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the last photo i will post from Montana. this might look familiar, since it's taken in practically the same spot as (and mere minutes after) this.
i generally pride myself for being pretty fearless. i like to think i enjoy taking risks and live for living life to the full. but for some reason (i don't know if it was the several hundred-foot drop in front of me, or the crumbly, slanted rocks i was sitting on), the universe chose this moment to introduce me to acrophobia. i kept running through all the worst possible scenarios in my head--what if i fell and caught onto that bush only to uproot it and drag it off the cliff with me...? my legs were shaking uncontrollably, which didn't really help me feel confident about climbing around.
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London, UK
Someone asked me if the title 'Stranger' really applies to me anymore. Thing is - stranger, to me, is not about the inability to connect; instead it is a somewhat discrete state of my being that I do not fully comprehend, yet get moved by intensely, often uncontrollably. The world is spinning out of familiar territory for the boy who never wanted much. As the land shifts rapidly in the promise of a better tomorrow, he tries to cling on to a few things that he values to be truly his own. No matter how fast the pace of life gets- he still wanders about, gets lost and looks on with a bemused stare. In a little corner of his heart he will always be a bit of a stranger in this strange world.
This series of photographs taken on approach to Melbourne Airport is accompanied by Muzak from the 1970s. Those old enough to remember will recall that airlines used to play "soothing" Muzak to calm nervous travellers when preparing to land.
"Rocker Ted Nugent used Muzak as an icon of everything 'uncool' about music. In 1986, he publicly made a $10 million bid to purchase the company with the stated intent of shutting it down. 'Muzak is an evil force in today's society, causing people to lapse into uncontrollable fits of blandness,' Nugent said. 'It's been responsible for ruining some of the best minds of our generation.'"
All photographs here were taken with the Leica D-Lux 7.
February 5, 2011.
Hair idea inspired by this.
Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands? ~Ernest Gaines
Transgender symbol; a combination of the male and female sign with a third, combined arm representing transgender people.
Rainbow: different colors symbolize diversity in the gay community
I messed it up a little because I didn't realize it would be so complicated!
I am straight, but I believe everybody should have equal rights.
How can you define emotions in categorised genders?
No one gets to control who they fall in love with.
And since it is uncontrollable then no one has the right to determine that what they are doing is wrong.
What you may consider 'unnatural' is your own personal opinion.
And anyway, since when did you decide to be straight?
You didn't. It was just the way it is.
Of course, this is my own opinion as well which I am not going to force upon anyone.
But it doesn't mean that the discrimination should continue.
No one deserves to be discriminated against because of their sexual preferences.
You see people, afraid to come out because of one thing only.
Prejudice against them and a fear of being shunned and rejected by society.
You see people, especially teenagers, committing suicide due to continuous relentless bullying just because of their sexuality.
Don't you find it disappointing that the world you live in even has this kind of ugly treatment?
Why is it so hard to just accept people for who they are?
Hotel Tontine. Greenock Scotland
The Tontine Hotel was built around 1805 when Greenock was expanding rapidly to the west of Nelson Street. Since being ‘settled’ around 1680 Greenock had grown rapidly but uncontrollably so the town planners decided that the planning control should be much stricte
The town council decided that Greenock should grow to the west but in a planned manner in pleasant ‘tree lined avenues’.The Tontine was one of the buildings in this area (albeit at a later date).
Argowan Square had many architectural features typical of the time: buildings which although were originally built as grand houses but later were used for other purposes such as:The Mansion House originally a town house for the Shaw Stewarts – an influential Greenock family. Now a series of offices.
The Greenock Club:
Now a private school.
Other houses:
Now offices for solicitors.
Interestingly the Statistical Account of Greenock published in 1840 did not list the Tontine in a summary of ‘modern buildings requiringto be noted under the head of Civil History’.By comparison it does mention the adjacent Mansion House, the new Town Hall in Cathcart Square, the Jail and the Sheriff court in Nelson Street. Amazingly it did list the Tontine in another list with the qualification ‘it does not appear to be necessary to mention particularly the erection of the Exchange Buildings, and Assembly Rooms; of the Tontine; the News-room in Cathcart Square and other public buildings of minor importance.
The ground floor is linked in plain ashlar quadrants to single storey pavilion wings.The upper floors of the main block have architraived windows pedimented over a minimally designed three bay centre with a Greek fret frieze.
In 1892 the proprietor of the original Tontine Hotel in Cathcart Street moved to Ardgowan Square maintaining the original name started trading from Robertson House (presumably with Robertson’s permission!). Some years later a glazed square porch was added which concealed the original door piece.
Subsequent developments over the years included a large multi storey expansion at the rear but which had minimal effect on the original attractive facade.
ENGLISH:
Here I am on my way to a conservation meeting with my tame wild boar Willy.
God created the world wonderfully, which is why I am committed to ensuring that we humans honor God and protect his creation. Unfortunately, we are in the process of destroying the world. Humanity is using up more and more resources and is throwing the world out of balance. That is why we must reduce our footprint. That can only work if we stop reproducing so uncontrollably. The number of people equals the number of problems.
Representation in scale 1/87 (H0).
ESPAÑOL:
Ángela, conservacionista
Aquí estoy de camino a una reunión de conservación con mi jabalí domesticado Willy.
Dios creó el mundo maravillosamente, por eso me comprometo a garantizar que los humanos honremos a Dios y protejamos su creación. Desafortunadamente, estamos en el proceso de destruir el mundo. La humanidad está consumiendo cada vez más recursos y está desequilibrando el mundo. Por eso debemos reducir nuestra huella. Eso sólo puede funcionar si dejamos de reproducirnos de manera tan incontrolable. El número de personas es igual al número de problemas.
Representación a escala 1:87 (H0).
DEUTSCH:
Angela, Naturschützerin
Hier bin ich mit meinem zahmen Wildschweineber Willy unterwegs zu einer Naturschutzversammlung.
Gott hat die Welt wunderbar geschaffen, darum setze ich mich dafür ein, dass wir Menschen Gott ehren und seine Schöpfung bewahren. Leider sind wir aber daran die Welt zu zerstören. Die Menschheit verbraucht immer mehr Resourcen und bringt die Welt aus dem Gleichgewicht. Darum müssen wir unseren Fussabdruck verringern. Das kann nur funktionieren, wenn wir uns nicht mehr so unkontrolliert vermehren. Anzahl Mensch ist gleich Anzahl Probleme.
Darstellung im Maßstab 1:87 (H0).
OMG I had such a great day this past Wednesday, perhaps one of my best days as a girl! Sorry for the long post and hope you can take the time to read it. I chronicle outings like this so I can remember them and like sharing them with my friends here!
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I was up early and a spur of the moment decision to get dressed up and go out shopping hit me like a freight train (BTW I love when that feeling happens). I knew the stores opened an extra hour earlier at 9AM rather than the usual 10AM so I hurried up and cleaned up, did my makeup, got dresses, and did my nail all in record time! I was planning to get there as soon as it opened because even though I do out shopping dressed a lot I tend to shy away from the really busy shopping times when it is really crowded. I wanted to go to Nordstrom (had a small coupon!) and you can park upstairs in the garage and enter on their second level which is exclusively all women's and girl's departments. So setting this scenario I will tell you that I didn't get back home until 7PM and had a blast of a day unexpectedly! Details are as follows.;
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1st pic- I wanted to wear this new outfit out but know the cute skater skirt is really short and I thought the whole ensemble is kind of over the top girlie girl but figured I was only going to be out for not more than an hour so I wore it. I have had the killer blue 5" heels for a bit longer but had only wore them out to a night spot twice, not for shopping as it makes me pretty tall. (9:05 AM)
2nd & 3rd pic- First stop was their new TOPSHOP department which features trendy junior fashions, I think it's only been there about 3 months. I tried on many outfits and dresses and was helped by a lovely young sales girl who is actually an aspiring photography which I found out when I asked her if she would mind taking a few photos of me. We exchanged contact info after asking if she would be interested in doing a photo shoot for me out on location somewhere someday. I didn't get either of these 2 outfits but did buy a cool multi colored mini skirt!! (9:05-10:45 AM)
4th pic- The next department was Better Dresses and a sales girl I had met before, Cindy, was working and we said hello and wished happy holidays. Cindy is always dressed to perfection and this day was no exception, so I complimented on her look and told she always looks fantastic which she really appreciated! I tried on this gorgeous long blue dress and the same one in maroon. First I tried the one in maroon in a size 14 and Cindy said it looked a bit big and went to get another size but came back with the blue in a size 12 ( yes, very happy here!!) as their were none in the maroon. As soon as I came out in this dress she was raving about how good I looked in it! Cindy has been working there as long as I have been shopping there and has seen my figure improvements over time and always compliments me on my work in that department! I decided to hold off in getting this even though the sale price was pretty good. I tried on 2 more dresses there and then moved on. (10:45- 11:30 AM)
5th pic- This was in the regular dress department which had some really pretty holiday dresses on display. I tried on 2 dresses here including this one pictured, a pewter color cocktail/ party dress with a poufy crinkle skirt. I decided that it looked better on the hanger (but it was another size 12!! Yay!).This dress department was recently renovated and had an outstanding and very feminine dressing room are that you will see in some future postings. (11:30- 11:55AM)
6th & 7th pics- I left Nordstrom feeling great and walked back to my car in the delicious crystal clear sunshine with my new skirt in a holiday shopping bag and smiled to everyone I passed getting warm smiles in return! I decided to drive over to the Bloomingdale's entrance and look around. Very expensive in here but I love looking!! As soon as I go in I see another sales girl friend, Marissa, dressed in a black skirt, tights, and boots with a pretty green peplum jacket, a big furry hat and collar wrap! Quite an unusually sight at any time of year here in the tropics!! She saw me and laughed out loud when I said "What on earth are you dressed for?" Another sale associate was with her ready to take pictures of Marissa and they explained their corporate offices were encouraging them to dress up a sales associate in their best winter holiday fashions and send it in for some kind of prizes, so they thought it would be a funny pic from their warm weather sales team! I asked Marissa if I could take a pic of her, which I did, and then got one with us together that I already posted 2 pics ago. She looked amazing! I walked around about half of the sales woman's wear sales floor feeling almost giddy by now and ended up back in Marissa's department ( BCGC ) and tried on a dress and 2 skirts. I didn't get the leather skirt in pic #6 but I did get the skirt in pic #7. It's kind of a hounds tooth print of red and black with 2 large pleats on each side and a black leather accent waistband. I very proud you tell you it was a size 10 as with most of us we go down a size in bottoms from our dress sizes ( thrilled!!)! Best thing is that the skirt I chose was on sale already and the store was giving an extra 15% off so I think I got a good deal at $3o for a pretty skirt especially in Bloomies!! I paid for it and said good bye to Marissa and left Bloomingdales. (12:15- 1 PM)
NO PICS - By now I was figuring I have been out so long today that I might as well make it all day thing so I parked by one of the mall entrances and walked one wing of the mall and stopped in the Steve Madden shoe store ( I wish my feet were smaller!). They always have gorgeous shoes. I visited the Marciano dress store and although the 3 sales girls I know from there didn't happen to be working, I talked with one as I was looking at the new dress arrivals. I told her who I knew that worked there and showed her pics of the 3 different Marciano dresses I have gotten already. She was impressed about how good I looked in them! I asked if there was a place I could leave a hello note to the girls I missed and she came back with some paper and pen but also brought a holiday card that was being signed by sales associates and some better customers and asked if I wanted to sign it and they were going to put it on the wall from Christmas to New Years. I thought that was very sweet and signed it "Thanks for all your help and fun shopping - Lisa"! I walked back into the mall and like my last visit, it had gotten pretty crowded but I didn't rush and wasn't aware of any weird looks so I window shopped back towards where I came in. (1:10 - 2:15 PM)
8th & 9th pics- After returning from the mall to my car being rather ecstatic over the shopping experiences, I decided to drive over to one of the nicer restaurants adjacent to the mall that also has a excellent bar area. I figured the lunch crowd had dwindled down and I would go in for a cocktail even though it was officially too early for happy hour that starts 4PM!! I went in an there was only 1 other person at the bar just finishing up a solo lunch and perhaps 3 or 4 booths in this area that were occupied by people. A booth near and facing me were 2 attractive women that had finished lunch but were having a drink and laughing and having a good time. I know that they were talking about shopping and makeup and were taking pics of each other and selfies holding something up to their faces that I thought were eye shadow color swatches or something. When they were getting ready to leave one of the women walked over to me and said hello and introduced herself. She said that I shouldn't think they were crazy but they were in Macy's and bought a new mascara and were just laughing over it because of the name of the mascara. I looked at her lashes and asked if she was wearing it and she said yes and they sure did look good. Then as she was giggling uncontrollably she shows me the mascara package and it's name was "Better Than Sex"! I laughed with her and asked her was the name right? She said better than some she has had!!! It was a good laugh and I told her a bit about myself and she did likewise. I was honest with her and whispered that she better be more careful with her leg positioning in a dress under a booth as she was giving me quite an up skirt view! She laughed again and said she doesn't wear dresses too much and is a bit of a jock and agreed she needs to handle wearing a dress a bit better. She called over her tennis partner she was eating with and told her what I said which made the other woman bust out laughing! Obviously they had more than just one drink but told me they do a lunch every year and the one who has lost the most matches together throughout the year has to pay the bill. We chatted for a few moments and I told them I went shopping since the mall opened and needed a rest. They asked where I was and I told them and that I got 2 new awesome skirts and they told me what they bought. We wished each happiness and they went to their merry way! By this time 2 other people sat down at the bar. One woman and then a young business man. I was occasionally chatting with the female bartender that I had met there before and they woman that sat down even though she was a few seats away from me. Then 2 other women came in at sat at the opposite end of the bar and a group of 4 women came in and sat on the other side of me. The young business guy was stealing glances at the woman at the bar I was occasionally chatting with and it didn't go unnoticed by her because she was turning my way and making funny faces showing she was interested or amused by him. After he finished his beer he was either feeling out numbered by women of was just plain stupid and got up and left! I picked up my stuff and moved over to the woman I was talking to and she said yes please sit with me. It's just a girl thing that you feel when the time is right! We chatted and got to know each other. She is married and originally from Colombia but living here now. She wanted to buy me another Cosmopolitan (yum!) and I agreed but said I better order some food as I hadn't had a thing to eat all day. We looked over the menu and decided to split a grilled artichoke appetizer and a kobe beef sliders plate. While waiting I walked over to the 4 women that had come in because one of them had a big black suitcase full of jewelry she makes. I looked at the jewelry and they were very nice. She said that Macy's will be letting her do a 2 day trunk sale in their store after the holidays are over. They do that to highlight local designers and she gets an invite to show her stuff to their corporate buyer. I wished her luck and she gave me her card and said look on her website as to when she will be in Macy's and come visit her there. I went back and munched out with my new friend who was very entertaining and the place was starting to fill up with people pretty good. Megen, the bartender came over and told us we get a free drink because the last one was bought after 4PM during happy hour. We ordered and I told my new friend I had to use the ladies room before I exploded and she said she has to also so off we went. Now this has happened to me a few times before and not surprising because its another of those things women do together. I love it as it is a really feminine feeling being thought of as one of them! Inside she had me cracking up and almost falling over in my cubicle telling me to hurry up!! I told her it takes me a bit longer to get all square but she kept on giving me royal ribbing and teasing and then busted my chops as I took longer than her in the mirror primping! Loved that! We went back to the bar and had our new drinks awaiting us and talked with some other people and before I knew it, it was 6:30PM and we both said it was time to go. One guy who had just come in sitting on other side of her attempted to buy us both new drinks but we declined saying we had been there too long already! I walked out with her and exchanged numbers and hugged and got in our cars. I was on cloud 9 driving home as you can imagine! ( 2:25- 7 PM)
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In summery it was one of the greatest girl days I had ever had just because of the length of it, the unique things that happened, and that it wasn't planed, I just went with the flow! My apprehension in such a flirty outfit paid dividends for me as I did ask some of the girls I knew if it was too short and none them said it was too short and just perfect for me! Marissa even said " I would expect nothing else from Lisa !" and one new sales girl I met in Nordstrom confided to me she thought I was someone famous when she saw me far away across the store and that I had legs that most women would love to have and that I should continued to wear short skirts and show them off!
I got home and put my 2 new skirts away, undressed, took my make up off, and took a warm bubble bath reflecting on the fun of the day. Then I slipped on some lovely silky lingerie and sat down to catch up on work emails and things to do that I neglected in lieu of having a fun filled girls day out! Needless to say I slept like a baby that night feeling totally feminine and extremely happy! I wish for fun days for all of you, whatever you like to do!!
Powered by a gigantic 28.5 liter 4-cylinder engine, the Fiat S76 was designed for land speed record racing. Deemed "uncontrollable", both examples were thought lost until 2014-2015 when Duncan Pittaway debuted a restored/recreated model at the Goodwood Festival of Speed. Some very exciting videos of this car can be seen on Youtube.
Gunnamatta Beach, Mornington Peninsula VIC. I got some really nice light for a couple of minutes. I was trying to shoot the sunset but gave up due to uncontrollable flare caused by the sun on the filters. I ditched the filters and turned away from the sun.
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Yes it is true, I have risen from the nearly dead.
Without getting to dramatic the 2nd covid shot
took me down a road I don't wish to follow ;-0-
Raging fever, uncontrollable tremors taking
me near delirium and unimageable confusion.
My teeth were chattering so hard I stuffed the
blanket into my mouth to prevent broken teeth.
Now I've had worse days but this one has wasted
Christmas eve, Christmas Day and nearly two days
after. During bouts of emotional disruption I started
planning a thank you letter to be sent up to china !
Something along these lines ---
"May The Blue Bird of Paradise
S#=T all over your fondest wishes !"
Well it sounded good when I was
putting it all together in my little
monkey brain, what say you ?
Now lets take a look at the positive
side of this mind boggling quandary.
In my possession is a brand new covid vaccine passport.
This allows me to enter most anywhere here in Thailand.
No# 1 has been taken out to the nuns place.
They have called her everyday with great
concerns for Uncle Jon. Today they have
a bunch of local fruit they are sending
to me for a fast and speedy recovery.
Speaking of food ---
I know this is happening all around the world
but no# 1 came back from the morning market
with only a tiny bag of vegetables. What in the
past cost 50 or 60 cents [USD} now cost $2.50!
Looks like I need to start on a new
"thank you mr blue bird letter"
Who would I send it to ?
With all that being said we are still
the same same people looking
after the same same dogs ;-)
And ya know what ?
Get ready for the ride cuz a New Year
is coming and it's just around the corner.
Thank You.
Jon&Crew.
Please help with your donations here.
www.gofundme.com/saving-thai-temple-dogs.
Please No Awards, Gyrating Graphics,
Invites or Large Group Logos, Thank You.
'
I had a roll of Retrochrome 320 in the camera to finish while at the at the Hardin County Fair. This was about the last shot I could take with this film and camera combination as the light was leaving fast. Although the shadow was really uncontrollable I still liked the framing black trees and the bit of spark left in the sky. As mentioned it was getting late and this really saturated the color. The slide is slightly underexposed which again saturated the color and also accounts for the increased grain.
Film: Retrochrome 320 exposed at 400.
Retrochrome is available only at www.filmphotographyproject.com/store
Processed at www.theDarkroom.com
Camera: Olympus XA4 Macro
Imagine by: Leslie Lazenby
Kenton Ohio, Hardin County Fair. September 2105
retro-vintage-photography.blogspot.com/
Maurice Tillet (1903 – August 4, 1954) was a French professional wrestler known as The French Angel who was a leading box office draw in the early 1940s and was recognized as world heavyweight champion by the American Wrestling Association run by Paul Bowser in Boston.
Born in France, he could speak 14 languages and was also a poet and actor. In his twenties, he developed acromegaly, a rare disease that causes bones to grow wildly and uncontrollably. Soon his whole body was disfigured as a result. Seeking a new identity to fit his disfigurement, Tillet moved to the United States where he made a living on his appearance by becoming a professional wrestler, and was dubbed as the "freak ogre of the ring". His villain persona ("the French Angel") was an instant success with the crowds, becoming one of the largest draws in professional wrestling and spawning a series of "Angel" imitators.
On August 1, 1944, The French Angel defeated Steve "Crusher" Casey for the Boston-based world championship. He became a recluse, although a few people did manage to befriend Tillet, including the businessman Patrick Kelly, whose home in Braintree, Massachusetts Tillet would often visit.
Tillet died in 1954 from heart disease at age 51.
Basanta Utsav literally means the 'celebration of spring'. ...
Annually celebrated in March, the festival is an occassion to invite the colourful spring season with utmost warmth. What is appreciated is the grace and diginified manner in which Vasant Utsav is celebrated in Bengal as compared to uncontrollable Holi witnessed in most parts of India.
The beautiful tradition of celebrating spring festival in Bengal was first started by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore at Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan.
Now we come to the stripes part of this contest! I bought this bodycon dress last summer, while visiting the sales at Debenhams, on Oxford Street. Except that this dress wasn’t on sale – it was a brand new Autumn collection item, at full price... But I just couldn’t help myself, and so I bought the dress immediately - on an uncontrollable impulse! I hope you like it as much as I do!
Remember that there are no rules whatever in my contests – express your preferences in any way that you like…!
Lots more to come soon, but bye bye for now! Kisses to all my amazing friends!
xxxxxxx
Rebecca
The school that I attended in Omaha, 1955-56.
In those days, there were no Toyotas. But I do remember my mother driving me to school in the family Jeep one cold winter's morning, and the downhill stretch of road was so icy that the Jeep spun around in two complete circles before it came to a stop beside the school.
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Some of the photos in this album are “originals” from the year that my family spent in Omaha in 1955-56. But the final 10 color photos were taken nearly 40 years later, as part of some research that I was doing for a novel called Do-Overs, the beginning of which can be found here on my website
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/index.html
and the relevant chapter (concerning Omaha) can be found here:
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/chapters/ch9.html
Before I get into the details, let me make a strong request — if you’re looking at these photos, and if you are getting any enjoyment at all of this brief look at some mundane Americana from 60+ years ago: find a similar episode in your own life, and write it down. Gather the pictures, clean them up, and upload them somewhere on the Internet where they can be found. Trust me: there will come a day when the only person on the planet who actually experienced those events is you. Your own memories may be fuzzy and incomplete; but they will be invaluable to your friends and family members, and to many generations of your descendants.
So, what do I remember about the year that I spent in Omaha? Not much at the moment, though I’m sure more details will occur to me in the days to come — and I’ll add them to these notes, along with additional photos that I’m tweaking and editing now.
For now, here is a random list of things I remember:
1. I attended the last couple months of 6th grade, and all of 7th grade, in one school. My parents moved from Omaha to Long Island, NY in the spring of my 7th grade school year; but unlike previous years, they made arrangements for me to stay with a neighbor’s family, so that I could finish the school year before joining them in New York.
2. Our dog, Blackie, traveled with us from our previous home in Riverside, and was with us until my parents left Omaha for New York; at that point, they gave him to some other family. For some reason, this had almost no impact on me. It was a case of “out of sight, out of mind” — when Blackie was gone, I spent my final three months in Omaha without ever thinking about him again.
3. Most days, I rode my bike to school; but Omaha was the place where one of my sisters first started attending first grade — in the same school where I was attending 6th grade. I remember walking her to school along Bellevue Avenue on the first morning, which seemed to take forever: it was about a mile away.
4. As noted in a previous Flickr album about my year in Riverside, I was a year younger than my classmates; but I was tall for my age, and thus looked “normal” at a quick glance. But because I was a year younger, I was incredibly shy and awkward in the presence of girls. Omaha was certainly not “sin city,” but by 6th grade and 7th grade, puberty was beginning to hit, and the girls had grown to the point where they were occasionally interested in boys. The school tried to accommodate this social development by teaching us the square dance (and forbidding the playing of songs by Elvis Presley, whose music was just beginning to be heard on the radio). I was an awful dancer, and even more of a shy misfit than my classmates; I continue to be an awful dancer today.
5. My bike ride to school was uneventful most days; but the final part of the ride was a steep downhill stretch on Avery Road, lasting three or four blocks. My friends and I usually raced downhill as fast as we could; but one day, my front bicycle wheel began to wobble on the downhill run, and my bike drifted uncontrollably to the side of the road and then off into a ditch. I got banged up pretty badly.
6. But this accident was nothing compared to my worst mishap: a neighborhood friend and I enjoyed playing “cowboys and Indians” in the woods near his home (and his younger brother usually tagged along). I had a bow and a few arrows for our adventure, and we often shot at trees a hundred feet away. Unfortunately, the arrows often disappeared into the underbrush (because we were lousy shots) and were difficult to find. Consequently, one of us came up with the clever idea of standing behind the “target” tree, so that we could see where the randomly-shot arrows landed. Through a series of miscommunications, I poked my head out from behind the tree just as my friend shot one of the arrows … and it skipped off the side of the tree and into my face, impaling itself into my cheek bone about an inch below my eye. An inch higher, and I would not be typing these words … (meanwhile, my friend's younger brother grew up to be an officer in the U.S. Air Force, and he tracked me down on the Internet, decades later).
7. In the summer of 1956, my parents decided to spend their summer vacation prospecting for uranium (seriously!) in the remote hills of eastern Utah, where my dad had grown up on the Utah-Colorado border. This entailed a long, long drive from Omaha; and it involved leaving me and my two sisters with my grandparents near Vernal, UT. My grandparents lived in a very small mining village outside of Vernal; and while they had electricity and various other modern conveniences, they also had an outhouse in the back yard. Trips to the “bathroom” in the middle of the night were quite an adventure. On the way back to Omaha at the end of this vacation trip (with no uranium ore having been found), we stopped for a couple of days of camping somewhere in the mountains of Colorado; you’ll see a couple of photos from that camping trip in this album.
8. There were no lizards in Omaha, and thus no opportunity for lizard-hunting with my slingshot—which had been a significant hobby in my previous homes in Riverside and Roswell. Indeed, there was almost nothing to shoot at … and I couldn’t find anyone with whom I could play (and hopefully win) marbles, to use as slingshot ammunition. But for reasons I never questioned or investigated (but about which I’m very curious now), there was a small vineyard in the field behind our house, and I was able to climb over the fence and retrieve dozens of small, hard, green grapes. They turned out to be excellent ammunition … but I never did find any lizards.
9. A few months before my parents left for New York, I told them about the latest craze sweeping the neighborhood: “English bikes,” with three speeds, thin tires, and hand-brakes. I desperately wanted one, but Dad said it was far too expensive for him to buy as a frivolous gift for me: at the time, English bikes had an outrageous price tag of $25. I was told that I would have to earn the money myself if I wanted one … and the going rate for young, scrawny kids who shoveled sidewalks, pulled weeds from gardens, and did babysitting chores, was 25 cents per hour. That works out to 100 hours of work … but I did it, over the course of the next few months, and when I got to New York, the first thing I did was buy my English bike.
10. Toward the end of my 7th-grade school year, everyone in my class was subjected to a vision test: we were lined up in alphabetical order, and one-by-one read off a series of letters that we could barely see on a large placard taped onto the classroom blackboard. Because my surname starts with a “Y,” I was usually near the end of the line … and by the time I got to the front, I had usually memorized the letters (because they never bothered to change them, from one student to the next) without even realizing it consciously. But on this particular occasion in 7th grade, for some reason, they decided to line us up in reverse alphabetical order … and I was the first in line. For the first time in my life, I realized that I could not see anything of the letters, and that I was woefully near-sighted. When I got to New York, my parents took me to an optometrist to get my first set of glasses (and, yes, all of the neighborhood kids did begin taunting me immediately: “Four eyes! Four eyes!”) … and I’ve worn glasses ever since.
11. Three years after I arrived in New York, the glasses saved my vision when a home-brewed mix of gunpowder and powdered aluminum blew up in my face in the school chemistry lab (where I had an after-school volunteer job as a “lab assistant”). I suffered 2nd-degree burns on my face from the explosion, but the glasses protected my eyes. That, however, is a different story for a different time.
My Higher Power often comes to me in the form of four legs.
Hannah is over 13 years of age. Barkley recently celebrated 6 months. My old Gal, always faithful and full of proper manners, continues to teach the little one on all things etiquette. Barkley has learned, for the most part, to leave Hannah alone, follow her cues, and only play with her if she initiates it. And his reward, about every three days or four days (3 if she gets Aspirin), is Hannah starting to chase him outside. This lasts for about 20 minutes. Hannah’s old German Sheppard hips sometimes seem to fail her; but nothing makes her spirit radiate more than just plain barking and chasing that Puppy (well, maybe roast beef does).
I take them to an open field with the tall grass and plenty of room where they can be off their leashes, and they have a blast. People who know Hannah always talk about her manners (I have taken her to festivals with 1000s of people with no leash) and many say they could take her to church. And now Barkley, with Hannah’s help, is really turning into a fine gentleman. Only possessed and full of the uncontrollable “Dickens” on occasion.
Every single day has been a gift to us from Hannah. And while she is in the twilight of her time here, she still leads the way and gives us all gifts that will remain long after she moves on.
Methinks this photo will be on our wall for many years to come.
Date: July 19, 2020, Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Gospel: Matthew 13:24-43
Pearl: Participation in the Kingdom of God begins with a seed.
Participation in the Kingdom of God begins with a seed. Two of the three parables in our Gospel reading are about seeds and one is about yeast, but all of them relate to the Kingdom of God. I am going to focus on the first parable in our Gospel reading (the weeds among the wheat), because it is the one Jesus unpacks for his disciples. The sower of this seed is Jesus himself. The expanse of the world is the field in which this seed is planted. We could say that we receive this seed at the time of our baptism, but our baptism is just the beginning for this seed; it must be nurtured for it to grow into a mature plant that ultimately bares fruit. The new life within us, also holds within itself a potential, a reality…of the Kingdom of God, a light for all to see, in a world that often seems troubled. We share in this light and reflect it, but we are not the light…we are the branches on the vine or as our parable states wheat in the field…we are the children of the Kingdom.
We have received the “good seed” which we received at our baptism. We are “marked” as the wheat that grows in the fields of our parable. As our hearts receive the seed, we soon have support structures such as our family and our Church community that help foster the growth of this sapling through our young life. Soon enough, we become responsible for nurturing the plant-our faith which will grown as we mature . If we neglect the task of nurturing the good seed…as we heard from last week’s gospel reading, the cares of the world will overgrow it, choke it and even extinguish it.
As an adult, we take responsibility for the nurturing of the plant (which is our faith). I relate this to the care I give a trumpet vine in my yard. Every summer, I struggle with this vine that I planted in our yard when we moved into our house. Why do I struggle with the vine? Well I have learned that if I ignore it, something that can be so beautiful turns into something that grows uncontrollably and turns rather messy and appears to be unmanageable…almost like a weed. However, if I start in the Spring, I can snip off new vine starts, and there are plenty of new starts, I can shape it so that the new vines grow higher up on the pole. Soon the vine looks groomed and beautifully flowers throughout the summer. The important point is that I cannot take my eyes of it…as soon as I do…I am surprised to find unwanted growth. The same is true with our faith…it has to be attended to and nurtured. It is my potential. But I must care for it constantly. The evil around us does affect us…it is our job to trim and prune off these influences. I often imagine, when I am trimming the wild shoots on my trumpet vine…that I am doing a similar pruning of that plant that was initially planted at my baptism.
One reality we must face is that we grow amongst the weeds. It is when we are surrounded by evil that good and the beautiful stands out. In other words, that bad things around us, the pandemic, the bad behavior, the hatred…all the negative on social media…it is in these conditions where the Kingdom of God has the potential to shine…as the light in the darkness. Those who crucified Christ, thought they where putting end to Jesus, but after the resurrection The Kingdom rolled forth in time…to greet us at our baptism. The “Kingdom of God” Shines through us. We are the “People of God” and it is up to us to let the goodness of God…flow through us directly to a wounded world. Yes, these are the times, and the conditions are ripe for us to spread the hope and the peace within our “circle of influence.”
Based on our main parable, it is not our job to separate the weeds from the wheat…we are the wheat. Our job is to let God work through us to bring healing to the world. Yes, weeds…the influence of evil in the world is going to be with us until the end. As we read in scripture, the Father “makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and unjust.”
Even though the The Kingdom of God shines through us, Collectively it also shines through our Church also. Our culture has not been kind to us. We have experienced the embarrassment…from various Church scandals that on occasion stun us. But we remain in the Church, understanding that we all fall short, it is in our human nature. Distractions big or small, should not be used by us to ignore the work that we must do in our individual gardens. How is the Kingdom of God going to be reflected in me? How are we measuring up to the two great commandments to love God with all one’s heart and our love our neighbor as we love ourselves? This is the point, where the Kingdom of God is mirrored to the world.
“Our parable does have an ending. As unsettling as this might be to us hearers, there will be a harvest, where the angels will collect the wheat from the kingdom, they will shine like the sun in the Kingdom of their Father, and the weeds will be collected out of the kingdom to an uncertain fate…it is not our job to judge what is a weed and to determine its fate…God is the just judge who will reward or condemn. We let God be God for as Isaiah says and I paraphrase…My thoughts are not your thoughts and my ways are not your ways…as the heavens are higher, so are my ways.
Our two remaining parables: the Yeast and the Mustard Seed tells us a bit of how we participate in the Kingdom of God, we share in its marvelous expansion in the world and the world to come. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) teaches that the coming Reign of God will be a kingdom of love, peace, and justice. ... The kingdom of Godbegan with Christ's death and resurrection and must be further extended by Christians until it has been brought into perfection by Christ at the end of time.
In a moment, as a community, we are going to pray the “Our Father;” in this prayer we say “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is heaven.” Yes, HIS, Kingdom will come, and is already amongst us; he is preparing his people. We mirror the potential of this Kingdom here and now. As a community, may we reflect that beautiful wheat field to the world. Let each of us tend to the plant, which began as a seed in each of us…let us now receive spiritual nourishment from the Master Gardener…
View Large on Black at www.thewindypixel.com!
A favorite spot of mine in the early morning glory. I love the moments when there is a clear horizon and a radiant twilight - it makes one feel alive, awake and ready for the next adventure.
I picked up a copy of "Galen Rowell: A Retrospective" a few weeks ago and I love the book. Those unfamiliar with Rowell's work need only type his name into a search engine to find out that he made many of the wild and rugged images that appeared in National Geographic over the years. After reading the text and gazing at the images, I have an uncontrollable urge to shoot film. I know digital is better, it is a pure medium compared to film - allowing one to make virtually any kind of image, i.e. film-like, HDR, black and white, etc, but that is the point - seeing such incredible images all made on emulsion, all made by playing by the hard and fast rules of silver halide chemistry is inspiring. The book reminded me that film is elegant and difficult, digital is practical and easy. Time to dust off the Hasselblad perhaps ...
PHOTOSHOP COMPOSITION: The Unforgetable Fire
This my early March submission. Lately I have have been having a very strong feeling of longing for my past. I is both a sad and joyful feeling. This picture of Key West,
Florida is one of the first places I visited in Florida in 1980.
Fun fact # 1. This picture was taken in Mallory Square in Key West,
Florida. It was wild in the 80"s!
Fun fact # 2. I am not a big U2 fan, but this song, in my opinion is their best song.
I have decided to give myself a monthly challange with photography and CS5. The lesson is very simple, I have listed twelve of my favorite songs and each month I will take one of the song titles and compose a picture around it. My criteria is that the picture must be an original picture I have taken and that I use my CS5 skills to enhance the picture to meet the theme of the song title. Some will be direct some obscure. Listed below are the songs I will be using in the next twelve months. Here is my September compostion. This is a prototype. I have a better idea in mind but it will take a few days to take the picutres.
The Flesh Failures-Hair Original Cast Recording [February]*
The Uncontrollable Fire-U2*[March 2013]
Wild Horses-Rolling Stones [June]*
Wonderwall-Ryan Adams [July]*
L'Estasi Dell'Oro-Ennio Morricone [November]*
Sorcerer-Tangerine Dream [September]*
Taxi to Heaven-Pray for Rain [December]*
White Room-Cream [October]*
Redemption Song-Bob Marley [August]*
Cruel Summer-Bananarama
The Celestials-Smashing Pumpkins
Every Step of the Way-Santana [December]*
[Español abajo :)] - Matryoshka doll (Russian doll).
For a while I was a marketing manager for the North Europe region in a multinational technology company. It was a job I enjoyed because of working with people from other countries and for the occasional opportunities to travel.
This Russian stacking doll was bought on one of the trips to Finland. The Finns are interesting folk. Just like their language, they are a totally different people group to any other European one, and definitely not Russian! They can appear dour and grim as befits their climate, but I always found them friendly and hospitable.
Finns have a strange, virtually incomprehensible sense of humour. The best way I can describe it is to say that it is drier than arid, and for a dry-witted Englishman that is saying something!
Ah... In this world of unintended consequences, I can tell my viewer would now like to hear a Finnish joke. Well first gather your group of Finns, and then tell them this story:
‘Once a man was fishing in the centre of a remote lake sitting by a hole in the ice. There was then a very rare occurrence. Another man came in sight.
Seeing the fisherman the visitor walked over and sat down beside him in silence. Three hours later they were still sitting there and not a word had been spoken.
Eventually the visitor spoke, “Why are you fishing here?” he asked. The fisherman paused and then replied, “To catch fish.”’
At which point your Finnish audience will fall about laughing uncontrollably…
The really worrying thing is, now that many years have passed I actually appreciate why it’s funny. By you have to understand the Finnish mindset :)
The trip started at Helsinki but mainly consisted of an overnight boat trip to Tallinn, the capital of Estonia on the other, southern side of the Baltic. Ostensibly it was for a product update from me and others but everyone knew the real agenda: to get into International waters so the draconian Finnish alcohol taxes could be ignored and for the clients to get wildly drunk.
And drunk they did get. My, how they did!
I have been in drinking groups before but never have I seen a group of people drink so much and then walk on two legs the day after. We congregated for dinner and folk had had three double shots of vodka before the starters were served… and then it went on like that for eight hours…
Well, a pint and a half of beer and 37 Cokes later I arrived in Tallinn.
Tallinn is a lovely city. The old town is a very typical North European walled city (not Russian) built on a hill. But it is surrounded by grim grey Soviet-era tenement blocks that fill the suburbs.
On one of the cobbled streets as I walked up to the top I found a lovely little shop that specialised in these Russian nested dolls. There were dozens of different types all in different designs. Most of them stack three to seven deep with each doll twisting apart to reveal the smaller one within.
I bought this one as a memento of the visit, and for the joy of seeing the smile of delight on my young daughter’s face when she saw it taken apart on my return. This one appealed because it wasn’t in the bright glossy colours that characterised most of the tourist ones. Instead it was fashioned in matt wood, carved then marked with a hot iron and finally gilded. It seemed more authentic.
This is the smallest and largest of the 5 doll set. Taken for the 2DWF group’s Two Together theme.
Thank you for taking the time to look. I hope you enjoy the image! Happy 2DWF :)
[Set on wooden pastry board with green card background. Sidelit in daylight. Tripod mount; manual focus in Live Mode; remote trigger.
Processed in Capture One for colour.
Unsharp Mask and dark vignette in Affinity Photo and that’s about it :)]
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Muñeca matryoshka (muñeca rusa).
Durante un tiempo fui gerente de marketing para la región del norte de Europa en una empresa multinacional de tecnología. Fue un trabajo que disfruté por trabajar con personas de otros países y por las oportunidades ocasionales de viajar.
Esta muñeca rusa de apilamiento fue comprada en uno de los viajes a Finlandia. Los finlandeses son gente interesante. Al igual que su idioma, son un grupo de personas totalmente diferente a cualquier otro europeo, ¡y definitivamente no son rusos! Pueden parecer severos y sombríos como corresponde a su clima, pero siempre los encontré amigables y hospitalarios.
Los finlandeses tienen un extraño y virtualmente incomprensible sentido del humor. ¡La mejor manera de describirlo es decir que es más seco que árido, y para un inglés ingenuo que está diciendo algo!
Ah ... En este mundo de consecuencias no deseadas, puedo decirle a mi espectador que le gustaría escuchar una broma finlandesa. Bueno, primero reúna a su grupo de finlandeses y luego cuénteles esta historia:
"Una vez un hombre estaba pescando en el centro de un lago remoto sentado junto a un agujero en el hielo. Hubo entonces una ocurrencia muy rara. Otro hombre apareció a la vista.
Al ver al pescador, el visitante se acercó y se sentó a su lado en silencio. Tres horas más tarde todavía estaban sentados allí y no se había dicho una sola palabra.
Finalmente, el visitante habló: "¿Por qué estás pescando aquí?", Preguntó. El pescador hizo una pausa y luego respondió: "Para atrapar peces".
En qué punto su audiencia finlandesa caerá sobre la risa incontrolable ...
Lo realmente preocupante es que, ahora que han pasado muchos años, realmente aprecio por qué es gracioso. Por que tienes que entender la mentalidad finlandesa :)
El viaje comenzó en Helsinki, pero consistió principalmente en un viaje nocturno en barco a Tallin, la capital de Estonia en el otro lado sur del Báltico. Aparentemente fue para una actualización del producto de mi parte y de otros, pero todos sabían la verdadera agenda: entrar en aguas internacionales para que los impuestos draconianos del alcohol finlandés pudieran ser ignorados y para que los clientes se emborrachen violentamente.
Y borrachos se pusieron. ¡Mí, cómo lo hicieron!
He estado en grupos de bebedores antes, pero nunca he visto a un grupo de personas beber tanto y luego caminar con las dos piernas al día siguiente. Nos reunimos para la cena y la gente había tenido tres tragos dobles de vodka antes de que se sirvieran los entrantes ... y luego siguió así durante ocho horas ...
Bueno, una pinta y media de cerveza y 37 Coca Colas más tarde llegué a Tallin.
Tallin es una ciudad encantadora. El casco antiguo es una ciudad amurallada muy típica del norte de Europa (no rusa) construida sobre una colina. Pero está rodeado de sombríos bloques de viviendas de la era soviética que llenan los suburbios.
En una de las calles empedradas, mientras caminaba hacia la cima, encontré una pequeña tienda encantadora que se especializaba en estas muñecas rusas anidadas. Había docenas de diferentes tipos, todos en diferentes diseños. La mayoría de ellos apilan de tres a siete de profundidad con cada muñeca separándose para revelar la más pequeña dentro.
Compré este como un recuerdo de la visita, y por la alegría de ver la sonrisa de alegría en el rostro de mi hija cuando la vi destrozada a mi regreso. Este apeló porque no estaba en los brillantes colores brillantes que caracterizaban a la mayoría de los turistas. En su lugar, fue fabricado en madera mate, tallado, luego marcado con un hierro caliente y finalmente dorado. Parecía más auténtico.
Este es el más pequeño y el más grande de los 5 juegos de muñecas. Tomado para el equipo Two Together del grupo 2DWF.
Gracias por tomarse el tiempo para mirar. Espero que disfrutes la imagen! Feliz 2DWF :)
[Establecer en el tablero de pastelería de madera con fondo de tarjeta verde. Sidelit a la luz del día. Montura trípode; enfoque manual en el modo en vivo; disparador remoto.
Procesado en Capture One para color.
Unsharp Mask y una viñeta oscura en Affinity Photo y eso es todo :)]
Zaya offers comfort to her sister who is weeping uncontrollably over the attack on Ukraine. Most people in the world want peace, but we are all victims at times of evil, greedy leaders in our governments.
In Iceland, if there's something you should know about road conditions, it's that if the road is open, you should be able to drive through it, no matter what car you're driving, unless noticed otherwise.
Personnaly, I was driving a Nissan Micra, the smallest, cheapest car I could find, and the first time I was driving a manual car since getting my license back in 2000.
I took the Micra anywhere I could. Most roads were open except for the mountain roads going to the middle of the island, so I could go anywhere a 4x4 would also be allowed too.
So I wasn't tense getting onto road 917. That changed.
From the distance, at some point, I could see it was going uphill. That wasn't my first time.
This time, though, the road was so steep that even in 1st gear, I had a hard time climbing.
On top on that, there was tons of gravels on the gravel road so my wheels would sometimes spin uncontrollably.
On top of that, the road was so narrow and so without barriers that eveytime the spinning happened, there was a chance I would practice car diving.
On top of that, if I stopped, I was never going to start again.
So it was a true relief when I could find an area somehow flat to take a break, a shot, and a cigarette, so I could focus, astounded, on all the sorts of terrain I had in front of my eyes.
The kind of terrain good enough for all sorts of angle :
close up : www.flickr.com/photos/133095026@N06/48924190147/in/datepo...
not as close up : www.flickr.com/photos/133095026@N06/48917506778/in/datepo...
and now this.
In the image, the individual in the vivid orange survival suit, with fully-inflated lifejacket, dangles from a strop between two warships travelling on a parallel course about 100 feet apart. He is part of a demonstration, showing the large array of spectators aboard HMS Nottingham (and similar numbers aboard us - HMS Boxer) how to transfer personnel quickly between ships whilst remaining underway.
The light jackstay is the rope upon which he and everything around him is suspended. This is normally a four-inch manila rope, which has been passed across from us to Nottingham and tensioned before he is suspended from the traveller block, which is the metal feature that is running along the manila rope.
Of the two lower ropes attached to the traveller, the one on the left is the inhaul, which is used by us to pull the traveller back to us after the transfer is completed, either to stow the rig or to commence another transfer. The lower rope on the right is the outhaul. It is the means by which the individual is being pulled across to Nottingham. On Nottingham's main deck (below and to the right of the man's feet) can be seen a row of seamen hauling hard on the outhaul to pull the individual across the gap between the ships. They are the entire motive power in this evolution.
A key skill in this activity is ensuring the gap between the ships remains as steady as possible during the transfer. If they get too close, the jackstay sags and the individual may get his feet (or more!) wet. There is also the risk of the ships being affected by fluid dynamics which can result in them being sucked together, resulting in their sides colliding.
If one of the ships loses power or steering during an evolution like this, both ships have practiced emergency procedures for cutting away the ropes and the one still with power/steering turning away to avoid the uncontrollable vessel. This might result in the individual being transferred ending up in the water on his own, leading to a man-overboard situation...
This demonstration was conducted during the 1986 Staff College Sea Days in the English Channel, where the students at the Army, Navy and Air Force Staff Colleges got a day at sea to see all sorts of evolutions and activities aboard warships. Nottingham appears to have taken advantage of the commitment to also have a families day (note the children on the 02 deck at the far right of the image above the three containers for liferafts).
This was taken during the summer of 1955, when Mom and Dad went off prospecting for uranium in the hills of eastern Utah, while we three kids stayed behind with Grandpa and Grandma Yourdon.
On the back of the print is some scribbly handwriting that looks like Grandma Mabel Yourdon's, indicating that the little tyke standing on the front is our cousin Douglas, son of Dad's brother, Marvin Yourdon.
*********************************
Some of the photos in this album are “originals” from the year that my family spent in Omaha in 1955-56. But the final 10 color photos were taken nearly 40 years later, as part of some research that I was doing for a novel called Do-Overs, the beginning of which can be found here on my website
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/index.html
and the relevant chapter (concerning Omaha) can be found here:
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/chapters/ch9.html
Before I get into the details, let me make a strong request — if you’re looking at these photos, and if you are getting any enjoyment at all of this brief look at some mundane Americana from 60+ years ago: find a similar episode in your own life, and write it down. Gather the pictures, clean them up, and upload them somewhere on the Internet where they can be found. Trust me: there will come a day when the only person on the planet who actually experienced those events is you. Your own memories may be fuzzy and incomplete; but they will be invaluable to your friends and family members, and to many generations of your descendants.
So, what do I remember about the year that I spent in Omaha? Not much at the moment, though I’m sure more details will occur to me in the days to come — and I’ll add them to these notes, along with additional photos that I’m tweaking and editing now.
For now, here is a random list of things I remember:
1. I attended the last couple months of 6th grade, and all of 7th grade, in one school. My parents moved from Omaha to Long Island, NY in the spring of my 7th grade school year; but unlike previous years, they made arrangements for me to stay with a neighbor’s family, so that I could finish the school year before joining them in New York.
2. Our dog, Blackie, traveled with us from our previous home in Riverside, and was with us until my parents left Omaha for New York; at that point, they gave him to some other family. For some reason, this had almost no impact on me. It was a case of “out of sight, out of mind” — when Blackie was gone, I spent my final three months in Omaha without ever thinking about him again.
3. Most days, I rode my bike to school; but Omaha was the place where one of my sisters first started attending first grade — in the same school where I was attending 6th grade. I remember walking her to school along Bellevue Avenue on the first morning, which seemed to take forever: it was about a mile away.
4. As noted in a previous Flickr album about my year in Riverside, I was a year younger than my classmates; but I was tall for my age, and thus looked “normal” at a quick glance. But because I was a year younger, I was incredibly shy and awkward in the presence of girls. Omaha was certainly not “sin city,” but by 6th grade and 7th grade, puberty was beginning to hit, and the girls had grown to the point where they were occasionally interested in boys. The school tried to accommodate this social development by teaching us the square dance (and forbidding the playing of songs by Elvis Presley, whose music was just beginning to be heard on the radio). I was an awful dancer, and even more of a shy misfit than my classmates; I continue to be an awful dancer today.
5. My bike ride to school was uneventful most days; but the final part of the ride was a steep downhill stretch on Avery Road, lasting three or four blocks. My friends and I usually raced downhill as fast as we could; but one day, my front bicycle wheel began to wobble on the downhill run, and my bike drifted uncontrollably to the side of the road and then off into a ditch. I got banged up pretty badly.
6. But this accident was nothing compared to my worst mishap: a neighborhood friend and I enjoyed playing “cowboys and Indians” in the woods near his home (and his younger brother usually tagged along). I had a bow and a few arrows for our adventure, and we often shot at trees a hundred feet away. Unfortunately, the arrows often disappeared into the underbrush (because we were lousy shots) and were difficult to find. Consequently, one of us came up with the clever idea of standing behind the “target” tree, so that we could see where the randomly-shot arrows landed. Through a series of miscommunications, I poked my head out from behind the tree just as my friend shot one of the arrows … and it skipped off the side of the tree and into my face, impaling itself into my cheek bone about an inch below my eye. An inch higher, and I would not be typing these words … (meanwhile, my friend's younger brother grew up to be an officer in the U.S. Air Force, and he tracked me down on the Internet, decades later).
7. In the summer of 1956, my parents decided to spend their summer vacation prospecting for uranium (seriously!) in the remote hills of eastern Utah, where my dad had grown up on the Utah-Colorado border. This entailed a long, long drive from Omaha; and it involved leaving me and my two sisters with my grandparents near Vernal, UT. My grandparents lived in a very small mining village outside of Vernal; and while they had electricity and various other modern conveniences, they also had an outhouse in the back yard. Trips to the “bathroom” in the middle of the night were quite an adventure. On the way back to Omaha at the end of this vacation trip (with no uranium ore having been found), we stopped for a couple of days of camping somewhere in the mountains of Colorado; you’ll see a couple of photos from that camping trip in this album.
8. There were no lizards in Omaha, and thus no opportunity for lizard-hunting with my slingshot—which had been a significant hobby in my previous homes in Riverside and Roswell. Indeed, there was almost nothing to shoot at … and I couldn’t find anyone with whom I could play (and hopefully win) marbles, to use as slingshot ammunition. But for reasons I never questioned or investigated (but about which I’m very curious now), there was a small vineyard in the field behind our house, and I was able to climb over the fence and retrieve dozens of small, hard, green grapes. They turned out to be excellent ammunition … but I never did find any lizards.
9. A few months before my parents left for New York, I told them about the latest craze sweeping the neighborhood: “English bikes,” with three speeds, thin tires, and hand-brakes. I desperately wanted one, but Dad said it was far too expensive for him to buy as a frivolous gift for me: at the time, English bikes had an outrageous price tag of $25. I was told that I would have to earn the money myself if I wanted one … and the going rate for young, scrawny kids who shoveled sidewalks, pulled weeds from gardens, and did babysitting chores, was 25 cents per hour. That works out to 100 hours of work … but I did it, over the course of the next few months, and when I got to New York, the first thing I did was buy my English bike.
10. Toward the end of my 7th-grade school year, everyone in my class was subjected to a vision test: we were lined up in alphabetical order, and one-by-one read off a series of letters that we could barely see on a large placard taped onto the classroom blackboard. Because my surname starts with a “Y,” I was usually near the end of the line … and by the time I got to the front, I had usually memorized the letters (because they never bothered to change them, from one student to the next) without even realizing it consciously. But on this particular occasion in 7th grade, for some reason, they decided to line us up in reverse alphabetical order … and I was the first in line. For the first time in my life, I realized that I could not see anything of the letters, and that I was woefully near-sighted. When I got to New York, my parents took me to an optometrist to get my first set of glasses (and, yes, all of the neighborhood kids did begin taunting me immediately: “Four eyes! Four eyes!”) … and I’ve worn glasses ever since.
Three years after I arrived in New York, the glasses saved my vision when a home-brewed mix of gunpowder and powdered aluminum blew up in my face in the school chemistry lab (where I had an after-school volunteer job as a “lab assistant”). I suffered 2nd-degree burns on my face from the explosion, but the glasses protected my eyes. That, however, is a different story for a different time.
“Life is short, Break the Rules.
Forgive quickly, Kiss SLOWLY.
Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably
And never regret ANYTHING
That makes you smile.”
― Mark Twain
And I'm up too early with a head full of scattered thoughts... and life is short, and time passes too quickly... it's been a month since I took this photo... how can that be possible?
And you can never have too many pairs of reading glasses (or lens caps, for that matter) because no matter how many pairs of reading glasses I have, I can never find a pair.... time to stock up, because the title here on this photo, before reading glasses, was "Lide Ahort" ...whatever THAT means.... and yes, I guess it means that Torrie never took typing and never learned the keys.... that was an earlier post... way back!
And more thoughts before I move on with my day....
I need to start writing lists, I need to START something.... I need to FINISH something, I need to have a plan, there's been way too much crying going on lately, and not enough laughing, and not enough adventures, too many doubts (cosmic cleaning, karmic boomerang, if people act crazy during the full moon.... it's because they ARE crazy), I need to bring ice cream to work tomorrow because apparently work can't afford a half gallon of ice cream, and I want ice cream with my cake, and I'm probably not the only one, and I think I enjoy a challenge when I'm prepared for it, and why does the dog always want to go out at 5 am when Dayna is not home?, and I guess I can't go back to bed now, I wish I could go to work at 6 am (but I was told that my name is NOT on the front of the building... who knew) .....
Yes, this is what is going on in my head, aren't you glad you don't have to work with ME today .... and it's Sunday and we have a special name for Sunday at Kohls ( I won't share it) and it's a scratch off sale and a one day sale... and most likely, there will be crying (it won't be me), and "no, don't let go" hugs. I'm glad you're still here. Don't disappear.
I wonder what my horoscope says....
Have a good one! I hope you laugh uncontrollably! I hope I do, too!!
Chapter 1 - Episode 9
Location: Urban Sector - Slums, World of Ruin
Shadow began his climb down to the crumbling streets below. He lost track of time, looking out over the Slums from the broken access road high above the city streets. His mind was troubled. His thoughts like a winding road. Beneath this sprawling section of upper access roadways, was a well-preserved mansion of sorts. The architecture was masterful, holding fast against the flow of time, and the destruction of the Calamity that fell from the sky. Throughout his decent, Shadow thought about the inhabitants who once lived here. He wondered if they ever had a chance to escape. Did this family live on, to see the end of their world? No. It didn't matter. This place had long been forgotten; empty, still, remnants of a bygone era.
When he finally reached street level, standing before the unbroken mansion, Shadow took a moment to gaze upwards. It was a true marvel, what the civilization that came before had accomplished. Taking a deep breath, Shadow gathered his thoughts; he knew it was time to move onward. The old world motor bike was still waiting for him, parked just outside the mansion's front gates, rusted yet beautifully crafted. Just as Shadow began to walk, something flew past his face with tremendous velocity, just narrowly missing him before blowing a hole in the masonry behind him. The sound of gunfire quickly followed. He had been ambushed. Three large Ogres came into view as Shadow rushed behind the motor bike for cover. He quickly surveyed his attackers. All were heavily armored, and the Ogre at the rear was carrying an old world rocket launcher.
...
Xerith found herself walking along a quiet city street, lined with several large homes and mansions. She admired the craftsmanship, amazed that this forgotten community had suffered little damage in the wake of the Catastrophe. Perhaps the extensive network of upper roadways had provided some protection against the destruction that rained from the sky, on that fateful day. She had spent much time here, rummaging through the larger structures for possible salvage to collect and bring back to her homeland. She had in her possession an old world storage device that could shrink objects through some sort of molecular reduction. She didn't understand how the device worked. That knowledge had been lost to time. All that mattered was her clan. Their survival depended upon her success, here, in this forgotten city.
Xerith walked along, when the sound of distant thunder caused her to pause. She looked up, the sky was gray, but that was nothing unusual for life in the Urban Sector. The thunder became more rapid, and came with it a pattern that was very distinctive. It was so quiet between bursts that she could hear what sounded like stonework breaking apart. She crept forward, listening, occasionally jolting, when she finally realized that it was gunfire, just up ahead. Xerith engaged her cloaking device, more old world technology she didn't understand, and scaled the rooftops until she came to a large mansion. In the streets below she caught sight of the lone wanderer she had followed before, holding off three green-skinned ones behind the motor bike he had claimed in the alleyway. She couldn't believe her eyes, was it really him? Had fate brought them together once more? Xerith didn't have time to dwell on such thoughts, she had to act now. Xerith didn't know what provoked the attack, but also knew that she couldn't stand idly by and do nothing. Xerith wouldn't let him fight this battle alone. Not today.
...
Shadow knew the situation was dire. He had never known Ogres to be this organized before. He couldn't help but think, was all this really necessary over an old world motor bike? Still, something about their behavior troubled him greatly. Never mind. Shadow regained his composure, cocking his long rifle in the process. He could do this. He would have to remain steady and true. A shielded Ogre was protecting the one with the rocket launcher, straying ahead only slightly. Shadow felt that removing the shielded Ogre first might prompt the one with the rocket launcher to react uncontrollably. Keep the status quo, Shadow thought to himself. One other beast remained; this one would have to be removed first. Nothing particularly stood out with this Ogre.
Peering over the motor bike, Shadow was poised to fire, when suddenly, out of nowhere; another wanderer appeared on the second floor balcony of the mansion, calling out to him. Cloaked in sand green and wielding twin pistols, the wanderer drew the attention of all three Ogres, even just for a moment, it was enough. Shadow reacted. With two quick precision shots from his long rifle, Shadow incapacitated his intended target as well as the shielded Ogre, both now lying still on the pavement. The shielded Ogre attempted to retract backwards to protect the rear one, but to no avail. Just as Shadow suspected, the remaining Ogre became berserked. Before he could take the shot, the Ogre fired a single rocket upward toward the wanderer on the balcony. The sound of the rocket pierced the air. The wanderer attempted to dodge, but the rocket slammed into the balcony, causing a massive explosion of dust and masonry. The wanderer fell onto the pavement below, lying motionless on the ground. Now unarmed, the Ogre rushed toward Shadow in a frenzy. Shadow's first shot blew the Ogre's helmet apart, leaving the beast's head exposed. One final head shot was enough to take the Ogre down for good.
Shadow rushed over to aid the wanderer who had helped him defeat the Ogres. The wanderer was female, and badly wounded. Still breathing but drifting in and out of consciousness. This was beyond his skill to heal. She needed proper medical attention, and quickly. Shadow feared that she might not make it through the night. He would have to take her to the capital city of Hope, in the center of the Urban Sector, a place he avoided. Shadow had always stayed away from large settlements, preferring to wander alone. None of that mattered now; this wanderer's life depended upon it. Shadow carried her to the motor bike, and drove off into the sunset.
THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!
Aftermarket parts are from Brick Forge, Brick Arms, Brick Warriors, Cape Madness, Amazing/United Armory, Tiny Tactical, Finders Keepers, Battle Brick, and Minifig.Cat.
Special thanks to Family Bricks/Brick Mercenaries for the custom Ogre minifigures:
www.flickr.com/photos/49756387@N02/5234392291/in/dateposted/
Faves, comments, and feedback are appreciated, thank you!
To be continued....
Dusksmoke: “Am I wrong then?”
Harry: “No. Apparently not. You seem similar to how I would intimidate someone. I am a bit fascinated by your speech.”
Dusksmoke: “I appreciate the compliment, but this is not entertainment show talk. The truth is the agent he captured was obviously corrupt. I’ve seen him working with the others. Not bad nor too dumb entirely. The last time in Tokyo, he unleashed his powers hell bent on some bus full of Yakuza. Shockwave.”
Gary: “How did he meet his downfall?”
Dusksmoke: “A bit of a wasted end, even if he had potential. We all know the story, but he gave up for his ambitions. For greed. By the time he was there on that mission, he wasn’t himself anymore. Yet when he was captured. he still managed to retain some sense of humanity himself—even if he risked exposing your secrets but not his team.”
Gardner: “And the bastard killed him because he thought he was staring at the mirror. The goddamn mirror because it looked like him. A reflection of corruption like his younger self.”
Edens: “I don’t see how we can exploit him more but with this little info of weakness, it’s a good start. I’m reviewing the files already.”
Jesse: “Where to next after this discussion for the last three hours?”
Edens: “Find his niece. Take her down.”
***
(London Underground, 1:15 A.M:)
Sabine Rackham was leading her team, with Knifeknight by her side and dozens of ES agents. They were clad in grey, which was basically the common colour of North's clan. Detecting movement scans, she mustered to herself, thinking she had the right spot.
Sabine: “They are close. In London. If you won’t take them down then I will.”
Knifenight: “Knifenight wants money….Knifenight wants more…..”
Sabine: “The full payments can be saved for later. You’re a good asset. You're one of us now.”
Knifenight: “But will he know? Knifenight does not fear anything….no one but him….”
Sabine: “No, trust me, not my uncle. You’re on my team already. He’d be too busy to bother with you. I'm sure you'll be handsomely paid later.”
Knifenight: “Gooooooddd……”
Sabine: “Here it is men. Make a clear shot. Fire.”
ES Agent: “Yes ma’am.”
Rackham smiled, as she activated the bombs to detonate. Bullets rained down from the other side. Nightedge and the opposite team were surprised by the attack above. They didn’t anticipate it fully but were aware of the ES’s concurrent activites. An agent jumped below on the ground, attempting to burst into flames. As he combusted, Lyra and Kurt managed to get a quick snap through their implanted lens., but had to intercept the fire agent's attacks. Luckily, the analysis was transferred to Exosage’s head, who hacked it just in time. Erin’s mind fiddled with the thought of how she envisioned the enemy—they all looked like ghosts. No....as she thought....they looked different.
Erin: “Guys, intercam. I did the dig through. It supports my theory.”
Kieran: “What is?”
Erin: “These soldiers—they’re a reflection of us! It’s supposed to be some taunt North is trying to humiliate us with. And they’re all upgraded with this new armour and tech that is literally unrecognisable from the previous models!”
Ty: “Ok? Then what do you do with it?”
Kurt: “I’m gonna have to call it quits now. My jet pack is damaged. They tore off one of the wings quickly. Sh*t.”
Lyra: “Efficient. I cannot disable them nor absorb them...”
Ty: “There’s gotta be something you can’t not do!”
Erin: “Actually, I still have one more trick up my sleeve. Kieran?”
Kieran: “Good call. We’ll try the blinding thing, I hope it works, just once. This tech of ours should be good enough to stall for a bit. And yes, their back. Any damage to the spine--is sufficient to kill one. Double confirmed. Thanks Erin.”
Ty: “And you’re saying the spines are the weak spot? Man you should have said it a while ago. We gotta stealth now?”
Kurt: “Ok kiddos. You heard the shadow lady. Distract em! Also shoot and kill!”
Despite under heavy fire, Kurt was the first to rush through everything. He threw his broken jet pack in the air, causing a minor chain reaction that he nearly tripped on, which killed 5 agents. Albeit his slight disappointment of having to rebuild one later, he knew he it worked. To the amazement of the team, he was already pulling punches and kicks against the ES agents. “Bet,” he said. And Kieran was the first to laugh uncontrollably under his mask. He began manipulating the matter after being done with close quarters combat.
Lyra nodded at Ty as she absorbed the steel walls, as he began projecting his energy powers that deflected off her body—-a quick way that incapacitated the opponents. His aim managed to bounce off, with a radiating glow that seemingly hit their spines. With a matter of minutes, the agents were down and started retreating, until....Rackham appeared, crashing down from above with her giant axe.
Kieran: “Okay this isn’t give me good vibes because the last villain I ever saw looked like a clear cut old school PlayStation character....”
Ty: “Which probably sucked.”
Erin: “And you’re right boyos.”
Sabine: “Finally. We are here. I would be more than glad to take you in to my uncle.”
Ty: “So I’ve heard....from our buddy Ghostforge huh. You brought more party people along?”
Sabine: “Not big enough? Did you expect a cruise party? I’d like to see how my fun can last for you losers....”
Knifenight: “Oh yes mistress....tis’ I, Knifenight. He is back again. Now gladly joining her ranks in her team.”
Lyra: “Huh, I thought the bastard went off. Third person talking is sooooo weird.”
Sabine: “No, no, no, that’s what I call it re-employment.”
Kurt: “Bit of a gimmick lady...you here to kill us or are you done talking? I’m still waiting for your payback.”
Sabine: “Maybe both. My axe does not like cooling down....you wanna see how it'll burn you to pieces while it can last?”
Sabine then charged at the Paladin team, with her giant axe swinging back and fourth. The clashing of sounds grew. Bullets were useless as Rackham sliced each one of them like child’s play, then the team would have to use their powers against their formidable foes....
***
(Somewhere in Italy, 2:50 A.M:)
Riley: “Oh gosh how long is this gonna fookin last? My bae leaves me with you after your friend took off with him...”
Sam: “Damn. I don’t know. Least to say we’ve been runnin’ and gunnin’...”
Riley: “Ya think those lads made it? Aboot time ainit?”
Sam: “I’m sure they did. Now if you’ll excuse me I gotta reload my rifle.”
Riley: “Pfft. Way to go. I’d rather be steamin...”
Sam: “Something’s not right again....my inner senses are tingling?”
Riley: “Good day to die hard again. What a f**king miserable day. Please do not tell me I have to eat sh*t for dinner twice, I miss my boyfriend enough already."
And in that moment more than 200 ES agents cornered and swarmed in on them. None other than a sudden reappearance of the White Ninja, with the army in his command.
White Ninja: “I told you we would meet again. Now you have seconds to spare—-“
Riley: “F**king cut the crap already ye bampot! You like being a rocket don’t ya?”
White Ninja: “Surrender or die. It is simple. I keep my word and I will do what I must. And yes, your scent is admirable. If I could trace it again, it seems easy.”
Riley: "You arse. Don't f*cking try to lay a hand on me or I'll cut your head to pieces."
White Ninja: "Boldness and stupidity. Very well. Let's see how you can fare well against so many."
Sam: “If you're planning to kill us, it's not gonna happen today. Not on my watch.”
Every year the Nixon Foundation holds “Hometown Heroes Christmas Tree Dedication.” Families are invited to the event which honors Southern Californian service men & women who lost their lives in recent wars & 9/11. Ornaments bearing the names of lost loved ones are placed on the tree by family members & later mailed to the families. We are there for a cousin, killed in Iraq in 2007.
The ceremony is very respectful (& is neither Democratic nor Republican [like us] although it is held in the Nixon Library). The Library, in Nixon's hometown of Yorba Linda, hosts this event; it has a beautiful garden, & in my opinion, a very balanced view of Nixon. There is an engaging gallery that goes through his entire life, the incredible highs & lows. It highlights his admirable intentions & qualities, as well as his shortcomings, including a large section on Watergate.
The other thing I always think about when I attend this event, is the men & women whose lives ended in their late teens or early 20’s. Especially when there was a draft, imagine arriving at a beach just when a tsunami hits - you are just getting started in life & are swept up by a massive uncontrollable event (war) that ends your life. This thought is universal, it applies to all young people who die anywhere in the world, in any conflict, that had precipitating origins before they became adults.
Thanks for viewing & reading my reflections. Isn’t contemplation one of the purposes of Memorial Day, a day to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice?
Another image for memorial day:
The Postcard
A postally unused postcard that was published by Fotofolio of Box 661, Canal Sta., NY, NY. The photography was by Rollie McKenna. The card has a divided back.
Dylan Thomas
Dylan Marlais Thomas, who was born in Swansea on the 27th. October 1914, was a Welsh poet and writer whose works include the poems 'Do not go Gentle Into That Good Night' and 'And Death Shall Have No Dominion.'
Dylan's other work included 'Under Milk Wood' as well as stories and radio broadcasts such as 'A Child's Christmas in Wales' and 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog'.
He became widely popular in his lifetime, and remained so after his death at the age of 39 in New York City. By then he had acquired a reputation, which he had encouraged, as a roistering, drunken and doomed poet.
In 1931, when he was 16, Thomas, an undistinguished pupil, left school to become a reporter for the South Wales Daily Post, only to leave under pressure 18 months later.
Many of his works appeared in print while he was still a teenager. In 1934, the publication of 'Light Breaks Where no Sun Shines' caught the attention of the literary world.
While living in London, Thomas met Caitlin Macnamara. They married in 1937, and had three children: Llewelyn, Aeronwy and Colm.
Thomas came to be appreciated as a popular poet during his lifetime, though he found it hard to earn a living as a writer. He began augmenting his income with reading tours and radio broadcasts. His radio recordings for the BBC during the late 1940's brought him to the public's attention, and he was frequently used by the BBC as an accessible voice of the literary scene.
Thomas first travelled to the United States in the 1950's. His readings there brought him a degree of fame, while his erratic behaviour and drinking worsened. His time in the United States cemented his legend, however, and he went on to record to vinyl such works as 'A Child's Christmas in Wales'.
During his fourth trip to New York in 1953, Thomas became gravely ill and fell into a coma. He died on the 9th. November 1953, and his body was returned to Wales. On the 25th. November 1953, he was laid to rest in St Martin's churchyard in Laugharne, Carmarthenshire.
Although Thomas wrote exclusively in the English language, he has been acknowledged as one of the most important Welsh poets of the 20th century. He is noted for his original, rhythmic and ingenious use of words and imagery. He is regarded by many as one of the great modern poets, and he still remains popular with the public.
-- Dylan Thomas - The Early Years
Dylan was born at 5 Cwmdonkin Drive, the son of Florence Hannah (née Williams; 1882–1958), a seamstress, and David John Thomas (1876–1952), a teacher. His father had a first-class honours degree in English from University College, Aberystwyth and ambitions to rise above his position teaching English literature at the local grammar school.
Thomas had one sibling, Nancy Marles (1906–1953), who was eight years his senior. The children spoke only English, though their parents were bilingual in English and Welsh, and David Thomas gave Welsh lessons at home.
Thomas's father chose the name Dylan, which means 'Son of the Sea', after Dylan ail Don, a character in The Mabinogion. Dylan's middle name, Marlais, was given in honour of his great-uncle, William Thomas, a Unitarian minister and poet whose bardic name was Gwilym Marles.
Dylan caused his mother to worry that he might be teased as the 'Dull One.' When he broadcast on Welsh BBC, early in his career, he was introduced using this pronunciation. Thomas favoured the Anglicised pronunciation, and gave instructions that it should be spoken as 'Dillan.'
The red-brick semi-detached house at 5 Cwmdonkin Drive (in the respectable area of the Uplands), in which Thomas was born and lived until he was 23, had been bought by his parents a few months before his birth.
Dylan's childhood featured regular summer trips to the Llansteffan Peninsula, a Welsh-speaking part of Carmarthenshire, where his maternal relatives were the sixth generation to farm there.
In the land between Llangain and Llansteffan, his mother's family, the Williamses and their close relatives, worked a dozen farms with over a thousand acres between them. The memory of Fernhill, a dilapidated 15-acre farm rented by his maternal aunt, Ann Jones, and her husband, Jim, is evoked in the 1945 lyrical poem 'Fern Hill', but is portrayed more accurately in his short story, 'The Peaches'.
Thomas had bronchitis and asthma in childhood, and struggled with these throughout his life. He was indulged by his mother and enjoyed being mollycoddled, a trait he carried into adulthood, and he was skilful in gaining attention and sympathy.
Thomas's formal education began at Mrs Hole's Dame School, a private school on Mirador Crescent, a few streets away from his home. He described his experience there in Reminiscences of Childhood:
"Never was there such a dame school as ours,
so firm and kind and smelling of galoshes, with
the sweet and fumbled music of the piano lessons
drifting down from upstairs to the lonely schoolroom,
where only the sometimes tearful wicked sat over
undone sums, or to repent a little crime – the pulling
of a girl's hair during geography, the sly shin kick
under the table during English literature".
In October 1925, Dylan Thomas enrolled at Swansea Grammar School for boys, in Mount Pleasant, where his father taught English. He was an undistinguished pupil who shied away from school, preferring reading.
In his first year, one of his poems was published in the school's magazine, and before he left he became its editor. In June 1928, Thomas won the school's mile race, held at St. Helen's Ground; he carried a newspaper photograph of his victory with him until his death.
During his final school years Dylan began writing poetry in notebooks; the first poem, dated 27th. April 1930, is entitled 'Osiris, Come to Isis'.
In 1931, when he was 16, Thomas left school to become a reporter for the South Wales Daily Post, only to leave under pressure 18 months later. Thomas continued to work as a freelance journalist for several years, during which time he remained at Cwmdonkin Drive and continued to add to his notebooks, amassing 200 poems in four books between 1930 and 1934. Of the 90 poems he published, half were written during these years.
In his free time, Dylan joined the amateur dramatic group at the Little Theatre in Mumbles, visited the cinema in Uplands, took walks along Swansea Bay, and frequented Swansea's pubs, especially the Antelope and the Mermaid Hotels in Mumbles.
In the Kardomah Café, close to the newspaper office in Castle Street, he met his creative contemporaries, including his friend the poet Vernon Watkins.
-- 1933–1939
In 1933, Thomas visited London for probably the first time.
Thomas was a teenager when many of the poems for which he became famous were published:
-- 'And Death Shall Have no Dominion'
-- 'Before I Knocked'
-- 'The Force That Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower'.
'And Death Shall Have no Dominion' appeared in the New English Weekly in May 1933:
'And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the
west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and
the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they
shall rise again
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion'.
When 'Light Breaks Where no Sun Shines' appeared in The Listener in 1934, it caught the attention of three senior figures in literary London - T. S. Eliot, Geoffrey Grigson and Stephen Spender. They contacted Thomas, and his first poetry volume, '18 Poems', was published in December 1934.
'18 Poems' was noted for its visionary qualities which led to critic Desmond Hawkins writing that:
"The work is the sort of bomb
that bursts no more than once
in three years".
The volume was critically acclaimed, and won a contest run by the Sunday Referee, netting him new admirers from the London poetry world, including Edith Sitwell and Edwin Muir. The anthology was published by Fortune Press, in part a vanity publisher that did not pay its writers, and expected them to buy a certain number of copies themselves. A similar arrangement was used by other new authors, including Philip Larkin.
In September 1935, Thomas met Vernon Watkins, thus beginning a lifelong friendship. Dylan introduced Watkins, working at Lloyds Bank at the time, to his friends. The group of writers, musicians and artists became known as "The Kardomah Gang".
In those days, Thomas used to frequent the cinema on Mondays with Tom Warner who, like Watkins, had recently suffered a nervous breakdown. After these trips, Warner would bring Thomas back for supper with his aunt.
On one occasion, when she served him a boiled egg, she had to cut its top off for him, as Thomas did not know how to do this. This was because his mother had done it for him all his life, an example of her coddling him. Years later, his wife Caitlin would still have to prepare his eggs for him.
In December 1935, Thomas contributed the poem 'The Hand That Signed the Paper' to Issue 18 of the bi-monthly New Verse.
In 1936, Dylan's next collection 'Twenty-five Poems' received much critical praise. In 1938, Thomas won the Oscar Blumenthal Prize for Poetry; it was also the year in which New Directions offered to be his publisher in the United States. In all, he wrote half his poems while living at Cwmdonkin Drive before moving to London. It was the time that Thomas's reputation for heavy drinking developed.
In early 1936, Thomas met Caitlin Macnamara (1913–94), a 22-year-old blonde-haired, blue-eyed dancer of Irish and French descent. She had run away from home, intent on making a career in dance, and at the age of 18 joined the chorus line at the London Palladium.
Introduced by Augustus John, Caitlin's lover, they met in The Wheatsheaf pub on Rathbone Place in London's West End. Laying his head on her lap, a drunken Thomas proposed. Thomas liked to comment that he and Caitlin were in bed together ten minutes after they first met.
Although Caitlin initially continued her relationship with Augustus John, she and Thomas began a correspondence, and by the second half of 1936 they were courting. They married at the register office in Penzance, Cornwall, on the 11th. July 1937.
In early 1938, they moved to Wales, renting a cottage in the village of Laugharne, Carmarthenshire. Their first child, Llewelyn Edouard, was born on the 30th. January 1939.
By the late 1930's, Thomas was embraced as the "Poetic Herald" for a group of English poets, the New Apocalyptics. However Thomas refused to align himself with them, and declined to sign their manifesto.
He later stated that:
"They are intellectual muckpots
leaning on a theory".
Despite Dylan's rejection, many of the group, including Henry Treece, modelled their work on Thomas's.
During the politically charged atmosphere of the 1930's, Thomas's sympathies were very much with the radical left, to the point of holding close links with the communists, as well as being decidedly pacifist and anti-fascist. He was a supporter of the left-wing No More War Movement, and boasted about participating in demonstrations against the British Union of Fascists.
-- 1939–1945
In 1939, a collection of 16 poems and seven of the 20 short stories published by Thomas in magazines since 1934, appeared as 'The Map of Love'.
Ten stories in his next book, 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog' (1940), were based less on lavish fantasy than those in 'The Map of Love', and more on real-life romances featuring himself in Wales.
Sales of both books were poor, resulting in Thomas living on meagre fees from writing and reviewing. At this time he borrowed heavily from friends and acquaintances.
Hounded by creditors, Thomas and his family left Laugharne in July 1940 and moved to the home of critic John Davenport in Marshfield, Gloucestershire. There Thomas collaborated with Davenport on the satire 'The Death of the King's Canary', though due to fears of libel, the work was not published until 1976.
At the outset of the Second World War, Thomas was worried about conscription, and referred to his ailment as "An Unreliable Lung".
Coughing sometimes confined him to bed, and he had a history of bringing up blood and mucus. After initially seeking employment in a reserved occupation, he managed to be classified Grade III, which meant that he would be among the last to be called up for service.
Saddened to see his friends going on active service, Dylan continued drinking, and struggled to support his family. He wrote begging letters to random literary figures asking for support, a plan he hoped would provide a long-term regular income. Thomas supplemented his income by writing scripts for the BBC, which not only gave him additional earnings but also provided evidence that he was engaged in essential war work.
In February 1941, Swansea was bombed by the Luftwaffe in a three night blitz. Castle Street was one of many streets that suffered badly; rows of shops, including the Kardomah Café, were destroyed. Thomas walked through the bombed-out shell of the town centre with his friend Bert Trick. Upset at the sight, he concluded:
"Our Swansea is dead".
Soon after the bombing raids, he wrote a radio play, 'Return Journey Home', which described the café as being "razed to the snow". The play was first broadcast on the 15th. June 1947. The Kardomah Café reopened on Portland Street after the war.
In May 1941, Thomas and Caitlin left their son with his grandmother at Blashford and moved to London. Thomas hoped to find employment in the film industry, and wrote to the director of the films division of the Ministry of Information (MOI). After initially being rebuffed, he found work with Strand Films, providing him with his first regular income since the Daily Post. Strand produced films for the MOI; Thomas scripted at least five films in 1942.
In five film projects, between 1942 and 1945, the Ministry of Information (MOI) commissioned Thomas to script a series of documentaries about both urban planning and wartime patriotism, all in partnership with director John Eldridge:
-- 'Wales: Green Mountain, Black Mountain'.
-- 'New Towns for Old' (on post-war reconstruction).
-- 'Fuel for Battle'.
-- 'Our Country' (1945) was a romantic tour of Great
Britain set to Thomas's poetry.
-- 'A City Reborn'.
Other projects included:
-- 'This Is Colour' (a history of the British dyeing industry).
-- 'These Are The Men' (1943), a more ambitious piece in which Thomas's verse accompanied Leni Riefenstahl's
footage of an early Nuremberg Rally.
-- 'Conquest of a Germ' (1944) explored the use of early antibiotics in the fight against pneumonia and tuberculosis.
In early 1943, Thomas began a relationship with Pamela Glendower; one of several affairs he had during his marriage. The affairs either ran out of steam or were halted after Caitlin discovered his infidelity.
In March 1943, Caitlin gave birth to a daughter, Aeronwy, in London. They lived in a run-down studio in Chelsea, made up of a single large room with a curtain to separate the kitchen.
The Thomas family made several escapes back to Wales during the war. Between 1941 and 1943, they lived intermittently in Plas Gelli, Talsarn, in Cardiganshire. Plas Gelli sits close by the River Aeron, after whom Aeronwy is thought to have been named. Some of Thomas’ letters from Gelli can be found in his 'Collected Letters'.
The Thomases shared the mansion with his childhood friends from Swansea, Vera and Evelyn Phillips. Vera's friendship with the Thomases in nearby New Quay is portrayed in the 2008 film, 'The Edge of Love'.
In July 1944, with the threat of German flying bombs landing on London, Thomas moved to the family cottage at Blaencwm near Llangain, Carmarthenshire, where he resumed writing poetry, completing 'Holy Spring' and 'Vision and Prayer'.
In September 1944, the Thomas family moved to New Quay in Cardiganshire (Ceredigion), where they rented Majoda, a wood and asbestos bungalow on the cliffs overlooking Cardigan Bay. It was here that Thomas wrote the radio piece 'Quite Early One Morning', a sketch for his later work, 'Under Milk Wood'.
Of the poetry written at this time, of note is 'Fern Hill', believed to have been started while living in New Quay, but completed at Blaencwm in mid-1945. Dylan's first biographer, Constantine FitzGibbon wrote that:
"His nine months in New Quay were a second
flowering, a period of fertility that recalls the
earliest days, with a great outpouring of poems
and a good deal of other material".
His second biographer, Paul Ferris, concurred:
"On the grounds of output, the bungalow
deserves a plaque of its own."
The Dylan Thomas scholar, Walford Davies, has noted that:
"New Quay was crucial in supplementing
the gallery of characters Thomas had to
hand for writing 'Under Milk Wood'."
-- Dylan Thomas's Broadcasting Years 1945–1949
Although Thomas had previously written for the BBC, it was a minor and intermittent source of income. In 1943, he wrote and recorded a 15-minute talk entitled 'Reminiscences of Childhood' for the Welsh BBC.
In December 1944, he recorded 'Quite Early One Morning' (produced by Aneirin Talfan Davies, again for the Welsh BBC), but when Davies offered it for national broadcast, BBC London initially turned it down.
However on the 31st. August 1945, the BBC Home Service broadcast 'Quite Early One Morning' nationally, and in the three subsequent years, Dylan made over a hundred broadcasts for the BBC, not only for his poetry readings, but for discussions and critiques.
In the second half of 1945, Dylan began reading for the BBC Radio programme, 'Book of Verse', that was broadcast weekly to the Far East. This provided Thomas with a regular income, and brought him into contact with Louis MacNeice, a congenial drinking companion whose advice Thomas cherished.
On the 29th. September 1946, the BBC began transmitting the Third Programme, a high-culture network which provided further opportunities for Thomas.
He appeared in the play 'Comus' for the Third Programme, the day after the network launched, and his rich, sonorous voice led to character parts, including the lead in Aeschylus's 'Agamemnon', and Satan in an adaptation of 'Paradise Lost'.
Thomas remained a popular guest on radio talk shows for the BBC, who stated:
"He is useful should a younger
generation poet be needed".
He had an uneasy relationship with BBC management, and a staff job was never an option, with drinking cited as the problem. Despite this, Thomas became a familiar radio voice and well-known celebrity within Great Britain.
By late September 1945, the Thomases had left Wales, and were living with various friends in London. In December, they moved to Oxford to live in a summerhouse on the banks of the Cherwell. It belonged to the historian, A. J. P. Taylor. His wife, Margaret, became Thomas’s most committed patron.
The publication of 'Deaths and Entrances' in February 1946 was a major turning point for Thomas. Poet and critic Walter J. Turner commented in The Spectator:
"This book alone, in my opinion,
ranks him as a major poet".
From 'In my Craft or Sullen Art,' 'Deaths and Entrances' (1946):
'Not for the proud man apart
From the raging moon, I write
On these spindrift pages
Nor for the towering dead
With their nightingales and psalms
But for the lovers, their arms
Round the griefs of the ages,
Who pay no praise or wages
Nor heed my craft or art'.
The following year, in April 1947, the Thomases travelled to Italy, after Thomas had been awarded a Society of Authors scholarship. They stayed first in villas near Rapallo and then Florence, before moving to a hotel in Rio Marina on the island of Elba.
On their return to England Thomas and his family moved, in September 1947, into the Manor House in South Leigh, just west of Oxford, found for him by Margaret Taylor.
He continued with his work for the BBC, completed a number of film scripts, and worked further on his ideas for 'Under Milk Wood'.
In March 1949 Thomas travelled to Prague. He had been invited by the Czech government to attend the inauguration of the Czechoslovak Writers' Union. Jiřina Hauková, who had previously published translations of some of Thomas' poems, was his guide and interpreter.
In her memoir, Hauková recalls that at a party in Prague, Thomas narrated the first version of his radio play 'Under Milk Wood.' She describes how he outlined the plot about a town that was declared insane, and then portrayed the predicament of an eccentric organist and a baker with two wives.
A month later, in May 1949, Thomas and his family moved to his final home, the Boat House at Laugharne, purchased for him at a cost of £2,500 in April 1949 by Margaret Taylor.
Thomas acquired a garage a hundred yards from the house on a cliff ledge which he turned into his writing shed, and where he wrote several of his most acclaimed poems. To see a photograph of the interior of Dylan's shed, please search for the tag 55DTW96
Just before moving into the Boat House, Thomas rented Pelican House opposite his regular drinking den, Brown's Hotel, for his parents. They both lived there from 1949 until Dylan's father 'D.J.' died on the 16th. December 1952. His mother continued to live there until 1953.
Caitlin gave birth to their third child, a boy named Colm Garan Hart, on the 25th. July 1949.
In October 1949, the New Zealand poet Allen Curnow came to visit Thomas at the Boat House, who took him to his writing shed. Curnow recalls:
"Dylan fished out a draft to show me
of the unfinished 'Under Milk Wood'
that was then called 'The Town That
Was Mad'."
-- Dylan Thomas's American tours, 1950–1953
(a) The First American Tour
The American poet John Brinnin invited Thomas to New York, where in 1950 they embarked on a lucrative three-month tour of arts centres and campuses.
The tour, which began in front of an audience of a thousand at the Kaufmann Auditorium in the Poetry Centre in New York, took in a further 40 venues. During the tour, Thomas was invited to many parties and functions, and on several occasions became drunk - going out of his way to shock people - and was a difficult guest.
Dylan drank before some of his readings, although it is argued that he may have pretended to be more affected by the alcohol than he actually was.
The writer Elizabeth Hardwick recalled how intoxicated a performer he could be, and how the tension would build before a performance:
"Would he arrive only to break
down on the stage?
Would some dismaying scene
take place at the faculty party?
Would he be offensive, violent,
obscene?"
Dylan's wife Caitlin said in her memoir:
"Nobody ever needed encouragement
less, and he was drowned in it."
On returning to Great Britain, Thomas began work on two further poems, 'In the White Giant's Thigh', which he read on the Third Programme in September 1950:
'Who once were a bloom of wayside
brides in the hawed house
And heard the lewd, wooed field
flow to the coming frost,
The scurrying, furred small friars
squeal in the dowse
Of day, in the thistle aisles, till the
white owl crossed.'
He also worked on the incomplete 'In Country Heaven'.
In October 1950, Thomas sent a draft of the first 39 pages of 'The Town That Was Mad' to the BBC. The task of seeing this work through to production was assigned to the BBC's Douglas Cleverdon, who had been responsible for casting Thomas in 'Paradise Lost'.
However, despite Cleverdon's urgings, the script slipped from Thomas's priorities, and in early 1951 he took a trip to Iran to work on a film for the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company. The film was never made, with Thomas returning to Wales in February, though his time there allowed him to provide a few minutes of material for a BBC documentary, 'Persian Oil'.
Early in 1951 Thomas wrote two poems, which Thomas's principal biographer, Paul Ferris, describes as "unusually blunt." One was the ribald 'Lament', and the other was an ode, in the form of a villanelle, to his dying father 'Do not go Gentle Into That Good Night". (A villanelle is a pastoral or lyrical poem of nineteen lines, with only two rhymes throughout, and some lines repeated).
Despite a range of wealthy patrons, including Margaret Taylor, Princess Marguerite Caetani and Marged Howard-Stepney, Thomas was still in financial difficulty, and he wrote several begging letters to notable literary figures, including the likes of T. S. Eliot.
Margaret Taylor was not keen on Thomas taking another trip to the United States, and thought that if he had a permanent address in London he would be able to gain steady work there. She bought a property, 54 Delancey Street, in Camden Town, and in late 1951 Thomas and Caitlin lived in the basement flat. Thomas described the flat as his "London House of Horror", and did not return there after his 1952 tour of America.
(b) The Second American Tour
Thomas undertook a second tour of the United States in 1952, this time with Caitlin - after she had discovered that he had been unfaithful on his earlier trip. They drank heavily, and Thomas began to suffer with gout and lung problems.
It was during this tour that the above photograph was taken.
The second tour was the most intensive of the four, taking in 46 engagements.
The trip also resulted in Thomas recording his first poetry to vinyl, which Caedmon Records released in America later that year. One of his works recorded during this time, 'A Child's Christmas in Wales', became his most popular prose work in America. The recording was a 2008 selection for the United States National Recording Registry, which stated that:
"It is credited with launching the
audiobook industry in the United
States".
(c) The Third American Tour
In April 1953, Thomas returned alone for a third tour of America. He performed a "work in progress" version of 'Under Milk Wood', solo, for the first time at Harvard University on the 3rd. May 1953. A week later, the work was performed with a full cast at the Poetry Centre in New York.
Dylan met the deadline only after being locked in a room by Brinnin's assistant, Liz Reitell, and was still editing the script on the afternoon of the performance; its last lines were handed to the actors as they put on their makeup.
During this penultimate tour, Thomas met the composer Igor Stravinsky. Igor had become an admirer of Dylan after having been introduced to his poetry by W. H. Auden. They had discussions about collaborating on a "musical theatrical work" for which Dylan would provide the libretto on the theme of:
"The rediscovery of love and
language in what might be left
after the world after the bomb."
The shock of Thomas's death later in the year moved Stravinsky to compose his 'In Memoriam Dylan Thomas' for tenor, string quartet and four trombones. The work's first performance in Los Angeles in 1954 was introduced with a tribute to Thomas from Aldous Huxley.
Thomas spent the last nine or ten days of his third tour in New York mostly in the company of Reitell, with whom he had an affair.
During this time, Thomas fractured his arm falling down a flight of stairs when drunk. Reitell's doctor, Milton Feltenstein, put his arm in plaster, and treated him for gout and gastritis.
After returning home, Thomas worked on 'Under Milk Wood' in Wales before sending the original manuscript to Douglas Cleverdon on the 15th. October 1953. It was copied and returned to Thomas, who lost it in a pub in London and required a duplicate to take to America.
(d) The Fourth American Tour
Thomas flew to the States on the 19th. October 1953 for what would be his final tour. He died in New York before the BBC could record 'Under Milk Wood'. Richard Burton featured in its first broadcast in 1954, and was joined by Elizabeth Taylor in a subsequent film. In 1954, the play won the Prix Italia for literary or dramatic programmes.
Thomas's last collection 'Collected Poems, 1934–1952', published when he was 38, won the Foyle poetry prize. Reviewing the volume, critic Philip Toynbee declared that:
"Thomas is the greatest living
poet in the English language".
There followed a series of distressing events for Dylan. His father died from pneumonia just before Christmas 1952. In the first few months of 1953, his sister died from liver cancer, one of his patrons took an overdose of sleeping pills, three friends died at an early age, and Caitlin had an abortion.
Thomas left Laugharne on the 9th. October 1953 on the first leg of his trip to America. He called on his mother, Florence, to say goodbye:
"He always felt that he had to get
out from this country because of
his chest being so bad."
Thomas had suffered from chest problems for most of his life, though they began in earnest soon after he moved in May 1949 to the Boat House at Laugharne - the "Bronchial Heronry", as he called it. Within weeks of moving in, he visited a local doctor, who prescribed medicine for both his chest and throat.
Whilst waiting in London before his flight in October 1953, Thomas stayed with the comedian Harry Locke and worked on 'Under Milk Wood'. Locke noted that Thomas was having trouble with his chest, with terrible coughing fits that made him go purple in the face. He was also using an inhaler to help his breathing.
There were reports, too, that Thomas was also having blackouts. His visit to the BBC producer Philip Burton a few days before he left for New York, was interrupted by a blackout. On his last night in London, he had another in the company of his fellow poet Louis MacNeice.
Thomas arrived in New York on the 20th. October 1953 to undertake further performances of 'Under Milk Wood', organised by John Brinnin, his American agent and Director of the Poetry Centre. Brinnin did not travel to New York, but remained in Boston in order to write.
He handed responsibility to his assistant, Liz Reitell, who was keen to see Thomas for the first time since their three-week romance early in the year. She met Thomas at Idlewild Airport and was shocked at his appearance. He looked pale, delicate and shaky, not his usual robust self:
"He was very ill when he got here."
After being taken by Reitell to check in at the Chelsea Hotel, Thomas took the first rehearsal of 'Under Milk Wood'. They then went to the White Horse Tavern in Greenwich Village, before returning to the Chelsea Hotel.
(Bob Dylan, formerly Robert Zimmerman, used to perform at the White Horse; Dylan Thomas was his favourite poet, and it is highly likely that Bob adopted Dylan's first name as his surname).
The next day, Reitell invited Thomas to her apartment, but he declined. They went sightseeing, but Thomas felt unwell, and retired to his bed for the rest of the afternoon. Reitell gave him half a grain (32.4 milligrams) of phenobarbitone to help him sleep, and spent the night at the hotel with him.
Two days later, on the 23rd. October 1953, at the third rehearsal, Thomas said he was too ill to take part, but he struggled on, shivering and burning with fever, before collapsing on the stage.
The next day, 24th. October, Reitell took Thomas to see her doctor, Milton Feltenstein, who administered cortisone injections. Thomas made it through the first performance that evening, but collapsed immediately afterwards.
Dylan told a friend who had come back-stage:
"This circus out there has taken
the life out of me for now."
Reitell later said:
"Feltenstein was rather a wild doctor
who thought injections would cure
anything".
At the next performance on the 25th. October, his fellow actors realised that Thomas was very ill:
"He was desperately ill…we didn’t think
that he would be able to do the last
performance because he was so ill…
Dylan literally couldn’t speak he was so
ill…still my greatest memory of it is that
he had no voice."
On the evening of the 27th. October, Thomas attended his 39th. birthday party, but felt unwell, and returned to his hotel after an hour. The next day, he took part in 'Poetry and the Film', a recorded symposium at Cinema 16.
A turning point came on the 2nd. November. Air pollution in New York had risen significantly, and exacerbated chest illnesses such as Thomas's. By the end of the month, over 200 New Yorkers had died from the smog.
On the 3rd. November, Thomas spent most of the day in his room, entertaining various friends. He went out in the evening to keep two drink appointments. After returning to the hotel, he went out again for a drink at 2 am. After drinking at the White Horse, Thomas returned to the Hotel Chelsea, declaring:
"I've had eighteen straight
whiskies. I think that's the
record!"
However the barman and the owner of the pub who served him later commented that Thomas could not have drunk more than half that amount, although the barman could have been trying to exonerate himself from any blame.
Thomas had an appointment at a clam house in New Jersey with Todd on the 4th. November. When Todd telephoned the Chelsea that morning, Thomas said he was feeling ill, and postponed the engagement. Todd thought that Dylan sounded "terrible".
The poet, Harvey Breit, was another to phone that morning. He thought that Thomas sounded "bad". Thomas' voice, recalled Breit, was "low and hoarse". Harvey had wanted to say:
"You sound as though from the tomb".
However instead Harvey told Thomas that he sounded like Louis Armstrong.
Later, Thomas went drinking with Reitell at the White Horse and, feeling sick again, returned to the hotel. Dr. Feltenstein came to see him three times that day, administering the cortisone secretant ACTH by injection and, on his third visit, half a grain (32.4 milligrams) of morphine sulphate, which affected Thomas' breathing.
Reitell became increasingly concerned, and telephoned Feltenstein for advice. He suggested that she get male assistance, so she called upon the artist Jack Heliker, who arrived before 11 pm. At midnight on the 5th. November, Thomas's breathing became more difficult, and his face turned blue.
Reitell phoned Feltenstein who arrived at the hotel at about 1 am, and called for an ambulance. It then took another hour for the ambulance to arrive at St. Vincent's, even though it was only a few blocks from the Chelsea.
Thomas was admitted to the emergency ward at St Vincent's Hospital at 1:58 am. He was comatose, and his medical notes stated that:
"The impression upon admission was acute
alcoholic encephalopathy damage to the brain
by alcohol, for which the patient was treated
without response".
Feltenstein then took control of Thomas's care, even though he did not have admitting rights at St. Vincent's. The hospital's senior brain specialist, Dr. C. G. Gutierrez-Mahoney, was not called to examine Thomas until the afternoon of the 6th. November, thirty-six hours after Thomas' admission.
Dylan's wife Caitlin flew to America the following day, and was taken to the hospital, by which time a tracheotomy had been performed. Her reported first words were:
"Is the bloody man dead yet?"
Caitlin was allowed to see Thomas only for 40 minutes in the morning, but returned in the afternoon and, in a drunken rage, threatened to kill John Brinnin. When she became uncontrollable, she was put in a straitjacket and committed, by Feltenstein, to the River Crest private psychiatric detox clinic on Long Island.
It is now believed that Thomas had been suffering from bronchitis, pneumonia and emphysema before his admission to St Vincent's. In their 2004 paper, 'Death by Neglect', D. N. Thomas and Dr Simon Barton disclose that Thomas was found to have pneumonia when he was admitted to hospital in a coma.
Doctors took three hours to restore his breathing, using artificial respiration and oxygen. Summarising their findings, they conclude:
"The medical notes indicate that, on admission,
Dylan's bronchial disease was found to be very
extensive, affecting upper, mid and lower lung
fields, both left and right."
The forensic pathologist, Professor Bernard Knight, concurs:
"Death was clearly due to a severe lung infection
with extensive advanced bronchopneumonia.
The severity of the chest infection, with greyish
consolidated areas of well-established pneumonia,
suggests that it had started before admission to
hospital."
Thomas died at noon on the 9th. November 1953, having never recovered from his coma. He was 39 years of age when he died.
-- Aftermath of Dylan Thomas's Death
Rumours circulated of a brain haemorrhage, followed by competing reports of a mugging, or even that Thomas had drunk himself to death. Later, speculation arose about drugs and diabetes.
At the post-mortem, the pathologist found three causes of death - pneumonia, brain swelling and a fatty liver. Despite Dylan's heavy drinking, his liver showed no sign of cirrhosis.
The publication of John Brinnin's 1955 biography 'Dylan Thomas in America' cemented Thomas's legacy as the "doomed poet". Brinnin focuses on Thomas's last few years, and paints a picture of him as a drunk and a philanderer.
Later biographies have criticised Brinnin's view, especially his coverage of Thomas's death. David Thomas in 'Fatal Neglect: Who Killed Dylan Thomas?' claims that Brinnin, along with Reitell and Feltenstein, were culpable.
FitzGibbon's 1965 biography ignores Thomas's heavy drinking and skims over his death, giving just two pages in his detailed book to Thomas's demise.
Ferris in his 1989 biography includes Thomas's heavy drinking, but is more critical of those around him in his final days, and does not draw the conclusion that he drank himself to death.
Many sources have criticised Feltenstein's role and actions, especially his incorrect diagnosis of delirium tremens and the high dose of morphine he administered. Dr C. G. de Gutierrez-Mahoney, the doctor who treated Thomas while at St. Vincent's, concluded that Feltenstein's failure to see that Thomas was gravely ill and have him admitted to hospital sooner was even more culpable than his use of morphine.
Caitlin Thomas's autobiographies, 'Caitlin Thomas - Leftover Life to Kill' (1957) and 'My Life with Dylan Thomas: Double Drink Story' (1997), describe the effects of alcohol on the poet and on their relationship:
"Ours was not only a love story, it was
a drink story, because without alcohol
it would never had got on its rocking
feet. The bar was our altar."
Biographer Andrew Lycett ascribed the decline in Thomas's health to an alcoholic co-dependent relationship with his wife, who deeply resented his extramarital affairs.
In contrast, Dylan biographers Andrew Sinclair and George Tremlett express the view that Thomas was not an alcoholic. Tremlett argues that many of Thomas's health issues stemmed from undiagnosed diabetes.
Thomas died intestate, with assets worth £100. His body was brought back to Wales for burial in the village churchyard at Laugharne. Dylan's funeral, which Brinnin did not attend, took place at St Martin's Church in Laugharne on the 24th. November 1953.
Six friends from the village carried Thomas's coffin. Caitlin, without her customary hat, walked behind the coffin, with his childhood friend Daniel Jones at her arm and her mother by her side. The procession to the church was filmed, and the wake took place at Brown's Hotel. Thomas's fellow poet and long-time friend Vernon Watkins wrote The Times obituary.
Thomas's widow, Caitlin, died in 1994, and was laid to rest alongside him. Dylan's mother Florence died in August 1958. Thomas's elder son, Llewelyn, died in 2000, his daughter, Aeronwy in 2009, and his youngest son Colm in 2012.
-- Dylan Thomas's Poetry
Thomas's refusal to align with any literary group or movement has made him and his work difficult to categorise. Although influenced by the modern symbolism and surrealism movements, he refused to follow such creeds. Instead, critics view Thomas as part of the modernism and romanticism movements, though attempts to pigeon-hole him within a particular neo-romantic school have been unsuccessful.
Elder Olson, in his 1954 critical study of Thomas's poetry, wrote:
"There is a further characteristic which
distinguished Thomas's work from that
of other poets. It was unclassifiable."
Olson went on to say that in a postmodern age that continually attempted to demand that poetry have social reference, none could be found in Thomas's work, and that his work was so obscure that critics could not analyse it.
Thomas's verbal style played against strict verse forms, such as in the villanelle 'Do not go Gentle Into That Good Night'.
His images appear carefully ordered in a patterned sequence, and his major theme was the unity of all life, the continuing process of life and death, and new life that linked the generations.
Thomas saw biology as a magical transformation producing unity out of diversity, and in his poetry sought a poetic ritual to celebrate this unity. He saw men and women locked in cycles of growth, love, procreation, new growth, death, and new life. Therefore, each image engenders its opposite.
Thomas derived his closely woven, sometimes self-contradictory images from the Bible, Welsh folklore, preaching, and Sigmund Freud. Explaining the source of his imagery, Thomas wrote in a letter to Glyn Jones:
"My own obscurity is quite an unfashionable one,
based, as it is, on a preconceived symbolism
derived (I'm afraid all this sounds woolly and
pretentious) from the cosmic significance of the
human anatomy".
Thomas's early poetry was noted for its verbal density, alliteration, sprung rhythm and internal rhyme, and some critics detected the influence of the English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. Hopkins, had taught himself Welsh, and used sprung verse, bringing some features of Welsh poetic metre into his work.
However when Henry Treece wrote to Thomas comparing his style to that of Hopkins, Thomas wrote back denying any such influence. Thomas greatly admired Thomas Hardy, who is regarded as an influence. When Thomas travelled in America, he recited some of Hardy's work in his readings.
Other poets from whom critics believe Thomas drew influence include James Joyce, Arthur Rimbaud and D. H. Lawrence.
William York Tindall, in his 1962 study, 'A Reader's Guide to Dylan Thomas', finds comparison between Thomas's and Joyce's wordplay, while he notes the themes of rebirth and nature are common to the works of Lawrence and Thomas.
Although Thomas described himself as the "Rimbaud of Cwmdonkin Drive", he stated that the phrase "Swansea's Rimbaud" was coined by the poet Roy Campbell.
Critics have explored the origins of Thomas's mythological pasts in his works such as 'The Orchards', which Ann Elizabeth Mayer believes reflects the Welsh myths of the Mabinogion.
Thomas's poetry is notable for its musicality, most clear in 'Fern Hill', 'In Country Sleep', 'Ballad of the Long-legged Bait' and 'In the White Giant's Thigh' from Under Milk Wood.
Thomas once confided that the poems which had most influenced him were Mother Goose rhymes which his parents taught him when he was a child:
"I should say I wanted to write poetry in the
beginning because I had fallen in love with
words.
The first poems I knew were nursery rhymes,
and before I could read them for myself I had
come to love the words of them. The words
alone.
What the words stood for was of a very
secondary importance ... I fell in love, that is
the only expression I can think of, at once,
and am still at the mercy of words, though
sometimes now, knowing a little of their
behaviour very well, I think I can influence
them slightly and have even learned to beat
them now and then, which they appear to
enjoy.
I tumbled for words at once. And, when I began
to read the nursery rhymes for myself, and, later,
to read other verses and ballads, I knew that I
had discovered the most important things, to
me, that could be ever."
Thomas became an accomplished writer of prose poetry, with collections such as 'Portrait of the Artist as a Young Dog' (1940) and 'Quite Early One Morning' (1954) showing he was capable of writing moving short stories. His first published prose work, 'After the Fair', appeared in The New English Weekly on the 15th. March 1934.
Jacob Korg believes that one can classify Thomas's fiction work into two main bodies:
-- Vigorous fantasies in a poetic style
-- After 1939, more straightforward
narratives.
Korg surmises that Thomas approached his prose writing as an alternate poetic form, which allowed him to produce complex, involuted narratives that do not allow the reader to rest.
-- Dylan Thomas as a Welsh Poet
Thomas disliked being regarded as a provincial poet, and decried any notion of 'Welshness' in his poetry. When he wrote to Stephen Spender in 1952, thanking him for a review of his Collected Poems, he added:
"Oh, & I forgot. I'm not influenced by
Welsh bardic poetry. I can't read Welsh."
Despite this, his work was rooted in the geography of Wales. Thomas acknowledged that he returned to Wales when he had difficulty writing, and John Ackerman argues that:
"Dylan's inspiration and imagination
were rooted in his Welsh background".
Caitlin Thomas wrote that:
"He worked in a fanatically narrow groove,
although there was nothing narrow about
the depth and understanding of his feelings.
The groove of direct hereditary descent in
the land of his birth, which he never in
thought, and hardly in body, moved out of."
Head of Programmes Wales at the BBC, Aneirin Talfan Davies, who commissioned several of Thomas's early radio talks, believed that the poet's whole attitude is that of the medieval bards.
Kenneth O. Morgan counter-argues that it is a difficult enterprise to find traces of cynghanedd (consonant harmony) or cerdd dafod (tongue-craft) in Thomas's poetry. Instead he believes that Dylan's work, especially his earlier, more autobiographical poems, are rooted in a changing country which echoes the Welshness of the past and the Anglicisation of the new industrial nation:
"Rural and urban, chapel-going and profane,
Welsh and English, unforgiving and deeply
compassionate."
Fellow poet and critic Glyn Jones believed that any traces of cynghanedd in Thomas's work were accidental, although he felt that Dylan consciously employed one element of Welsh metrics: that of counting syllables per line instead of feet. Constantine Fitzgibbon, who was his first in-depth biographer, wrote:
"No major English poet has
ever been as Welsh as Dylan".
Although Dylan had a deep connection with Wales, he disliked Welsh nationalism. He once wrote:
"Land of my fathers, and
my fathers can keep it".
While often attributed to Thomas himself, this line actually comes from the character Owen Morgan-Vaughan, in the screenplay Thomas wrote for the 1948 British melodrama 'The Three Weird Sisters'.
Robert Pocock, a friend from the BBC, recalled:
"I only once heard Dylan express an
opinion on Welsh Nationalism.
He used three words. Two of them
were Welsh Nationalism."
Although not expressed as strongly, Glyn Jones believed that he and Thomas's friendship cooled in the later years because he had not rejected enough of the elements that Thomas disliked, i.e. "Welsh nationalism and a sort of hill farm morality".
Apologetically, in a letter to Keidrych Rhys, editor of the literary magazine 'Wales', Thomas's father wrote:
"I'm afraid Dylan isn't much
of a Welshman".
FitzGibbon asserts that Thomas's negativity towards Welsh nationalism was fostered by his father's hostility towards the Welsh language.
Critical Appraisal of Dylan Thomas's Work
Thomas's work and stature as a poet have been much debated by critics and biographers since his death. Critical studies have been clouded by Thomas's personality and mythology, especially his drunken persona and death in New York.
When Seamus Heaney gave an Oxford lecture on the poet, he opened by addressing the assembly:
"Dylan Thomas is now as much
a case history as a chapter in the
history of poetry".
He queried how 'Thomas the Poet' is one of his forgotten attributes. David Holbrook, who has written three books about Thomas, stated in his 1962 publication 'Llareggub Revisited':
"The strangest feature of Dylan Thomas's
notoriety - not that he is bogus, but that
attitudes to poetry attached themselves
to him which not only threaten the prestige,
effectiveness and accessibility to English
poetry, but also destroyed his true voice
and, at last, him."
The Poetry Archive notes that:
"Dylan Thomas's detractors accuse him
of being drunk on language as well as
whiskey, but whilst there's no doubt that
the sound of language is central to his
style, he was also a disciplined writer
who re-drafted obsessively".
Many critics have argued that Thomas's work is too narrow, and that he suffers from verbal extravagance. However those who have championed his work have found the criticism baffling. Robert Lowell wrote in 1947:
"Nothing could be more wrongheaded
than the English disputes about Dylan
Thomas's greatness ... He is a dazzling
obscure writer who can be enjoyed
without understanding."
Kenneth Rexroth said, on reading 'Eighteen Poems':
"The reeling excitement of a poetry-intoxicated
schoolboy smote the Philistine as hard a blow
with one small book as Swinburne had with
Poems and Ballads."
Philip Larkin, in a letter to Kingsley Amis in 1948, wrote that:
"No one can stick words into us
like pins... like Thomas can".
However he followed that by stating that:
"Dylan doesn't use his words
to any advantage".
Amis was far harsher, finding little of merit in Dylan's work, and claiming that:
"He is frothing at the mouth
with piss."
In 1956, the publication of the anthology 'New Lines' featuring works by the British collective The Movement, which included Amis and Larkin amongst its number, set out a vision of modern poetry that was damning towards the poets of the 1940's. Thomas's work in particular was criticised. David Lodge, writing about The Movement in 1981 stated:
"Dylan Thomas was made to stand for
everything they detest, verbal obscurity,
metaphysical pretentiousness, and
romantic rhapsodizing".
Despite criticism by sections of academia, Thomas's work has been embraced by readers more so than many of his contemporaries, and is one of the few modern poets whose name is recognised by the general public.
In 2009, over 18,000 votes were cast in a BBC poll to find the UK's favourite poet; Thomas was placed 10th.
Several of Dylan's poems have passed into the cultural mainstream, and his work has been used by authors, musicians and film and television writers.
The long-running BBC Radio programme, 'Desert Island Discs', in which guests usually choose their favourite songs, has heard 50 participants select a Dylan Thomas recording.
John Goodby states that this popularity with the reading public allows Thomas's work to be classed as vulgar and common. He also cites that despite a brief period during the 1960's when Thomas was considered a cultural icon, the poet has been marginalized in critical circles due to his exuberance, in both life and work, and his refusal to know his place.
Goodby believes that Thomas has been mainly snubbed since the 1970's and has become: "... an embarrassment to twentieth-century poetry criticism", his work failing to fit standard narratives, and thus being ignored rather than studied.
-- Memorials to Dylan Thomas
In Swansea's maritime quarter is the Dylan Thomas Theatre, the home of the Swansea Little Theatre of which Thomas was once a member. The former Guildhall built in 1825 is now occupied by the Dylan Thomas Centre, a literature centre, where exhibitions and lectures are held and which is a setting for the annual Dylan Thomas Festival. Outside the centre stands a bronze statue of Thomas by John Doubleday.
Another monument to Thomas stands in Cwmdonkin Park, one of Dylan's favourite childhood haunts, close to his birthplace. The memorial is a small rock in an enclosed garden within the park, cut by and inscribed by the late sculptor Ronald Cour with the closing lines from Fern Hill:
'Oh as I was young and easy
in the mercy of his means
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like
the sea'.
Thomas's home in Laugharne, the Boathouse, is now a museum run by Carmarthenshire County Council. Thomas's writing shed is also preserved.
In 2004, the Dylan Thomas Prize was created in his honour, awarded to the best published writer in English under the age of 30. In 2005, the Dylan Thomas Screenplay Award was established. The prize, administered by the Dylan Thomas Centre, is awarded at the annual Swansea Bay Film Festival.
In 1982 a plaque was unveiled in Poets' Corner, Westminster Abbey. The plaque is also inscribed with the last two lines of 'Fern Hill'.
In 2014, the Royal Patron of The Dylan Thomas 100 Festival was Charles, Prince of Wales, who made a recording of 'Fern Hill' for the event.
In 2014, to celebrate the centenary of Thomas's birth, the British Council Wales undertook a year-long programme of cultural and educational works. Highlights included a touring replica of Thomas's work shed, Sir Peter Blake's exhibition of illustrations based on 'Under Milk Wood', and a 36-hour marathon of readings, which included Michael Sheen and Sir Ian McKellen performing Thomas's work.
Towamensing Trails, Pennsylvania named one of its streets, Thomas Lane, in Dylan's honour.
-- List of Works by Dylan Thomas
-- 'The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas: The New Centenary Edition', edited and with Introduction by John Goodby. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 2014.
-- 'The Notebook Poems 1930–34', edited by Ralph Maud. London: Dent, 1989.
-- 'Dylan Thomas: The Film Scripts', edited by John Ackerman. London: Dent 1995.
-- 'Dylan Thomas: Early Prose Writings', edited by Walford Davies. London: Dent 1971.
-- 'Collected Stories', edited by Walford Davies. London: Dent, 1983.
-- 'Under Milk Wood: A Play for Voices', edited by Walford Davies and Ralph Maud. London: Dent, 1995.
-- 'On The Air With Dylan Thomas: The Broadcasts', edited by Ralph Maud. New York: New Directions, 1991.
-- Correspondence
-- 'Dylan Thomas: The Collected Letters', edited by Paul Ferris (2017), 2 vols. London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson
Vol I: 1931–1939
Vol II: 1939–1953.
-- 'Letters to Vernon Watkins', edited by Vernon Watkins (1957). London: Dent.
-- Posthumous Film Adaptations
-- 2016: Dominion, written and directed by Steven Bernstein, examines the final hours of Dylan Thomas.
-- 2014: Set Fire to the Stars, with Thomas portrayed by Celyn Jones, and John Brinnin by Elijah Wood.
-- 2014: Under Milk Wood BBC, starring Charlotte Church, Tom Jones, Griff Rhys-Jones and Michael Sheen.
-- 2014: Interstellar. The poem is featured throughout the film as a recurring theme regarding the perseverance of humanity.
-- 2009: A Child's Christmas in Wales, BAFTA Best Short Film. Animation, with soundtrack in Welsh and English. Director: Dave Unwin. Extras include filmed comments from Aeronwy Thomas.
-- 2007: Dylan Thomas: A War Films Anthology (DDHE/IWM).
-- 1996: Independence Day. Before the attack, the President paraphrases Thomas's "Do not go Gentle Into That Good Night".
-- 1992: Rebecca's Daughters, starring Peter O'Toole and Joely Richardson.
-- 1987: A Child's Christmas in Wales, directed by Don McBrearty.
-- 1972: Under Milk Wood, starring Richard Burton, Elizabeth Taylor, and Peter O'Toole.
-- Opera Adaptation
-- 1973: Unter dem Milchwald, by German composer Walter Steffens on his own libretto using Erich Fried's translation of 'Under Milk Wood' into German, Hamburg State Opera. Also at the Staatstheater Kassel in 1977.
-- Final Thoughts From Dylan Thomas
"Somebody's boring me.
I think it's me."
"Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"When one burns one's bridges,
what a very nice fire it makes."
"I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble; It is so sad and
beautiful, so tremulously like a dream."
"An alcoholic is someone you don't
like, who drinks as much as you do."
"I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me,
and my enquiry is as to their working, and my
problem is their subjugation and victory, down
throw and upheaval, and my effort is their self-
expression."
"The only sea I saw was the seesaw sea
with you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy.
Let me shipwreck in your thighs."
"Why do men think you can pick love up
and re-light it like a candle? Women know
when love is over."
"Poetry is not the most important thing in life.
I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading
Agatha Christie and sucking sweets."
"And now, gentlemen, like your manners,
I must leave you."
"My education was the liberty I had to read
indiscriminately and all the time, with my eyes
hanging out."
"I'm a freak user of words, not a poet."
"Our discreditable secret is that we don't
know anything at all, and our horrid inner
secret is that we don't care that we don't."
"It snowed last year too: I made a snowman
and my brother knocked it down and I knocked
my brother down and then we had tea."
"Though lovers be lost love shall not."
"Man’s wants remain unsatisfied till death.
Then, when his soul is naked, is he one
with the man in the wind, and the west moon,
with the harmonious thunder of the sun."
"And books which told me everything
about the wasp, except why."
"We are not wholly bad or good, who
live our lives under Milk Wood."
"Love is the last light spoken."
"... an ugly, lovely town ... crawling, sprawling ...
by the side of a long and splendid curving
shore. This sea-town was my world."
"I do not need any friends. I prefer enemies.
They are better company, and their feelings
towards you are always genuine."
"This poem has been called obscure. I refuse
to believe that it is obscurer than pity, violence,
or suffering. But being a poem, not a lifetime,
it is more compressed."
"One: I am a Welshman; two: I am a drunkard;
three: I am a lover of the human race, especially
of women."
"I believe in New Yorkers. Whether they've ever
questioned the dream in which they live, I wouldn't
know, because I won't ever dare ask that question."
"These poems, with all their crudities, doubts and
confusions, are written for the love of man and in
praise of God, and I'd be a damn fool if they weren't."
"Before you let the sun in, mind he wipes his shoes."
"Nothing grows in our garden, only washing.
And babies."
"Make gentle the life of this world."
"A worm tells summer better than the clock,
the slug's a living calendar of days; what shall
it tell me if a timeless insect says the world
wears away?"
"Time passes. Listen. Time passes. Come
closer now. Only you can hear the houses
sleeping in the streets in the slow deep salt
and silent black, bandaged night."
"Rhianon, he said, hold my hand, Rhianon.
She did not hear him, but stood over his bed
and fixed him with an unbroken sorrow. Hold
my hand, he said, and then: Why are you
putting the sheet over my face?"
"Come on up, boys - I'm dead."
"Life is a terrible thing, thank God."
metal grates and squeals like torture and chains. I hear the lonely mechanisms late in the night, still working, still begging for a break from the endless trawl into the earth and back again, in moments. They have an eerie nature - uncontrollable, constant movement. They take the name of innocence and twist it into something nightmarish. Drilling for oil as if it's a punishment, chained to the ground and ongoing. Metal gates and demanding signs cut them off from the rest of the world. In the evening I see their reflections moving against the billowing material of the trailer. Severe shapes and robotic movement and that awful, awful noise.
I've always hated nodding donkeys. They're the giant machines that drill for oil. They creep me out.
Ala has returned to the School to see Capt. Roberts is indeed here and looking for her. She stands back and feels so week in the nee's as her heart rushes uncontrollable, and she can feel her body getting hotter with each passing moment. But she can not go to him no matter what for if they wore caught by the gods it would mean the end or worse for the both of them.
Capt. Roberts is not going to give up he can feel Ala in his heart and he knows she is close and he knows she needs him as he needs her. And he has promised that if he wore to be with her once more that he would give all with out question and never ask for any thing in return for the only thing he truly wishes is to see her smiling face once more. ^_^
Unknowing to both of them that Suigintou is building her power to take over the school, Capture the Goddess Sword and end the gods and the world they made.
“So Young . . . So Evil”
“Theona was so young to be so evil but only her sister Kit, who looked enough like her to be her twin, knew what rottenness lay below Theona’s luscious blonde beauty. Now at nineteen Theona had become involved in the ugliest scandal of her entire life and Kit felt duty bound to extricate her. ‘YELLOW HEAD’ is the staccato-paced story of Kit’s hopeless struggle to save her wanton, love-crazy sister from self-destruction at any cost – even at the cost of the man she loves.
“Unfolding against the tough, realistic background of a mushrooming West Coast town, itself threatened by powerful forces of vice and corruption, this novel breathes life and warmth into an unforgettable story of love, loyalty and murder – a story that could only have been written about – and for – our times.” [From the back cover]
“Scratch the Surface . . .”
“Two exquisitely lovely sisters, as alike as identical twins on the surface – so utterly different inside! Theona – wanton, cruel and provocative. And Kay “[sic]” – warm, reserved, desirable. Brill O’Hearn thought he knew which sister he wanted – until he discovered that, by falling in love with one, he had become doubly susceptible to both!
“Here is the raw, shocking story of two warm-blooded women whose desire for the same man stirs up that deepest rivalry of all, a rivalry between sisters, where blood ties are forgotten and all restraints removed as the age-old animal, struggle for a mate, erupts in uncontrollable viciousness and passion.” [From the Intro inside the front cover]
[Note: The pulps paved the way for mass-market erotica, normalizing stories that flirted with taboo. Both genres were often dismissed as "low brow" or "trash," yet they tapped into real emotional and psychological currents -- especially around gender, power, and desire.]
The house where we all lived in Omaha, from 1955 until the spring of 1956.
**********************************
Some of the photos in this album are “originals” from the year that my family spent in Omaha in 1955-56. But the final 10 color photos were taken nearly 40 years later, as part of some research that I was doing for a novel called Do-Overs, the beginning of which can be found here on my website
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/index.html
and the relevant chapter (concerning Omaha) can be found here:
www.yourdon.com/personal/fiction/doovers/chapters/ch9.html
Before I get into the details, let me make a strong request — if you’re looking at these photos, and if you are getting any enjoyment at all of this brief look at some mundane Americana from 60+ years ago: find a similar episode in your own life, and write it down. Gather the pictures, clean them up, and upload them somewhere on the Internet where they can be found. Trust me: there will come a day when the only person on the planet who actually experienced those events is you. Your own memories may be fuzzy and incomplete; but they will be invaluable to your friends and family members, and to many generations of your descendants.
So, what do I remember about the year that I spent in Omaha? Not much at the moment, though I’m sure more details will occur to me in the days to come — and I’ll add them to these notes, along with additional photos that I’m tweaking and editing now.
For now, here is a random list of things I remember:
1. I attended the last couple months of 6th grade, and all of 7th grade, in one school. My parents moved from Omaha to Long Island, NY in the spring of my 7th grade school year; but unlike previous years, they made arrangements for me to stay with a neighbor’s family, so that I could finish the school year before joining them in New York.
2. Our dog, Blackie, traveled with us from our previous home in Riverside, and was with us until my parents left Omaha for New York; at that point, they gave him to some other family. For some reason, this had almost no impact on me. It was a case of “out of sight, out of mind” — when Blackie was gone, I spent my final three months in Omaha without ever thinking about him again.
3. Most days, I rode my bike to school; but Omaha was the place where one of my sisters first started attending first grade — in the same school where I was attending 6th grade. I remember walking her to school along Bellevue Avenue on the first morning, which seemed to take forever: it was about a mile away.
4. As noted in a previous Flickr album about my year in Riverside, I was a year younger than my classmates; but I was tall for my age, and thus looked “normal” at a quick glance. But because I was a year younger, I was incredibly shy and awkward in the presence of girls. Omaha was certainly not “sin city,” but by 6th grade and 7th grade, puberty was beginning to hit, and the girls had grown to the point where they were occasionally interested in boys. The school tried to accommodate this social development by teaching us the square dance (and forbidding the playing of songs by Elvis Presley, whose music was just beginning to be heard on the radio). I was an awful dancer, and even more of a shy misfit than my classmates; I continue to be an awful dancer today.
5. My bike ride to school was uneventful most days; but the final part of the ride was a steep downhill stretch on Avery Road, lasting three or four blocks. My friends and I usually raced downhill as fast as we could; but one day, my front bicycle wheel began to wobble on the downhill run, and my bike drifted uncontrollably to the side of the road and then off into a ditch. I got banged up pretty badly.
6. But this accident was nothing compared to my worst mishap: a neighborhood friend and I enjoyed playing “cowboys and Indians” in the woods near his home (and his younger brother usually tagged along). I had a bow and a few arrows for our adventure, and we often shot at trees a hundred feet away. Unfortunately, the arrows often disappeared into the underbrush (because we were lousy shots) and were difficult to find. Consequently, one of us came up with the clever idea of standing behind the “target” tree, so that we could see where the randomly-shot arrows landed. Through a series of miscommunications, I poked my head out from behind the tree just as my friend shot one of the arrows … and it skipped off the side of the tree and into my face, impaling itself into my cheek bone about an inch below my eye. An inch higher, and I would not be typing these words … (meanwhile, my friend's younger brother grew up to be an officer in the U.S. Air Force, and he tracked me down on the Internet, decades later).
7. In the summer of 1956, my parents decided to spend their summer vacation prospecting for uranium (seriously!) in the remote hills of eastern Utah, where my dad had grown up on the Utah-Colorado border. This entailed a long, long drive from Omaha; and it involved leaving me and my two sisters with my grandparents near Vernal, UT. My grandparents lived in a very small mining village outside of Vernal; and while they had electricity and various other modern conveniences, they also had an outhouse in the back yard. Trips to the “bathroom” in the middle of the night were quite an adventure. On the way back to Omaha at the end of this vacation trip (with no uranium ore having been found), we stopped for a couple of days of camping somewhere in the mountains of Colorado; you’ll see a couple of photos from that camping trip in this album.
8. There were no lizards in Omaha, and thus no opportunity for lizard-hunting with my slingshot—which had been a significant hobby in my previous homes in Riverside and Roswell. Indeed, there was almost nothing to shoot at … and I couldn’t find anyone with whom I could play (and hopefully win) marbles, to use as slingshot ammunition. But for reasons I never questioned or investigated (but about which I’m very curious now), there was a small vineyard in the field behind our house, and I was able to climb over the fence and retrieve dozens of small, hard, green grapes. They turned out to be excellent ammunition … but I never did find any lizards.
9. A few months before my parents left for New York, I told them about the latest craze sweeping the neighborhood: “English bikes,” with three speeds, thin tires, and hand-brakes. I desperately wanted one, but Dad said it was far too expensive for him to buy as a frivolous gift for me: at the time, English bikes had an outrageous price tag of $25. I was told that I would have to earn the money myself if I wanted one … and the going rate for young, scrawny kids who shoveled sidewalks, pulled weeds from gardens, and did babysitting chores, was 25 cents per hour. That works out to 100 hours of work … but I did it, over the course of the next few months, and when I got to New York, the first thing I did was buy my English bike.
10. Toward the end of my 7th-grade school year, everyone in my class was subjected to a vision test: we were lined up in alphabetical order, and one-by-one read off a series of letters that we could barely see on a large placard taped onto the classroom blackboard. Because my surname starts with a “Y,” I was usually near the end of the line … and by the time I got to the front, I had usually memorized the letters (because they never bothered to change them, from one student to the next) without even realizing it consciously. But on this particular occasion in 7th grade, for some reason, they decided to line us up in reverse alphabetical order … and I was the first in line. For the first time in my life, I realized that I could not see anything of the letters, and that I was woefully near-sighted.
11. When I got to New York, my parents took me to an optometrist to get my first set of glasses (and, yes, all of the neighborhood kids did begin taunting me immediately: “Four eyes! Four eyes!”) … and I’ve worn glasses ever since.
Three years after I arrived in New York, the glasses saved my vision when a home-brewed mix of gunpowder and powdered aluminum blew up in my face in the school chemistry lab (where I had an after-school volunteer job as a “lab assistant”). I suffered 2nd-degree burns on my face from the explosion, but the glasses protected my eyes. That, however, is a different story for a different time.
First aid courses are great fodder for several 'old faithful' titter provokers:
• Talking about types of burn; particularly ‘Carpet’
•‘Chest injuries’
•Feeling the dummy's tits while you perform CPR
•Sitting astride the dummy and gyrating and screaming yes yes yes while you perform CPR
- Exclaiming that the dummy has a pierced tongue when you finish CPR.
•Stating that it is pointless trying to resuscitate the dummy as they have no lower half.
•Emotional overacting whilst performing CPR: quoting ER; “get me a cotton bud, an anal swab, a vanilla latte and 3 large tampons” sobbing uncontrollably, throwing yourself on the dummy and begging them not to die.
•Giggling at the big bouncy breasted girl’s big bouncy breasts bouncing as she performs CPR.
•Wiping the mouth of the dummy with a wet wipe after CPR and saying, “Sorry, did I get your hair?” “It doesn’t normally go in that direction.”
•Wrapping people up in bandages so tight that bits of them go purple.
•Watching the instructor bend a male volunteer forward and prepare to ‘backblow’ him to stop him choking
•Putting two fingers up people’s noses to tip their heads back
•Discussion of whether you would feel a bit silly if you got out a plastic face shield before resuscitation. Would you fashion one out of a carrier bag if necessary before giving them mouth to mouth if they had 50 cold sores and a centipede scurrying out of their mouth or if this would seem a little vain and peevish?
•Calling the Heimlich manoeuvre the Hymen Remover.
“100% tourist, 0% time space continuum integrity”
“After being fused with the Kanohi Olmak, Vezon went on his many (unintentional) interdimensional adventures. On these trips, he has the uncontrollable urge to hoard everything that looks remotely valuable, with all of the consequences of such actions. This is what led to him getting his hands on the story bible, which he now uses to complete his collection of non-cannon masks.”
This a bit of a joke build that I did based on some derailed conversations with friends. After reading the serials, I always jokingly imagined Vezon to be a Deadpool like character, a loose cannon with some comedy aspects (preferably voiced by Jack Black).
...as you are now, so once was I,
As I am now, you too shall be...
Prepare for death and follow me.
**these words were written on a tombstone that my high school friends and I saw when we were looking around at a cemetery in my small town. There was a picture of a woman with a smile that bared her teeth. We couldn't stop laughing and gasping. We tried to copy her smile, pulling our upper lips back from our top teeth...forever after when we did this...we said: Make the Face! And we would laugh uncontrollably. Even my parents would "make the face." Oh, the things that we remember from our youth that we never ever forget.
I found these words to be rather horrifying! :D
Angel and Adeline are standing on my favorite tombstone at the old Boulder Cemetery.
Melker had an accident in the hallway today.
You might call it an uncontrollable urge.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=a8UcpmUQkNU
For reasons that remain a mystery.
.
Abused & Abandoned Street Dogs.
Mr Baby Mickey waiting for breakfast at
The Spirit House with Mama & Rocky.
It's Friday the 8th of November and
plans are being made for another
early morning run to the temple
tomorrow morning. Lots of dog
stuff is being readied plus of
course carrots for Mr Ed ;-)~
And lets not forget special
foods for Molly & Crew.
I'll be gone by 5AM as usual
and arrive at The Dog Palace
just after 6AM. Mama & Rocky
will be uncontrollably excited;-)
Next Thursday the 14th Blondie will
receive another inoculation then the
end of the month he will be neutered.
And lets not forget around the 20th
all the temple dogs will be given their
monthly tic, parasite, mange inoculation.
That my friends will be a very very long day.
Not complaining just stating the facts ;-)~~~~~
Thank you for your comments and donations.
Thank You.
Jon&Crew.
Please help with your temple dog donations here.
www.gofundme.com/saving-thai-temple-dogs.
Please,
No Political Statements, Awards, Invites,
Large Logos or Copy/Pastes.
© All rights reserved.
.
And while you're movin', rock steady, rock steady, baby
Let's call this song exactly what it is...
(One that I can't sit still to whenever I hear.)
I was making a road-songs CD yesterday for our next trip, and this one has been a fave of mine for a very long time.
Of course I had to give it a play while driving last night. Yeah, I can only imagine what people behind me in traffic thought when they saw me grooving uncontrollably behind the wheel. AARP may be a little over a year away, but I can still groove.
♫ ♪ What it is, what it is, what it is! ