licenses you have had. The report also shows the number of license suspensions you have had in the past.

Clue reports are another report used to gather information. This report is used to see what type of claims you have filed or have been filed against you. These may or may not be your fault, but if an insurance company paid out money on your behalf, it will show up here on this report. The clue report also may be used to list all the people in your household. This will show all those who have the potential to drive your vehicle. It will show the status and license number of all the household residents. If the people listed will be driving your vehicle then their motor vehicle records will also be run.

Credit reports could also be used by an insurance company to rate you. The insurance company will usually give you a rate then verify your credit score using your full name and social security number. You are then rated on a tier system. The best prices are for those that have good credit. You may have a spotless driving record but if you have poor credit you might not get the cheapest rates.

Insurance companies also know where you live and which cities are the busiest and most congested. Every county has its own territory rating based on population, number of accidents and/or claims occurring in it and age demographics. The biggest cities are the most expensive for insurance premiums while the counties that are considered to be more rural will be cheaper to be insured in.

As you can now tell the insurance company does its background research on potential policy holders. The more the company knows about you, the better it is for you. Not only does it allow for the most accurate rate, but it assures that claims are paid correctly and with no delays.

Visit http://www.carinsurance.com for Car Insurance in your State

James Diaz is a representative of CarInsurance.com. You can visit CarInsurance.com at http://www.carinsurance.com or contact them at 1-877-327-8728.

CarInsurance.com's online insurance marketplace gives an opportunity to consumers and to insurance companies. We offer the ability to shop for car insurance online.

Consumers can receive quotes from many insurance companies, in some states you are able to purchase your insurance instantly, online. You don't have to drive your car to buy car insurance. Buy online... anytime!

Animal Photos Not Just For Kids Anymore

2009-01-03T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Ian Henman

Many people think that pictures of animals are just for children, but boy are they all mistaken. They might look at cute animal photos when they are small, but as they grow, they assume that, like cuddly stuffed bears, these pictures of animals are best left to childhood. Oh sure, trying to be cute, their boss might leave animal photos up around the office as a pleasant, if boring decoration, but no one ever thinks about these pictures at all. I really do think that this is a great shame. As a professional animal photographer, it should be no surprise that I like animal photos, but the reasons might be things that you have never thought about.

One of the greatest things about animal photos is that they really can capture any emotion that you can think about. People are often reserved about showing what is going on inside them, but reserve is not really anything that shows up too frequently among the members of the animal kingdom. In animal photos, we have the chance to see practically any emotion, from the tenderness of a mother cat caring for her young, to the fierceness of a lion pouncing for the kill, to the sly disdain of a baboon, leaving its friends behind for new fun.

Many people believe that we are not really seeing these expressions in animal photos, and that what we are seeing is just a reflection of our own emotions that we want to pin on animals, but anyone who has spent any time with animals at all knows that this is simply not true. When we look at animal photos, we are looking out at our own emotions, not because we put them there, but because animals are really very strikingly similar to us. Dogs really do feel loyalty and friendliness quite often. You can tell if you have a pet dog what the expressions in dog animal photos really mean. Cats really are quite evil and sneaky, not because their tiny, creepy eyes look that way in animal photos, but because that is their natural temperament. Animals are less intelligent than we are, and are more driven by instinct, but that does not change the fact that they feel real emotions the same as we do. It does not take animal photos to show most of us the truth of this statement, but looking at pictures of animals can help to confirm it again and again.

For more information about animal photos, and other types of photos and photography please check out website at Photography Tips.

Diamond

2009-01-02T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Elizabeth Mettarod

Diamonds are still one of the most highly prized stones for both men's and women's jewelry. Of course, the first thing we think of is a wedding ring. Almost every wedding ring has at least one diamond. Many have several diamonds. There is a lot to know when choosing a diamond. So, it helps to find a jeweler you can trust. If you don't have a family jeweler already, I suggest you ask your friends whom they trust.

But trusting a jeweler is no substitute for knowing what you want or what your intended may want in diamond jewelry. A jeweler can be the best there is, but they still cannot predict a person's style or tastes; that you will have to figure out on your own. There are some excellent articles on Adiamodnsisforever.com about how to choose jewelry for someone else. Learn what you can and then ask the jeweler for help about the particulars. There are so many variations in cut and quality of a diamond.

Of course, diamonds are for more than wedding rings. Maybe you want to give a diamond watch or a necklace? What about a diamond bracelet? First, be sure that the person you're giving it to actually wants to wear that type of jewelry. Me, I never wear bracelets. I am on the computer too much. I don't like having something dangling from my wrist. But you will always see me wearing earrings and a necklace. The same goes for men. Do they wear rings? Watches? Some men do wear necklaces. Does he?

Then you need to choose settings. Does the person you're buying for wear yellow gold? White gold? Platinum? That you can easily observe for yourself. Other things may not be so obvious. Check with people who have known this person for a long time. If you're buying for a woman, check with her girlfriends. They are very likely to know exactly what she wants. Guys may be a little more challenging, but you can do your best. Besides, who in their right mind ever turned down a piece of diamond jewelry?

Elizabeth Mettarod works as a wedding consultant. She specializes in alternative religious ceremonies, especially for couples with different faith preferences. She loves creating a beautiful ceremony that everyone can enjoy. Read more articles about diamonds at Diamond

Caught In The Hourglass

2009-01-01T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Nymph Kellerman

He was born and bred in a small town on the outskirts of South Africa, in the Bushman-land where summer turns life into a living hell and winter freezes it in its totality. Cruel land of extremes.

