tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40037992011-05-13T13:00:27.467-07:00Methuselah's DaughterMusings of an immortal beingZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comBlogger1141100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1082270754924055182004-04-17T23:45:00.000-07:002004-04-17T23:49:50.030-07:00This site has moved
The new URL is http://www.3500years.comZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1070950992923541722003-12-08T22:23:00.000-08:002003-12-08T22:24:28.436-08:00There is no good way to bring anything to an end for any endeavor will always leave a gap, an emptiness, when it is concluded and put to rest. This journal is no exception. I noted before that I launched it in order to test the waters and that I had not found things entirely to my liking, but bringing this to an end is only somewhat related to that revelation. I did indeed desire to learn whatZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1070603990301989842003-12-04T21:59:00.000-08:002003-12-04T22:00:47.513-08:00Money is an odd thing. It is such a measure of power or worth, yet it is intrinsically nothing, particularly in the present day western world. The possession of monetary wealth is nothing more than a representation upon a digital ledger in some bank computer, yet it confers so much upon those who control it.
I am wealthy by any reasonable standard one might care to apply; yet I am powerless. Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1070256679691347062003-11-30T21:31:00.000-08:002003-11-30T21:32:11.340-08:00The desert offers solitude, and a simple mode of existence: mere survival. Granted this is a somewhat moot point for me, but it acts as further guarantor of my privacy, for the desert is both swift and merciless in its dealings with fools.
Modern society has effected sufficient intrusion that it attempts to protect those so unwise as to venture in to the desert unprepared. This is not an act Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1069823753031183632003-11-25T21:15:00.000-08:002003-11-25T21:16:38.170-08:00Some random notions that have come to the fore as a result of comments, events and other factors:
I am frequently surprised. One would think I should be beyond surprise, but one would be wrong. One would think I would be coolly in control of my emotions, having had so very long to come to an intimate understanding of my own inner landscape, but one would be wrong. One would think that Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1069501293510673432003-11-22T03:41:00.000-08:002003-11-22T03:42:29.200-08:00“I know who you are.”
I said nothing, allowing Edna’s quiet words hang in the air behind me as I gazed upon Catherine’s final resting place. Her marker was large, yet very simple- a granite spire, somewhat weathered as were all the stones in this corner of the cemetery, with just her name and the dates: b 1831 d 1896.
“She was only sixty-five. Even being wealthy and protected, the damned Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1069399339350626262003-11-20T23:22:00.000-08:002003-11-20T23:22:56.873-08:00Morning arrived clear and delightfully cool. I took an early stroll about the center of town before checking out and loading my things in to the car, and then I set off for Sarah’s home to pick up Edna. I was not particularly eager to make the visit to the cemetery, but it seemed a small courtesy to these people who had been so willing to accept me- call it recompense for my necessary Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1069105720010124082003-11-17T13:48:00.000-08:002003-11-17T13:54:23.060-08:00The town bore only a passing resemblance to what I remembered. The old church was still there- I wondered if people still worshipped in those same pews Mrs. Tremblay had gifted to the church so very long ago. When I had paid my visit to Jeremy’s grave more than a month before I had done no more than drive through- I had known then that the land was wrapped up in a dispute so I had come Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068974518241101402003-11-16T01:21:00.000-08:002003-11-16T03:25:08.216-08:00What follows was not easy to recount. I have alluded to such things before, but I have never been explicit, and even here I find myself forced to soften the words and the images. I nearly posted this elsewhere to keep it off of this site, but that would be inappropriate. If what follows offends or disturbs I can offer only that life often offends or disturbs. If it makes it any easier to Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068700357132084532003-11-12T21:12:00.000-08:002003-11-12T21:23:09.310-08:00This is proving to be quite vexing. I should put this behind me and think of it no more- let it lie as quietly as it has for a century or more, but it will not allow me to do that. Retrieval of the records was no mean feat itself: a company that specializes in the safe keeping of museum-quality historical documents stored them. One does not simply drive up and haul away cases of old records Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068612135555063702003-11-11T20:42:00.000-08:002003-11-11T20:42:40.920-08:00It could be worse.
More lawyers, then decisions must be made.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068439822949702972003-11-09T20:50:00.000-08:002003-11-09T23:49:05.576-08:00Jeremy betrayed me. He told me he had done it in a letter he wrote some few days before his death, but in that letter he made it clear he expected I would not learn of his act for some time:
“I know you, my love. I know this missive shall remain unread for decades, perhaps centuries. It is conceivable you might never read it, and never know what I have done, or why…”
He was correct on both Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068427837415523572003-11-09T17:30:00.000-08:002003-11-09T17:31:00.140-08:00On the naming of names, and the placing of places. As I go through my narratives I deliberately obscure certain facts. Jeremy, for instance, was not named Jeremy, Catherine was not Catherine, Rufus was not Rufus… I do believe the pattern is clear. Locations are obscured as well as specifics as to dates, particularly as I speak of relatively recent events. You may take this as an expression ofZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1068098949950299402003-11-05T22:09:00.000-08:002003-11-05T22:09:28.030-08:00Interesting (actually, somewhat disturbing) developments over the past two days. As a result I shall be wading through a sea of lawyers. Posting will be light to non-existent until some time next week. Do take care.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1067686220673552062003-11-01T03:30:00.000-08:002003-11-01T03:30:32.186-08:00Mr. E asks: can one argue the predisposition to love as being a more likely attestation of evolution or of creation?
You may argue whatever you like, but since you are asking my opinion the short answer is “no”.
I am afraid that I am about to disappoint a lot of people with my thoughts on this subject, as they are by no means original nor terribly unique.
It seems to me that the notion that Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1067578229598046352003-10-30T21:30:00.000-08:002003-10-30T21:30:39.466-08:00In response to Mr. E’s comment on a previous post:
If I were insane, how would I know? You and I could sit over coffee and have a nice chat and at the end of it you might be tempted to tell me you were fairly certain I was off my rocker, but would I be able to believe you? In my case I have lots of history to look back on and that gives me some perspective on myself. I can look back and say “Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1067315328065973442003-10-27T20:28:00.000-08:002003-10-27T20:29:51.856-08:00Well, this has certainly been an invigorating twenty-four hours or so. I must express my thanks to Dean Esmay for his kind words regarding my thoughts offered here- praise is always that much sweeter when it comes from one you respect. As for the readers he has sent to this humble site, I believe their comments speak for themselves. Quality shows, people. Of all the accusations hurled at me Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1067077980954125742003-10-25T03:33:00.000-07:002003-10-26T23:56:54.983-08:00I am so terribly sorry. I did promise no more politics until the new year, but that persnickety Dean Esmay has been posting things that make me go "hmmm." So, with that said:
These assorted assertions regarding lying to the public and the reflexive disdain for the current President are unusual only if one fails to take in to account the unique nature of the approaching election season. Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1066626876269529412003-10-19T22:14:00.000-07:002003-10-19T22:16:03.270-07:00Hmmm...
Firesprite.
What magical female creature are you? brought to you by Quizilla
I came across this quiz at Etherian's Island where I shall, in a bit of coincidental magic, be guest blogging for the next few days, along with others.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1066617040889865502003-10-19T19:30:00.000-07:002003-10-19T19:30:40.693-07:00I need to say something, to explain something, but I find myself reluctant. No matter how many attempts I make at putting this in to written words it comes out as somewhat arrogant and condescending. Would that I could meet with every reader who happens across this journal, sit down and explain in person- that is my personal strength. I can communicate with a gesture what I cannot describe in Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1066105622276722292003-10-13T21:27:00.000-07:002003-10-13T23:12:05.500-07:00The bottle sounded against the rim of my glass, a single clear ping, and then gurgled quietly as I poured. I took up the glass and brought it to my lips, tilting it back to let the clear brown liquid burn down my throat and in to my belly.
“What’s with you and whiskey?”
I turned to face Gregory and found him sitting on the bed wearing his boxers. He is young, just twenty-one, barely Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065946365484573372003-10-12T01:12:00.000-07:002003-10-12T01:12:45.543-07:00I have been dreaming of late, dreaming of the sea.
I have a confession to make. Nothing earth shattering or terribly revealing, just a quirk… or perhaps more correctly a phobia: the sea terrifies me. It is not a fear of water, for swimming pools and lakes offer no problem, nor does swimming at the seashore, rather it is the open sea that contains horrors for me.
There are easy theories as toZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065754053825102222003-10-09T19:47:00.000-07:002003-10-09T19:47:33.363-07:00E-mail seems to be working again, though Hushmail still has their disclaimer up. I have received two messages today, though not from Loren or the Yeti. As I noted a few moments ago- you get what you pay for.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065592241133160002003-10-07T22:50:00.000-07:002003-10-07T22:50:40.623-07:00I am slipping in to insanity. I can feel it stealing up behind me, stray thoughts and desires, those things that make up the normal background chatter of an active mind are beginning to press their way to the fore. Irrational urges I am unable to ignore. The other day a realization that a young man had made a habit of admiring me as I took my morning latte mushroomed in to a ruthless seductionZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065433138267379532003-10-06T02:38:00.000-07:002003-10-06T21:39:31.323-07:00I encountered a new blog yesterday, and I find it quite intriguing. He moves me, deeply, because his writing is so intensely personal. Go visit The Beast.
UPDATE:
Having had time to review everything I do believe I have been timid in my recommendation. Allow me to redress that now: Travis seems to be unwittingly engaged in the task of defining the art of being Man. That his words are so Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065346372117631462003-10-05T02:32:00.000-07:002003-10-05T02:32:53.550-07:00Somebody who shall remain nameless insisted I take this personality test(Be aware that this site repeatedly asks you to install various not-so-friendly plugins- ignore them). These are rather difficult for me as I generally approach tests of any kind with the intent to obtain a specific outcome. Furthermore, several of the questions either provided no method for me to reply truthfully (Age Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065319823160700622003-10-04T19:10:00.000-07:002003-10-04T19:10:41.470-07:00Regarding Love, Hope and the nature of Man. What follows is a synthesis of two letters which are my end of an on-going correspondence with another blogger, whom I quote here only briefly as I never requested his permission to post his letters entire.
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It pains me to think that my tales here might be cause for consternation amongst others- I have always assumed that I would be taken Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1065041456881460912003-10-01T13:50:00.000-07:002003-10-01T13:50:57.136-07:00I said no more politics until January; however, I did not write this, so I did not actually break my promise. Besides, he invokes Mark Twain, and I dearly love Twain's work.
Bill Whittle writes regarding Power.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1064867529142464732003-09-29T13:32:00.000-07:002003-09-29T16:32:43.066-07:00Who was Jeremy? Why did I love him? Why is he such a powerful presence in my life? Why am I so inadequate to the task of describing him?
Jeremy was the eldest son and expected to take on his father’s law practice. There were his younger brother Reginald, and Catherine, the youngest of the three. There were two more siblings, but in the cold mortal calculus of the age they did not survive Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1064559208641883882003-09-25T23:53:00.000-07:002003-09-25T23:53:28.090-07:00Why would I allow myself to love? For me love is both a selfish indulgence and an invitation to despair. It is destructive to the object of my affections, for if they return my love they make themselves a part of a relationship that will can only leave them childless and in their grave. One could cogently opine that for me to allow anyone to love me borders upon naked criminality.
In very Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1064456803483211292003-09-24T19:26:00.000-07:002003-09-25T16:51:48.063-07:00Comments are up again.
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1064292187096978712003-09-22T21:43:00.000-07:002003-09-22T21:43:06.836-07:00Awakening. Imagine you have slept with your arm under your body, squeezing off the circulation so that the limb is completely insensate. You roll off your arm and it flops free- you can feel the circulation returning, fresh blood rushing in as your arm returns to life in a tingling rush, sometimes quite painfully, stinging as if infinite pinpricks were assaulting you.
The first awareness is Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1064036428000664072003-09-19T22:40:00.000-07:002003-09-19T22:40:27.593-07:00We were riding together. It was the spring of our second year and the house was rebuilt, the children were as settled and adjusted as anyone could expect and we finally had some time to devote to ourselves. No genteel traveling for us, instead we packed up what we needed and struck out on our own, determined to put as much distance between civilization and ourselves as we could for the next tenZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063967556874140732003-09-19T03:32:00.000-07:002003-09-19T03:32:36.643-07:00“I have been wondering, is there anything you cannot do?”
I lifted my eyes from my book and smiled at my husband, “Whatever are you talking about?”
“Mrs. Trembley. A woman who could not bring herself to offer a civil hello to the new Pastor for three years invites you to join her for Sunday Tea after only six months,” he settled in to his chair by the fireplace and stretched his hands towards Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063878245694906022003-09-18T02:44:00.000-07:002003-09-18T02:44:05.310-07:00How do you tell somebody you love that you are not what you seem to be? How do you tell anyone that you are immortal?
I met Jeremy in California in 1829. We journeyed together across what was then northern Mexico, pretending to be an Irish couple to avoid problems with what few local authorities we encountered. Most of the land was wide open then and we managed to avoid the natives, who were Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063595410562731512003-09-14T20:10:00.000-07:002003-09-14T20:10:10.550-07:00Greetings to those who found their way here from Dean's World. I am afraid that my political commentary has been sparse of late, but please do take a moment to browse.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063435379739443342003-09-12T23:42:00.000-07:002003-09-12T23:42:59.630-07:00I made a brief visit to Boston where a certain Safe Deposit Box contains certain things of little value to anyone but myself. From that box I retrieved a Diary, and a letter. Both are quite old, but the script on the diary is still familiar. I can remember the first line without looking:
“I am most insanely foolish to keep a reckoning such as this, but my Jeremy insists, and I shall deny him Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063254804230688832003-09-11T01:00:00.000-07:002003-09-11T09:47:59.510-07:00September 11, 2001
I tend towards the emotionless when it comes to world-changing events. I was watching on television the morning of September 11, 2001, at a fitness center of all things. The news had cut to the story of a plane colliding with one of the towers while I was listening to some very well educated and very well meaning woman moan on about how horrible things were going to be underZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063092262072098652003-09-09T00:24:00.000-07:002003-09-09T00:25:55.153-07:00No more politics until January. I promise. The pain is too deep.
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1063092031308756742003-09-09T00:20:00.000-07:002003-09-09T00:20:31.290-07:00Only fools expect that good deeds exact no cost.
Americans must recognise such costs, and count them in the pantheon of Nike. Should you fail to comprehend, the loss is surely yours. Embrace your Heroes. In the end, what else have you? Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1062896549330826342003-09-06T18:02:00.000-07:002003-09-06T18:02:29.183-07:00I have been a good girl. I have avoided politics and world events for some time now, concentrating on what I most desired to write when I started this site. Still, there have been some tentative questions sent my way from those who found this site when I was initially dealing with the upcoming war in Iraq, and it has been a while, so…
Handicapping an American Presidential election more than a Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1062410625173597772003-09-01T03:03:00.000-07:002003-09-01T03:03:45.183-07:00Awareness is an odd thing. One is tempted at all times to draw a fine, bright line between the time when there was no awareness, and the time where there was. Unfortunately, awareness is seldom so neatly defined. Even in the most extreme cases, there is a disconnect between when reality reveals itself and the mind recognizes and accepts that reality. Think of the crash victim who recalls the Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1062290591938505472003-08-30T17:43:00.000-07:002003-08-30T17:43:11.940-07:00A conversation between Loren and me:
I have allowed Loren’s words to stand uncommented upon by myself for a pair of days, waiting to see if anyone else had something to say. The silence is deafening, but not entirely surprising. In the end, this is my forum and hence the responsibility for all posted on the open pages is mine and mine alone, as is any obligation for response.
I must admit Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1062048447392504932003-08-27T22:27:00.000-07:002003-08-30T17:25:46.223-07:00My new email address is available at the right. My thanks to Isabella for the suggestion. Hushmail has problems, particularly the plug-in they always insist on installing, but it is workable for my purposes.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1062039868903602832003-08-27T20:04:00.000-07:002003-08-27T20:04:28.866-07:00The following is a letter from Loren, whom I have mentioned tangentially in previous entries. He and I have carried out an interesting, though somewhat one-sided of late, correspondence regarding who and what I am. We are wary of each other and he has requested that I respect his wishes not to have his true name or e-mail address posted. Regarding his true name, I am certain I do not possess Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1061868162002804152003-08-25T20:22:00.000-07:002003-08-25T20:22:41.970-07:00I am flattered when anyone takes the time to speculate rationally regarding the nature of my existence, particularly when one goes to the lengths The Yeti obviously did in his missive to me. That having been said, I hope he does not take what I have to say about it as dismissive or disrespectful.
I have several problems with the theoretical premise and it begins in the very first paragraph. Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1061711663533495082003-08-24T00:54:00.000-07:002003-08-24T00:55:04.673-07:00The Yeti writes, offering the following theories and speculations. The links are my own, just to provide some background. I have comments to make; however, I will offer them seperately.
Man's ancestor apes are now placed at a staggering 25 million years ago. Hominids appeared about 14 million years ago. 3 million years created the first Homo species, followed by Australopithecus. 1,000,000 Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1061683500255660262003-08-23T17:05:00.000-07:002003-08-23T17:05:00.236-07:00Let us assume it is late spring. Morning comes before the sun is above the horizon. Usually the adults rise first; however, in short order the children are up as well. Breakfast is simple and seldom hot- bread, fruit or nuts, dried meat (jerky, if you prefer) if there is any about and perhaps the milk of goats or cows, depending on the time and location. It is a quick meal for there is work Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1061635797693724012003-08-23T03:49:00.000-07:002003-08-23T03:49:57.560-07:00Just to restate, since I have received a number of inquiries:
I have no secure channel for outgoing mail at this time. It has nothing to do with being “hacked” or any such thing; rather I lost use of the machine I used to send mail. I am naturally quite paranoid regarding my privacy, and until I can parse through the arcana of mixmasters or find some other suitable alternative, I will refrain Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1061253290677738762003-08-18T17:34:00.000-07:002003-08-18T17:34:50.703-07:00In the end the crisis point of my latest little misadventure stole up behind me on quiet feline feet. Several days had passed without any activity, meaning that none of my few very modest “monitors” had detected any action regarding inquiries in to my name, or my finances or my history. So of course early Saturday afternoon my doorbell buzzed.
I regarded the intercom for a full minute, fully Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1060571211294873732003-08-10T20:06:00.000-07:002003-08-10T20:06:51.263-07:00Fate smiled upon me: the bus was preparing to pull out and I caught it just in time. Even then I was soaked to the skin from the downpour. The weather fit my mood perfectly as I took a seat in the back to wait for my stop and attempt to sort out what had just happened. I wanted to believe I had not seen what I had in William’s eyes, but I am far, far too old to deliberately deceive myself.
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-106041413884201682003-08-09T00:28:00.000-07:002003-08-09T00:36:20.660-07:00It was a chance encounter, all the more unnerving for that. I was at a mall shopping for some replacement items for my wardrobe. Since returning from Colorado I had been feeling an urge to make a change in my daily attire and I finally decided to indulge it. As it was well past dinnertime I decided that I could stop for a bite at one of the restaurants just off the food court. I am not Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1060055905969175092003-08-04T20:58:00.000-07:002003-08-04T20:58:25.743-07:00What destiny awaits mankind? This is a question that often occupies my mind and I can see no purpose to avoiding it.
Destiny and spirituality seem to be linked for most people. If one contemplates fate, one is often drawn to further consideration of the nature of God, or the problematic existence of any deity or deities. I have commented upon this before and I restate here that I fall firmly Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1060002238691863062003-08-04T06:03:00.000-07:002003-08-04T06:03:58.656-07:00Minor administrative toothache: my outgoing channel for e-mail has been compromised. (Compromised. Sounds so mysterious, yes?) This means that while I can read e-mail I cannot securely send it for the foreseeable future. Those several people who regularly e-mail me: I have received your messages, but private replies will not be forthcoming. My apologies.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1059535968929655142003-07-29T20:32:00.000-07:002003-07-29T20:32:48.840-07:00Etherian asked me about loneliness. It defines my life, but not in the way one might think. Early on, after I came to understand what I was, every dislocation was wrenching and death came to take on an aura of a prize that I had been deliberately denied. I have never had children, but I raised many and to have to leave them… to this day that is the single most difficult act I have ever Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1059352157820088312003-07-27T17:29:00.000-07:002003-07-27T17:29:17.793-07:00I am not an easy person to like, at least not for the past three hundred years or so. I spent the vast majority of my time hiding or as an add-on to somebody else’s life- it was a habit, and an excruciatingly difficult one to break. I do not believe you the reader can fully grasp the enormity of the challenges I faced when the need to re-establish myself in a new life forced itself upon me. Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1058606883474205452003-07-19T02:28:00.000-07:002003-07-19T02:33:13.183-07:00E-mail from John at Weekend Pundit:
I’ve enjoyed all the speculation and “what-if’s” proposed by other readers that you’ve been posting lately and your responses seem geared to making everybody take a kind of laid back attitude. You seem to be in some sort of “whatever” mode regarding what you might be. In particular I liked the Yeti’s comment that perhaps you were some sort of “key”. So far Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1058419737520237082003-07-16T22:28:00.000-07:002003-07-16T22:28:57.420-07:00The bath was finally ready, the water heated with stones from the fire until it was just shy of painfully hot, and scented with the oils of flowers. The rising steam was fragrant as a garden in spring- Rufus would be pleased. For such a hard man he had an abiding love for nature and things of beauty. He surrounded himself with art and exquisitely crafted wooden and stone furnishings, as well Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1058060182131388712003-07-12T18:36:00.000-07:002003-07-12T18:37:01.436-07:00Joe Bowers offers the following:
Eu li apenas sua resposta a Yeti em seu blog. Eu suponho-o acredito que h? alguns para fora l? do esse o acredita. Quando você diz que somente a lata m? vem deste blog, eu n?o sigo completamente. Eu sou certo que se você sentir ameaçado, a coisa l?gica seria abandonar apenas o blog, paro de escrever. I, para um, faltaria realmente suas entradas, mas você deve Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057982171831453622003-07-11T20:56:00.000-07:002003-07-11T20:56:11.616-07:00Comments from The Yeti, and my responses:
On your peculiar regenerative condition.
It indeed sounds like you do not die, but rather consume fuel, which would not make you human. You could perhaps be an intelligence inhabiting a human form that was reduced to a simple parasitic state in the distant past. It would explain your comments on how you thought you were rather stupid when you first Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057635045487019452003-07-07T20:30:00.000-07:002003-07-07T20:32:36.560-07:00Acidman asked 25 questions. I heasitated, then chose to answer as best I could.
1. Do you have a personal hero? If so, who is it?
My first real husband. He was a farmer and a father of five when we met and he devoted every moment of his life to making his little corner of the world a better place for his children. He married me to fill the void left by his late wife and never stopped showingZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057394523391736192003-07-05T01:42:00.000-07:002003-07-05T01:42:03.396-07:00More e-mail from Joe Bowers, whom I have mentioned before. He touches on some topics that I have been reluctant to speak to:
Do you keep friends that are ignorant of what you are? Telling untruths to hide your nature? Destined to leave them after a decade (or a little more) and never to meet them again? That has to be hard on you, not being able to get close to anyone, not having something Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057384279961753022003-07-04T22:51:00.000-07:002003-07-04T22:51:19.950-07:00It is time to update the blogroll. Generally I will link to anyone who links to me so long as I find his or her site interesting. Fortunately for most people my tastes are broad and I enjoy topics from domestic realities to engineering to politics and beyond.
I did finally remove Glenn Reynolds since it seemed somewhat pointless to include him. I rest easy with that choice, confident that Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057304066847719452003-07-04T00:34:00.000-07:002003-07-04T00:34:26.766-07:00The last two posts were supposed to be a single entry, but suddenly Blogger's new and improved tool dislikes large posts. I would complain, were it not a free service.
As always, one gets what one pays for:).
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057303962994181132003-07-04T00:32:00.000-07:002003-07-04T20:21:42.426-07:00Part 2
“Think she’s got any jewelry on ‘er?” Lester asked. I felt the hands reach for my arms and I let him pull them forward, then opened my eyes and drew a loud rasping breath through my ruined throat as I cocked the pistol an put the barrel firmly against Lester’s forehead.
For a full second, two seconds, the tableau was frozen. Lester’s eyes went wide and Zed froze. Even in the moonlit Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057303719272141192003-07-04T00:28:00.000-07:002003-07-04T20:21:59.693-07:00Part 1
Warm, dark and quiet- I could hear the slow rhythm of the beating of my heart, hypnotic in its promise of new sunrises to be seen. Awareness came upon me slowly, stealing up on quiet paws to slowly, carefully prod me back towards understanding. Finally I took in a slow, ragged breath, my chest relaxing as air finally streamed in to my lungs. Oxygen invigorates me and I was finally Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-1057033168233702372003-06-30T21:19:00.000-07:002003-06-30T21:19:28.203-07:00Having studiously avoided commentary on world affairs for some time I feel it is proper to weigh in briefly on the situation in the Middle East in general, and Iraq in particular.
The current situation in Iraq comes as no surprise to anyone who takes a realistic view of the challenges ahead. While the military victory was a foregone conclusion there is no one of any note who believed that once Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-960061442003-06-24T22:35:00.000-07:002003-06-24T22:40:52.000-07:00“They gonna’ hang you, Missy Burns!”
The pastor looked up from his bible with a pained expression, but I simply smiled. “Give me just a moment, pastor.” I stood and stepped up on to my seat so I could see out the barred window in to the alleyway. There at the end was Timothy, all twelve years and 90 pounds of him, looking all bedraggled, yet grinning like a Prince counting his horde.
“Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-956526902003-06-13T22:00:00.000-07:002003-06-13T22:00:49.813-07:00Joe continues our dialogue by posing some questions:
With the information age, I suspect that assuming a new identity will become more difficult-
Indeed. In particular the recent unpleasantness with regards to the reactionary Islamists has made travel more problematic. I am entertaining the possibility of relocating to a less technology-pervasive locale, but I am relatively proof for the nearZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-951609722003-06-01T12:19:00.000-07:002003-06-01T12:19:23.730-07:00Joe comments again, asking about Comte Saint-Germain, a name I have heard more than once. At the time of his influence I was living in the North American colonies, but I was aware of him. My take on him is that he was a fascinating and eccentric man living in a time and circumstance when those about him were exceptionally prone to wild theorizing. The European aristocracy of the time was… Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-951076312003-05-30T20:40:00.000-07:002003-05-30T20:40:39.990-07:00Joe Bowers asks a very reasonable question in the comments to my previous entry:
I happened across your post; you have some interesting tales. Have you "ran across" others of your kind?
The short answer is “no”.
I need to clarify a number of issues:
My early life is a mystery to me as I came to consciousness in the lodge of Gtochk after having been taken as loot in a raid on a band of Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-948087022003-05-23T17:35:00.000-07:002003-05-23T18:20:53.000-07:00I am not a terribly spiritual individual and I suspect that is a natural consequence of my unnatural condition. After reading some of the more methodical and non-proselytizing descriptions of atheism I find myself forced to admit that I am not an atheist, either. It is not that I believe in a God or assorted gods which hold supernatural sway over the events, debacles and progress of humanity, Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-947026582003-05-21T13:37:00.000-07:002003-05-21T13:37:18.400-07:00It seems that I may yet have both the time and the inclination to begin posting againZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-927712032003-04-17T04:03:00.000-07:002003-04-17T04:03:45.496-07:00Twenty-three days, give or take. The inevitable disorder that follows any invasion is the current focus of many in the hand-wringing crowd at this time, and in a small way they are doing good service by keeping some public focus on that issue. It is not that I believe the Coalition would not restore order as soon as possible, but that the media might be inclined to stop noticing before that Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-922932032003-04-09T07:55:00.000-07:002003-04-09T07:56:18.000-07:00It was not that people did not feel the War was real, rather the War was news of far-off battles, exhortations by hotheads in meeting halls and preachers from pulpits, young men now gone to fight; with the elderly, the children and the womenfolk left to carry on. It was hard on everyone, as society seemed to slowly disintegrate. Not a huge collapse, just the realization that today was not so Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-918604262003-04-02T11:14:00.000-08:002003-04-02T11:14:58.840-08:00Time for another view of developments in the Iraq campaign. I note that the general American public seems to be reacting to events with a degree of sophistication that the modern media usually assumes them incapable of. There are lessons to be learned there.
I noted last week that it is very difficult to form a coherent opinion or sense of what is happening based on the hourly reports of the Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-915113232003-03-27T16:06:00.000-08:002003-03-27T16:08:12.000-08:00What constitutes mercy? Under what circumstances does mercy become an ill-afforded luxury? Is there intrinsic value in sacrificing soldiers in order to retain a moral imperative? Does that value persist if exercising mercy may prolong the combat and prevent an immediate peaceable solution, post conflict? These two posts on Weekend Pundit and The Truth Laid Bear have turned my thoughts to thisZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-912908722003-03-24T10:01:00.000-08:002003-03-25T04:37:41.000-08:00Steven Den Beste recently suggested guidelines for reacting to news reports on the war:
For any of the following reports, allow at least six hours before you even begin to take them seriously:
Any report of a Scud
The first three reports of mass casualties by anyone
For these, wait 12 hours:
Any report of an attack against a city outside of Iraq
Any report of use of chemical weapons
The Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-911669032003-03-21T21:51:00.000-08:002003-03-22T06:34:49.000-08:00In the end, I suspect the truly definitive question regarding the War on Iraq will revolve around the Turkish invasion and the US response to it. I have sent out questions to several trusted correspondents and bloggers requesting input. Nonetheless, my feeling is that this will define the ultimate outcome of the current hostilities. Will the United States of America and her Allies prevent the Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-909597342003-03-18T17:26:00.000-08:002003-03-18T17:27:59.000-08:00I remember the drums. Sometimes they were actual percussion instruments, beating out a rhythmic call to arms. Others were more metaphorical, shouted out from criers, or pulpits, or newspapers, but always- drums. War is an entirely human enterprise and it serves a valuable function in a purely Darwinian sense: both individually and in summation it weeds out the weak, the defective, and the Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-907445442003-03-14T19:14:00.000-08:002003-03-14T19:14:54.513-08:00The rolling and tumbling tore me from frigid oblivion and I gagged as seawater sprayed from my throat, burning in my sinuses. Again the waves tossed me against hard sand and this time my hands dug in, holding me against the backwash as water retreated from the beach. Sick, trembling I pulled myself up the beach, my hands still bound with slimy, rotting leather cords. Each pull of my arms drew Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-904687722003-03-10T10:16:00.000-08:002003-03-10T10:16:59.403-08:00I have noted several times that I dislike the concentration on politics that has overtaken this project nearly from its opening day. After posting earlier today I found myself decidedly displeased with myself for having dipped in to the well of such commentary yet again.
It is not that I feel political discourse is beneath me, or unseemly, rather it is that I cannot believe that there is any Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-904617412003-03-10T08:00:00.000-08:002003-03-10T08:02:27.000-08:00I am not a terribly political animal, despite the apparent leanings of my writings to this point. It is the times, I suppose. Now I find myself considering what the post-UN world will look like. I still suspect that the United States and the United Kingdom have some hope of prevailing in the UNSC; however, such a development would in my opinion merely serve to postpone the inevitable. As I Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-902361652003-03-06T05:31:00.000-08:002003-03-06T09:22:30.000-08:00There is a thought I have run across once or twice in the past several months that seems to be missing from the general debate regarding the upcoming war to remove the current Ba’athist regime in Iraq. This is simultaneously disturbing and understandable. Disturbing in that it appears rather simple and straightforward to me. Understandable because where politics are concerned western peoples Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-899399262003-02-28T20:56:00.000-08:002003-02-28T20:56:33.483-08:00I know it is a modern sin, but I absolutely love to smoke. I love the taste, the way a cigarette’s aroma permeates my lungs, the chemical/sexual thrill of nicotine’s grasp as it envelops my sympathetic nervous system. The slow, subtle arousal of both the body and the mind, combined with the relaxation of the muscles, the suppression of anxieties. It is delicious and decadent and absolutely oneZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-898710582003-02-27T16:54:00.000-08:002003-02-28T08:07:42.000-08:00It is beginning to look as if the western governments have come to the understanding that the United States and the United Kingdom are deadly serious regarding Iraq. While nothing is ever finished until the votes are counted it appears that the French were not quite as prepared to sunder the United Nations as I had posited earlier. In particular I believe it was the recalcitrance of the VilniusZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-898361852003-02-27T05:36:00.000-08:002003-02-27T05:36:49.093-08:00My apologies to anyone who has attempted to leave comments over the past several days. The good people at Haloscan are having a devil of a time with "packet loss" and the like. I stand by them in their time of duress.Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-897441932003-02-25T16:46:00.000-08:002003-02-25T16:46:14.653-08:00So, what will happen now? I do enjoy a mystery, but this hardly qualifies: why do so many have a hard time understand that the President of the United States was absolutely sober and deadly serious when he told the world that should the United Nations fail to fulfill its obligations the US and her allies would go on without it?
Many appear confused by the ongoing efforts in the UN Security Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-895343372003-02-21T20:02:00.000-08:002003-02-21T20:02:06.523-08:00It began with dreams. Every night, dreams of doom spreading over the land, darkening skies, spreading panic. At this point in my life I had stopped dreaming the way others do- dreams mean that at some subconscious level I have made a connection that my conscious mind has yet to grasp. Of course I did not think in those terms at that time, still I understood the mechanism. It had served me Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-893223482003-02-18T11:34:00.000-08:002003-02-18T11:34:13.620-08:00More politics, if I do ever become truly depressed it will be from the constant need to revisit this topic.
The French are beginning to be subjected to the negative feedback inherent in any bold move upon the geopolitical front. I find it difficult to accept that Mssr. Chirac believed there would be no reaction against his posture by other nations in Europe; however, his current string of Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-891048922003-02-14T10:54:00.000-08:002003-02-15T20:49:04.000-08:00I am generally able to avoid fits of depression- when I am taken by a mood it is usually more a mania than a melancholy. Still it can be very, very hard to remain blissfully optimistic and truth to be told it is likely quite unhealthy. I have noted before that it is important to take a view from a different perspective from time to time as a sort of reality check (this from a writer who Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-890352192003-02-13T07:20:00.000-08:002003-02-13T08:04:45.000-08:00This was simply delightful to read.
I would take issue with certain points, but they would be minor. Kvetching as a comment in a previous post put it. The author manages to wrap up American anger and the angst of the anti-war movement in a neat package lacking any kind of acrimonious or disparaging language. No small feat, given the current climate.
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-889446732003-02-11T17:24:00.000-08:002003-02-11T17:48:07.000-08:00I am neither a fan nor a foe of the French though their political maneuvers over the past few weeks have done nothing to endear that nation to me; however, it is incumbent upon any person who seeks to comment on politics and current events to step back and take a long, dispassionate look at what is happening.
I believe the case can be made that the major sin of the French government is that it Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-888811082003-02-10T16:36:00.000-08:002003-02-10T16:36:57.056-08:00Looking over the displeasure on display over the past weekend reminds me of why I usually stay clear of day-to-day politics: my viewpoint is too far-reaching to make sense to most people. The impulse (which I indulged in the other day) is to react to every occurrence and shift in the political winds; however, this is ultimately pointless. It is somewhat unlikely that history will look back on Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-888093952003-02-09T11:43:00.000-08:002003-02-09T11:43:23.370-08:00People certainly do become excited when something unexpected appears on the horizon. In this case it is the prospect of the reported Franco-German proposal for occupation of Iraq by a force of several thousand UN troops supporting 300 or more weapons inspectors.
Forgive me my failure to be impressed. I do think it is a positive sign that the French have chosen to make a somewhat bold move in Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-887237632003-02-07T12:53:00.000-08:002003-02-07T12:53:02.026-08:00I owe a thank-you to Mr. Hendrix of Cold Fury fame for the link and his kind words.
Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-886028432003-02-05T10:59:00.000-08:002003-02-05T10:59:38.733-08:00I grow increasingly weary of the war debate, politics is not my forte; however, it is much on the minds of many people, and particularly of those whom I call friends. So many seem fixated upon the narrow topics of oil, Iraqi support for terror and the desire to liberate the Iraqi people from an admittedly terrible tyranny. These are all individually valid concerns and when one takes the time toZsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-883934362003-02-01T14:04:00.000-08:002003-02-01T14:05:40.000-08:00I have nothing to say regarding the Columbia tragedy that would not sound cold and heartless. I tend to be dispassionate about such things, and there will be an appropriate time for such discourse. Just not today, not now. Instead, I will link to this from the Weekend Pundit. He was the first to ever see this weblog, the first to comment and the first to provide a link, so I will return the Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-881683952003-01-28T10:50:00.000-08:002003-01-28T10:50:55.173-08:00I went shopping yesterday, a normal exercise for me and anyone else who enjoys eating on a semi-regular basis. Today the bakery next to the local supermarket was baking Swedish coffee bread and the scent hit me with extraordinary force. Suddenly I was nearly incapacitated with sadness, to the point where I had to stop and sit (fortunately there was a bench) and spend several minutes composing Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4003799.post-879759742003-01-24T13:23:00.000-08:002003-01-24T16:37:30.000-08:00A Mr. Green has written that the poor performance of France in the current unpleasantness stirring up the Middle East is largely a creation of American largess beginning with World War II. I have to admit that I never looked at it in this light; however, on reflection I find the idea is nothing new. It seems to me that this is part and parcel of the evolution of western liberalism. Remember, Zsallia Mariekohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06665965685213193025noreply@blogger.com