War broke out during his last year of school and before long, he found himself crossing the blue African skies as a fighter pilot. Sharing a bungalow with 29 RAFs, English became like a mother tongue. He met his wife during the war. An Irish girl with long, pitch-black hair and eyes that reminded him of the blue skies where he served his country. It was love at first sight and they got married while the war was still on. At first her non church-going Catholic parents merely tolerated their new son-in-law who was to be a preacher in a Protestant domination, and his staunch Afrikaner parents rebelled against the new Irish-Catholic daughter-in-law. But love conquers all, and finally the families made peace and accepted each other.

It was only after the war that he went to university to study Theology, and he did so in faith. His father was a poor farmer who could not afford to send his four sons to university, but he brought them up in the ways of the Lord, and the preacher knew where to find his resources. So did his three brothers, and God provided well for them all and they were never short of anything The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want and the bills got paid. month after month after month

While still at university, his wife gave birth to a stillborn boy, and a year later to a little girl who was sickly at first, but the angels did babysitting while the couple was busy with their required daily activities

His first calling was back to the rigid, callous Bushman-land with its ruthless sun and its need of sheltering shadows He worked hard and was always supported by his wife, who could by then speak Afrikaans. But time marched on and the years tinted their once dark hair a soft silvery colour. The moon shines with gentle compassion on those who tasted life to the fullest. A few more callings took him through the Karoo, Namibia and back to where he is now serving the Lord on the High Veld.

Saturday afternoons allow for time alone in his study while preparing for the Sunday sermons. The windows are open and he takes pleasure in the variety of bird songs that come to him in a hundred different harmonies. Songs written by the Good Lord Himself His eyes pan over the private collection of over four thousand books. They have become his best friends, his intimate friends. The grand old Emboya desk with matching swivel chair was a birthday present from his wife. Not long now, and she will bring their 4 o'clock coffee with homemade chocolate-chip cookies on a neatly decorated tray. Saturday afternoon ritual of two gray-winged doves..

Within five years' time he will retire, something for which they started preparing many years ago. Together they dream of a cute two-bedroom, two-bathroom cottage by the sea, with a spacious open plan kitchen-living room area. Only their favorite furniture will be send down, and only one car will be kept. The Stinkwood lounge suite that was a grand investment some 30 years ago, and grandma's bone China tea-set which she inherited. Her own Royal Albert set, and as many of his leather-bound books as they can fit in. The West coast of so many of their dreams where they will walk long summer walks during early evenings. Where they will have time to listen to Mozart's piano concertos and the operas of Pucinni. Where she will have enough time to paint again, and he will write poetry and a long promised autobiography.

And time will be time, caught in the hourglass, and locked up for all eternities to come.

Nymph completed her L.T.C.L. in music and drama, and obtained a B.A. Psychology and Philosophy a few years later. She trained as formal singer under various renowned vocal advisers and performed in numerous concerts, recitals, and oratorios. After a car accident that lead to a few neuro surgeries, she began investigating the benefits of deep relaxation and wrote a few books and numerous articles on the subject.

e-mail: nymphkellerman@telkomsa.net websites: http://www.sazone.biz/bookshop

http://www.spiralbookshop.com

http://www.spiralstaircasebookshop.blogspot.com Subscription to "The Spiral news" is free and our contact information is spiralnews@spiralbookshop.com

Online Gambling History

2008-12-31T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Rick Ellers

These days, it seems like almost everyone is familiar with gambling on the Internet. Be it online poker, Blackjack, or some other game, most people are either doing it or know someone who is. It seems like these Internet gaming sites sprung up overnight. How did they get started and how have they reached the levels they are at today?

In 1994, the country of Antigua and Barbuda in the Leeward Islands of the Caribbean became a legal jurisdiction that could give out gambling licenses. Since gambling is not licensed in most of the United States, this fact made the creation of an online gambling site very tempting. There was now a location out of which online casinos could operate and still cater to clients in America and elsewhere. There was still the matter, however, of having the software to facilitate online gaming.

Microgaming was the first to answer the call, creating the first real online casino software in 1994. Cryptologic shortly followed. Cryptologic, formed in 1995, was created by Andrew and Mark Rivkin in an effort to produce ease in Internet transactions. Online gaming was a natural outcropping of this endeavor and in 1996, their software was the foundation for InterCasino, which allowed real money play over the Internet.

At that time, the Internet was just beginning to generate the kind of traffic that it enjoys today. As the years passed, more improvements were made on gaming software to enhance the experience and more people began to discover the exciting prospects the Internet had to offer in this area.

In 1998, Planet Poker, the first online poker site, was launched. PokerRoom followed shortly afterwards, in 1999. In 2001, the two giants of online poker, Party Poker and Poker Stars, entered the scene. The explosion in poker popularity helped these sites tremendously, Party Poker, because it advertised frequently on the World Poker Tour and even shared its spokesperson, Mike Sexton and PokerStars, because the 2003 World Series of Poker Champion Chris Moneymaker won his seat on a PokerStars satellite tournament for $40.

The main concern many of these sites have today is that new legislation, especially in the United States, will block users from legally availing themselves of these sites. A number of lobbying organizations, such as the Poker Players Alliance, have sprung up in an effort to ward off these attempts. The CardPlayer website, www.cardplayer.com, has a link which can direct you how to write Congress in opposition to such legislation.

Today, online casinos for poker, traditional casino games such as Blackjack and Roulette and even newer games such as Caribbean Stud and Pai Gow Poker, are all over the Internet. The software for casino gaming websites is constantly being refined, giving most of the sites a beautiful look and feel, as well as ease in playability and navigating the site. If you enjoy casino gambling, surf around and check some of these sites out. There is bound to be at least one site that provides the gaming experience you are looking for.

Rick "Stone Face" Ellers started playing poker while he was a paratrooper stationed in Fort Bragg, NC. He currently writes part time for PokerListings.com where you can keep up-to-date on the World Series of Poker and Poker Tournaments around the world.

A Case Of Infantigo Spread The Word

2008-12-30T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Rita Somenthal

My son caught infantigo while we were traveling home from Argentina on an airplane. He had an open wound on his wrist from a torn aluminum juice can, and the wound grew more and more infected.

At first we thought that he was having an allergic reaction, but the symptoms didn't go away after a full day, so we thought it best to seek the advice of a professional doctor. The next day we were home, our family doctor recognized the rash immediately and prescribed antibiotics and rest for our little boy. The antibiotics cleared up the infantigo within one week, which was a relief indeed.

Our family had no idea that this bacterial disease existed until this happened to us, so I'm writing this article as an informative venture for any parent who is unaware of its existence.

Any public area is a potential high risk area for conditions like infantigo (impetigo) that can be transmitted from person to person. The bacteria are transferred when an infected person touches any infected object with his or her skin. Then the bacteria are picked up by an unsuspecting child (sometimes an adult) who touches the contaminated item later.

It is important to note that the infantigo bacteria can only enter the human system through cuts or abrasions in the skin. If the skin is healthy then the bacteria will not be able to get in. If your child has a cut, make sure to wash with soap frequently to avoid this nasty bacterial infection. And remember that door handles, luggage trolley handles, hand railings, seats and seat belts etc all provide good opportunities for the bacteria to spread.

About The Author
Rita Somenthal is a concerned mother. She has founded www.ainfantigo.com to help spread the word, not the bacteria!

A Short History Of Richmond Illinois

2008-12-29T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Greg Cryns

Richmond, Illinois, is a very small and quaint town on the border of Illinois and Wisconsin. Its population is now about 1,500 but new housing developments will quadrouple the number of homes within the next 10 years. It is called "The Village of Yesteryear" because it boasts many Victorian style homes and an interesting array of antique shops.

William A. McConnell is credited with the founding of the village of Richmond.

Also known as "The Squire," McConnell was a 27 year old carpenter and farmer who lived in Pennsylvania. He dreamed of independence and trekked to the Richmond area on horseback in 1837. In his biography, McConnell stated that there were but two neighbors in the area. He staked out a claim for 480 acres of land and bought it when it came to market in 1840 under the Blackhawk Treaty. Family lore says that McConnell spent his first night under an oak sapling across the street from what is now Richmond Grade School. That very mature tree still stands. Bo McConnell, a great grandson, calls it "the little oak." At that time the Richmond area was mostly prairie with patches of oak trees and still part of Lake County, Illinois.

In 1838 McConnell and his new wife, Elizabeth, built a 16' x 18' log cabin in which his family lived for 15 years. It was located just west of what is now Grace Lutheran Church and it was the first residence built in Richmond Township. A mill was built on the Nippersink circa 1840 and that area is now occupied by Doyle's restaurant.

In 1852 McConnell built a house in the Greek Revival style across the street from the log cabin. He and his family lived in this house for 20 years raising three sons. In 1872 he deeded the house to his son, John.

Over time, McConnell purchased approximately 1,400 acres from the government. The town boundaries were laid out in 1844 and Richmond was given its name in a contest to the man who climbed the highest when the new mill was raised. That man was Isaac Reed who chose the name from a village he remembered from his childhood in Vermont.

McConnell had his hands in many local activities. He was on the railroad commission, a legislator in Springfield, elected a commissioner of McHenry County, Richmond's first Justice of the Peace, its first Postmaster and an Associate Judge for 16 years. He belonged to the first temperance group in McHenry County. McConnell opened the first cheese factory about one-half mile west of the town. The Old Bank building on Broadway was owned by McConnell's son, George. "That's Uncle George's bank. That's what we'd call it," remembered Bo McConnell, a great-great-grandson of William A. McConnell.

How Richmond was named

Theodore Purdy purchased the log house of Charles A. Noyes in 1937. Purdy platted the village in 1844 with Charles Cotting who settled in Richmond in 1844. Together they built a grist mill at Main & Mill Streets.

A contest was arranged that the person who climbed the highest on the new mill could name the village. Isaac Reed won the contest and named the village after Richmond, Vermont, where he lived as a child.

Richmond grows up

By the middle 1840's Richmond resembled a small town with a hotel, a sawmill, a wagon maker, a doctor and a lawyer. McConnell built a cheese factory (possibly the first in McHenry County) west of the town. Officially incorporated on September 2, 1872, Dr. Fillmore Bennett was elected the first president of the village. The first principal of the grad school, Fillmore wrote poems and religious hymns. "In the Sweet Bye and Bye" was the most famous. Railroads made their appearance in the 1850's. McConnell was a one of the railroad directors. The first train crossed the Nippersink in 1855. Memorial Hall

Charles DeWitt McConnell donated $10,000 to the village "to be used for the purpose of erecting a village or city hall, the same to be called Memorial Hall, to be used when required by church societies and school functions free of charge, and not to be used for immoral exhibitions or immoral shows" Village President, E.C. Covell, bought the land where Memorial Hall now stands from Charles Kruse who owned the hardware store on the corner in the middle of town at Broadway and Rt. 12. The hardware story later became the Emporium antique store and the "Kruse" name can be seen etched at the top of the front wall today.

Memorial Hall was constructed in the early 1900's. It contained an auditorium with a balcony and a stage where the J.B. Rotnour Players performed for many years.

The Richmond Police Department occupied part of the basement along with two jail cells.

Village board meetings were held in Memorial Hall until the new village hall was built in 1993. This building is now shared with the police department. This left the hall vacant until Chris Gallagher secured a grant from the Illinois Arts Councle in 1992 to create the Nippersink Creative Arts Center. Founding member include Christina Gallagher, Yvonne Cryns, Carolyn Janus, Donna Karolus and Nancy Richardson. Many local groups donated money to the organization. The Creative Arts Center pushed to make Memorial Hall the historical landmarked building it is today.

The public library used the hall starting in the 1930's. In the 1940's the library moved to a part of the drug store building on Broadway and Main. But on July 7, 1972 the library moved back into Memorial Hall before moving to its own building in 1990. In addition to village government work, the Memorial Hall hosted school plays and graduations. Basketball games were played there starting in 1908.

Other basement activities included meetings held by Boy and Girl Scouts, American Legion, and a senior citizen group known as the Pioneers. This is where the local polling place resided.

Richmond Fire Department

Founded in 1926, the Richmond Volunteer Fire Department's first meeting was held at Memorial Hall and it was headed by Mayor J.G. "Curly" Stevens.

Richmond Post Office

The post office has been in service for over 150 years. Appointed in 1940, William A. McConnell served as the first postmaster for six years. In the early years, settlers in the area found great comfort from the post office which brought news of events from their original home towns. As late as the 1960's the Chicago Tribune was delivered by the post office. Farmers needed honey bees which were also delivered by the post office and they mailed out eggs to the big city.

Until 1946 trains brought mail to Richmond. Since 1946 mail is delivered by trucks. The current postmaster is William L. Schaeppi since 1988.

The new mayor of Richmond, Illinois, is Laurie Olson. Olson's family has a long history in Richmond. Olson was a homemaker and volunteer member of the fire department before she was elected mayor in 2004.

Greg Cryns is the founder of McHenry Online.com. The website focuses on facts and other information about McHenry County in northern Illinois. http://www.mchenryonline.com He is also the ownner of http://www.wahmsearchengine.com Wahm Search Engine.com

The Great Tower At Kura Short Story And An Old Old Man A Poem

2008-12-28T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Dennis Siluk

Part one of two Parts

The Great Tower at Kura
The Great Tower at Kura
[4th Millennium BC]

At the start of the 4th-millennium BC (350-years before the Great Flood took place, which ended all civilizations on the face of the earth) gave rise to Slaug (a region of land, territory), an empire within civilization (a city-state of sorts); --of which, the human race was subject to an international court, that incorporated a triangle of cultures, empires, societies, and nations across all the connecting continents of the world, of which all were connected at this particular time together. Theymeaning all lands on earthwas the composition, one opus for the entire globe, sustained from one region in the Atlantic, wherein, the strait nearby, which lead into the Mediterranean, would be know as the Pillars of Hercules; yet at that time there was no connecting of the Atlantic to the Mediterranean Sea above land.

There were no external moral laws either, against any behavior during this era of civilizations around the globe. Yes, people were different, and humility was not a virtue; the laws within the heart that told one it was wrong, were dead, like bones left to dry in a corpse. What might be considered unmoral actions, were all relative.

Economies were oftenwhich was the normbased on slavery for its labor and other desirable services. There was no discrimination, all were equal in the minds of the slave owners, mastersbitter-sweet you might sayslaves being: brown, white, black, yellow, red skin, the world over, and the government favored no one, and savagely dealt with each and everyone the same, as if to say, human life was a commodity at best; to the earths total, and complete sum, all combined civilizations were part of the circle.

As one was reared to think back in these days: death was simply a recycling of that commodity to be found in most every corner of the world; consequently, free labor in a city-state was a right, which it was given by the great democracy that had its world command center in the Atlantic, by a mysterious nation, a powerful and ingenious people, a subgroup from a higher order that no one dared to defy; democracy bent on, and within the world that did not subject the Atlantic Power Region [APR], to it. The Slaug's had more slaves possibly than any other civilization on earth at this time; that is, this time I am writing about, the time when this story really did take place, according to my dream-vision. Who am I [if you are asking], I'm the dream, my name is Shark, and I have left these hidden secrets within a mound on an island for another time, for people to find and explore my writings, if you have found these writings, and this story, than you have searched or someone has what is called 'Sacred Geometry,' and so be it; for I have searched high and low in all the lands of the world to bring alive mysteries that have been hidden, and this is one.

Religious dissenters [nonconformist] were killed, butchered alive in front of citizens; I did say democracy was in this landdid I notbut open was its boarders to debauchery and the Nation of the Atlantic held the secrets of the necromantic-culture, and that is what the people wanted; buried alive in front of whoever wished to watch, and be it a testament to those who wished to defy the democracyof which inhuman crudity of the era was, or better put, seemed to be, in human crudity, being normal; it is really only this day and age that man has stepped forward to wave the flag of moral rights and responsibilities, yet hidden beyond all the dictators of the world of today, is exactly what was back in those far off days, evil-hiddenblack enchantmentthis was the rule, the norm.

Again I must say, and one should remember, it was the model, natural for people to act this way, or was it? Hundreds were put into huge burials [dugout-graves] holes in the ground: perhaps four-hundred could be thrown or tossed, cast in like diseased cattle into these grave pits (I have seen this with my own eyes in my vision). The liar was crucified upside down, he was considered a man with his insides out, and had no skeleton, thus, he was de-boned like a fish soon after, and left to rot outside the cities with the hyenas.

When sentiment: attitude, or opinions crept out, and were witnessed as to anything against the laws and ideals of the Atlantic-Governing Region, it was put out by the abolitionist, then and only then. This was the group that bore the Eagle Wings (yes this group was the Hidden Red Guards, the SS Nazis of our day; the CIA, or FBI, or KGB of the day); the Abolitionist of Kura, that worked for the Atlanta Group, were all of these subgroups and more. The emblem that went above their chest, or copper armbands, or brass ring, was the same emblem many other nations in future time would acquired. For example, the wings would go onto the Egyptian culture as well as the Persians to follower and the Roman's would adopt the eagle wings; and yet far off in the future, the Nazi's. And in the longer version of humanity yet to be born, the eagle wings would be adapted by North America to follow, the United States, for some odd reason this emblem would never rest for 10,000-years; never relax, never to find a inactive place for very long, remaining open to the conquers of the world, or so it seemed; yes, this was also used by this powerful nation to clench world power, this Atlanta Groupsaying their government was for the people by the peoplehence, democracy was born, but not signifying exactly what people wanted per se (for they were in a way brain washed), and even though it was not considered as great of an achievement as in today's standards, it was significant nonetheless; and so it was.

The Abolitionist of Kura (within the city's governing element), who were the enforcers, would chase down the traderstraders that were considered against the people of course, --the people of the Atlantic Group, so they'd say; the only favoritism was to their own kind was The Atlantic Groupwhich ruled the world bi-proxy, and at bay. In this city, the city really named Kura, but yet was known as, "The City of the Great Tower," which was on the edge of the Black Sea, during its existence there was no Black Sea per seat this time, it would come after the Great Floodyes I repeat, it did not exit yet, it rather was created, created after the great upheaval of the earth. It was a desert now, a plateau kingdom that rested on the deserts edge, indented with terrain that would someday make a great sea; that said, after the continents would be split in-two (un-connecting the land masses) the crust of the earth would twist with birth pains, turning everything upside down during this Great Flood to be, of this era yet to come. But I'm ahead of my dreamKura, as was this powerful and mighty economic city-state called, gained the name of: "The Great City Tower," is where I wish to remain.

As I was about to say, in the middle of the city of Kura, in its very center, its nerve center, otherwise known as its 'navel,' stood a two-thousand foot tower, two-thousand feet high into the dusty-blue ink like atmosphere. Its circumference huge also was deep rooted, that is to say, planted, and pushed deep into the crust of the earth to secure it for five-thousand years. It was a marvel of might to an on looking world by its visitors and tourist; but the might came from the Atlantic again, like most things of extraordinary feats, for they did the planting, and I shall get to that momentarily.

Like a peg, a fence peg, it was as it was: unfathomable, much entrenched was this mighty tower, this landmark of all landmarks into layers and layers of earth; taller than the pyramids of Egypt, stronger than the stonewalls of Troy, and more durable than Stonehenge; and older than the Sphinx. Who could boast a mightier beacon such as this [?] Not even Gilgamish and his mighty Uruk. Yet this symbol was not of hope or for one to look forward to, on behalf of mankind, rather the opposite, it was an encouragement to be subdued by the Atlantic group.

Within this city-fortress that spread out like the sun's beams from the implanted tower, where 230,000-city inhabitants lived, of which 25,000 were-slaves who lived and ate and gossiped and tolerated the rules from the heap that ruled from the Atlantic region, that is, employed slaves with no wages other than time to spend until they earned their freedom, as a result, joining the democracy, the democracy that said they had to be in a slave-status, in all respects, this made the city's populace somewhere around or close to: 255,000 at this point and time. All the people, as if it was a draft, knew they had to serve two years in slavery upon their sixteenth-birthday. And if not, how could an economy grow prosperousit was beyond their comprehension, it was an unanswerable question, and pleasing to the Atlantic Group to leave it that way, wherein they had installed this reasoning for many years. It was something never brought up, after its implantation into civilization. The only way to get out of it was to buy your way out before you got in. And should you commit any infractions during your servitude, your time could be extended. The government could use your time and services, or you could be auctioned off by the government to the populist for commodities needed (Note: it is not much different in many ways as being a slave to credit cards of the 21st century I do believe; and trying to pay for credit given in advance, thus one sells his body and soul).

In essence, you did as you were told under this democratic-bondage: for the people by the people, so it was said, but what was meant was free labor for economic purposes, instead of an army that would spoil and use up all ones resources by free labor again to the government, therefore it was in a way, better for the populace, and for the commanding army of some two thousand miles away. In addition, there was open, or free sex if the master so desired it from his or her slave, be it with man or woman, or both?

Look for 'Part Two,' and now here is the poem:

An Old, Old Man
[Dedicated to Papa Augusto]

His words are in shackles,
His eyes are dim,
Not a word, says he
But they snap at him
The ultimate love:
Is his children and hope
He kneels now and prays
And bows to his God!

Exposed to the demons
That circles the air
He sits and he thinks:
"How much can I bear?"

He's an old, old man
his days are but few
He sits and he thinks:
"How much time can I stew?"

#608 [3/31/05]

Poet and Author: Dennis L. Siluk, website: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com

La Quinceanera Party History And Facts

2008-12-27T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Gail Leino

La Quinceanera is also known as Mis Quince in many areas. This celebration marks the fifteenth birthday of a young Hispanic woman. Much like a mix between the Bat Mitzvah and a Sweet Sixteenth celebration this can be a very big event. Families are known to save up money long before the fifteenth birthday in order to make this the most lavish celebration ever. Lavish it can be, too. The Quinceanera can involve live bands, limousines, flowers, catered food, and lots of gifts. Its traditional for the young woman celebrating her fifteenth to pick out a very elegant ball gown dress for the occasion. She'll also carry a bouquet of flowers. The friends and family members will also dress up for the quinceanera, but the birthday girl can't be outshined by anyone.

La Quinceanera comes from the Spanish for the fifteenth birthday, and as mentioned before its commonly celebrated in Hispanic cultures in places like Mexico and South America. It's also a spiritual celebration for everyone involved with the party. A church service is held before the party where the pastor speaks about the importance of the Quinceanera tradition. The young woman speaks about her hopes and dreams for the future and her parents speak about their happiness for her and what she brought into their lives.

Of course after all this heartfelt, teary eyed honesty, its time to party. In old tradition the entire group follows the party girl through the town in parade formation to where the party takes place. Now, though its more likely to be a parade of cars. At the party the fifteen year old will have her traditional 'first' coed dance with a boy, signaling that she is growing up. Then others join her on the dance floor for some fun and possibly to earn some dance floor prizes.

Mrs. Party... Gail Leino is the internet's leading authority on selecting the best possible party supplies (http://partysupplieshut.com), using proper etiquette, and living a healthy life while also teaching organizational skills and fun facts. The Party Supplies Hut has lots of party ideas with hundreds of free coloring sheets, printable games, and free birthday party activities. Over 100 adorable Party Themes (PartyThemeShop.com) to fit your birthday celebration, holiday event, or "just because" parties is at the Party Theme Shop. Party themes include cartoon characters, sports, movie, TV shows, luau, western, holidays, and unique crazy fun theme ideas.

Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About Prints

2008-12-26T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Elizabeth Morgan

For millions of people across the world photography is a part of their daily lives, a means to record memories and capture important occasions. Everyone loves looking at photographs and we have all at some time, eagerly anticipated prints that will help us relive a holiday or birthday or graduation.

Making photographic prints is easy these days just a matter of sending film to the print shop to be developed and printed but there was a time when photographs were only taken for historic occasions. The earliest photographic images, called daguerreotypes, were made on copper plates and could not be easily replicated, so a family photograph was jealously guarded. In time, photographic images were made on paper and underwent a series of avatars before the prints we are familiar with made their appearance more than a century later. The discovery of the negative to print system revolutionized photography, allowing multiple prints of a photograph to be made.

The transition from black and white prints to color took place in the 1940s, with developing and printing techniques consistently improving over time. The latest development of course, is the introduction of digital photography and digital prints that can be extensively manipulated on the computer.

Available in different sizes and finishes, prints will last for decades if handled right. Bundling a lot of prints in an envelope or shoebox is not the best way to store them, but if you must, make sure they're not lying about in a humid spot. Experts recommend that prints should not be displayed in self-adhesive or magnetic photo albums. Place your prints in acid-free albums, using acid-free photo corners to secure them. Avoid the use of glue or tape that might leave ugly marks on the prints.

If you enjoy having photographs prominently displayed in your home, make sure they are not in direct sunlight to prevent them from fading. It is advisable to use an acid-free mat when framing a picture so that the glass does not come in direct contact with the print.

Photographic printing techniques are so evolved these days, prints are being considered works of art and you're more likely to see fine art prints up on walls than original paintings.

Prints provides detailed information on Digital Photo Prints, Prints, Art Prints, Print Shops and more. Prints is affiliated with Digital Art Schools.

Marcel Duchamps Objets Trouves Are They Art

2008-12-25T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Jack Wilson

Marcel Duchamp shocked the art world and, forever after, the thought processes and anger centers of most people who have come across his work.

His best known painting, done before he turned to physical objects, is probably 'Nude Descending a Staircase'.

As controversial as that was, described by one critic as "an explosion in a shingle factory", and his painting a moustache on a reproduction of the Mona Lisa, nothing quite outraged the art cognoscenti as his finding a urinal, turning it upside down, titling it "Fountain" and entering it in a major art show under the name of R. Mutt. His term for such found objects: Readymades.

The immediate question and one that remains today: Is it art? How is it possible to claim that you are the author of something that you didn't fabricate? Duchamp remarks that he has changed the viewers' perception of the object, given it a new existence and that is nothing more or less than what an artist does when he paints a picture, especially considering that he does not create the canvas, the stretcher, the brushes or the paint, and he doesn't create the subject matter; either it exists in the world or in his dreams or imaginings. In other words; nothing is really original, only ways of looking at something are original, and even that is merely a cultivated skill.

It is not hard to see that same notion at work in the compositions of classical composers. They frequently use folk songs as the bases for their symphonies or sonatas. Even if the melody is fresh, it is almost always dependant upon forms which are standard, such as the mode, the key, the standard chords and rhythms. All the composer is doing is reorganizing existing stuff so the listener hears things in a new way.

Here are some of Duchamp's remarks about the subject:

http://www.mnstate.edu/gracyk/courses/phil%20of%20art/duchamp6.htm

This site provides pictures of his most important works along with some biographical information. http://www.abcgallery.com/D/duchamp/duchamp.html

Many contemporary artists use found objects in their art. A few are:

Joseph Cornell, Salvador Dali, David Mach, Pablo Picasso, Robert Rauschenberg and Kurt Schwitters.

So, according to Duchamp, the only thing that is new is finding new ways to perceive what is already there. Open your eyes and see what has always been there but you haven't recognized.

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Jack Wilson is a writer, artist and composer from Los Angeles and Phoenix.

http://www.geocities.com/galimatio/jackwilson.html

Color Continuum

2008-12-24T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Nadeem Alam

Colors add something to life which cannot be attained by any other mean, we simply make our life colorful, we skill our dreams colorful and skill our ideas colorfully all the time. Life can never be monochrome or even black and white, it has more than seven colors, more than 256 shades, more than thousands of tones and more than hundreds of thousands tinges.

We see, absorb, react, understand and communicate colors from centuries. Even before the creation of proper verbal language or dexterity shapes, color were the basic and most true expression of human activity and emotion. Being the most enchanting gift of nature, colors might have attracted human beings at the largest scale in this universe right there at beginning to ponder over, adopt and be familiar with. This oldest relationship is still as strong as it was ever before, after centuries of rapidly evolution of life and life style, social, economical, psychological, philosophical and rationale, colors got more and more attention of all the theories, inventions and discoveries.

From the clay toys to the electronically enhanced play stations, from the graffiti in Stone Age caves to the modern billboards and from the invention of wheel to the blowing space shuttles, colors never missed their place. Meditations to industrial revolution, the man has gone through many phases of knowing thy inner-self through mythology, religion, creed, ethics, philosophy and ideology, but was never running short of colors, either at realistic level or the suggestive and symbolic altitude.

Sun is the only and most crucial source of light and heat indispensable for life in the lap of mother earth and sunlight with all colors folded in it, is a blessing without any comment while it is proven that our skin and eyes need at least two hours exposure to sunlight for better health, modern lifestyle due to its architectural requirements and social life style has deprived us of this basic need in most of the metropolitan cities around the globe, that has forced us to naturist parks, beaches and abodes which are already controversial and unacceptable in most parts of the world. But sunlight is inevitable; there is no refute about it, so indispensable become the colors entrenched in sunlight.

Modern research has changed many old theories and concepts in total, but it has put more stress and emphasis on the nature, influence and impact of colors as an entity vital in human life from start to the end. Human behaviour and feelings are studied in terms of their exposure to different colors and the impact colors might cause at the root level. Today, modern man is pretty much familiar with Color Therapy, Color Psychology and Color Consultancy. Although these therapies are very old and were in practice in Egyptian age, but the scientific reasoning and principles are derived and worked on later in 19th century.

In ancient time, there were a strong belief that wearing a jewel with a specific gemstone of a particular color can add success, happiness and serenity in life, today it is discovered that wearing a certain color wrist-band or exposure to a certain color light can really make a difference in life, the reasoning behind this philosophy is that as each object, regardless of its size, shape and weight, has got its own frequency and wavelength, same is the case with colors, every color has got specific frequency, therefore, if we could get the true calculations based on different frequency, we can use a certain color to attain desired results from healing a bacteria infected wound to a viral disease, by knowing the bacteria and virus frequencies, or getting rid of the irritating pain causing elements or ironic situations.

Apart from medical scenario, psychological problems are more vulnerable to colors and color consultants are sure to provide all sorts of comfort to a worried person through the correct choice of color. Colors are categorized generally in two basic groups: Warm and Cool. Out of general spectrum of seven colors, Red, Orange and Yellow are taken as warm colors while; Blue, Purple, Turquoise and Green are considered as cool ones.

Red range of colors (red, orange, yellow) is viewed as active and exciting whereas, Blue range (blue, purple, turquoise, green) comes under the label of soothing and passive. Even physiological tests have affirmed the same idea by claiming that Red hues increase stimulate the autonomic nervous system and boost bodily tension as Cool hues act the other way round. An interesting study claims that babies cry more frequently in yellow rooms, weightlifters perform better in rooms painted blue, color consultants also claim that in colors used in certain environment can have impact on the emotions and performance of people living within.

One should not mix up the psychological, cultural, religious and political expression through colors since each scenario sees each color in a different way. Moreover, symbolic denotation is very much different from of the psychological one as symbolically, red for its illusive characteristic of appearing nearer than all other colors, is used to denote danger while in color psychology, yellow and black are used for the same purpose. Similar, is the case with green, denoting envy in many cultures symbolically, but associated with balance in color psychology.

Culturally different theories and ideologies are applied colors as various cultures make out colors differently; in South Asia, Green is associated with Islam, blue with Krishna( a powerful god of Hindu mythology), red is taken a symbol of purity while yellow stands for the status of Imperial Color. Whereas, in China red is associated with celebration and prosperity, white for mourning and death in contrary to black that is the most common color of mourning and death around the globe. In Europe colors are strongly bracketed together with political movements and parties, in European countries black is the color for Conservatism, brown is still associated with Nazis while, Socialism embraces red.

Although color psychology is relatively new area of scientific research as compare to the ancient Chinese, Egyptians and Indians who had strong belief in technique of healing with colors, chromo-therapy. Ancient Indians, in accordance with their chromo-therapy belief, have divided human body in seven energy circles, called "Chakras" in Sunskrit (ancient language of India) rendering each part to a certain color beginning from fore head to lower abdomen area. According to this division, first energy circle is situated at forehead, its color is purple, and therefore, purple color is useful in the treatment of ailments and pains related to this part of body.

Second energy circle or "Chakra" is located on face, just under the forehead and above the neck, the color for this part is blue, means the sense of smell, hear and see can be benefited by the blue color applications, either by wearing something blue or by shedding blue light to this area. Neck is the abode of third energy circle with turquoise hue specific to benefit all neck related problems and pains. Then comes the chest here lies the green colored energy circle, the most vital part of body with heart beating in it and under the ribcage delicacy of respiration system, green is considered to gain positively in all functions and health encaged in the ribcage.

With this the range of cool colors finishes, and starts the domain of warm hues, starting from yellow, comes the fifth energy circle in sequence, it determines the belly or upper abdomen, means all stomach and large intestine problems and pains can be relieved by applying the yellow. Orange is just lying next with lower abdomen area, collectively; yellow and orange circles help the digestive system and its related problems and pains. Next is the pubic area where genital, adrenal glands and kidneys with all sexual system is arranged by nature in a very multifaceted manner, here we find the energy circle with red color, red is the most popular color in general in India, after studying this ancient research on colors, I came to know about the reason behind the traditional red wedding dress of the bride, taken as compulsory in all parts of India.

This is a very fascinating partition of human body with reference to explicit colors, keep in mind that there is no energy circle or Chakra found in arms or legs as there is no imperative function or vital organ in these areas, therefore, we can say about this division of human body as very much based on today's modern physiology and anatomy. Apart from color therapy and color psychology, as they could be taken as more professional knowledge, colors add life in all walks, from hairstyle to dress, pair of glasses to shoes, pen to paper, guns to roses, colors are live everywhere. Mountains see their shades of gray, brown and green reflections in the lakes, intoxicate the seeing eye, clouds with tinges of black and gray, kiss the air warmly.

Flowers, leaves, birds and butterflies, present a pallet, compel the viewer to profound and enjoy the every impact of all these colors that can be seen, felt and absorbed.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (28 August 174922 March 1832) ,Renowned German Polymath said:

"...they maintained that shade is a part of light. It sounds absurd when I express it; but so it is: for they said that colors, which are shadow and the result of shade, are light itself, or, which amounts to the same thing, are the beams of light, broken now in one way, now in another." *Conversations with Eckermann, entry: Jan. 4, 1824; trans. Wallace Wood.

Willie Nelson At Red Rocks

2008-12-23T13:00:00.001-08:00

Writen by Linda Banks

Willie Nelson and his family band played another sold-out show at the Red Rocks Amphitheater at Morrison, Colorado, on September 3, 2006. It was another memorable concert by this masterful musician. Willie sounded great, and his guitar playing was stellar, as always. He came out in a plaid flannel shirt, and you just wanted to hug him. It's fun to see him at a show outside, when it's cool and he has to put on something long sleeved and cuddley.

Willie looked tired when he started out on Whiskey River. but I figured, he'd been riding in his bus for hours and hours from California, maybe played some golf along the way -- he had to be exhausted. He rolled into "Still is Still Moving" so smoothly, and then he just took off, and took us all with him. By the time he got to Bobby McGee, he was peeling off his flannel shirt , to the cheers of the women in the crowd, which drew a sweet shy smile from Willie.

Willie says Red Rocks is his favorite venue, and I gotta say he's Red Rocks' favorite, too. I could see Willie picking up on the fans' energy. It was a loving appreciative crowd, and many times Willie thanked us (while we were thanking him!), and saying, "I can hear you. Thank you." I love when he says he can hear us. At one point, he said, "Red Rocks you are the greatest." No Willie, you are the greatest.

Willie sang a song I haven't heard in a while, "Sweet Memories". It was so beautiful. And he sang his new song, "You Don't Think I'm Funny Anymore." It was such a crowd pleaser. It is a hit song already. Jody and Willie did a wonderful version of Pancho and Lefty, and the long guitar bridges, (is that the word), in "Me and Bobby McGee" just gave me goosebumps. No Working Man's Blues, but a very animated "Me and Paul."

Nitty Gritty Dirt Band opened, and their set was good. That was just about as much bluegrass as I like. They played some new stuff, some old favorites, like Mr. BoJangle, covered some Beach Boys and Beatles tunes, and threw in some traditional blue grass. John the banjo/violin/guitar player, is such an good musician and always so animated; it was a treat to watch him. Everyone in the band sings, so the drummer/harmonica player joined at the mic for several tunes, as did the keyboard player. They came out and joined Willie on Will the Circle Be Unbroken, which was very appropriate. Taylor Hicks, the American Idol guy, came on stage and sang with Willie and the Dirt Band. When he walked in the girl next to me yelled in my ear, "That's Taylor Hicks, the American Idol." But for me there was just one American Idol on the stage last night.

John Hickenlooper, Denver's Mayor was sitting in the VIP section. When I left I passed a dozen limos parked waiting for Willie fans, all decked out for a good time with Willie. There is something so magical being at Red Rocks,: the sun sets, the moon comes up, Willie comes on stage with the bright lights of Denver shining like diamonds behind him. Pure magic.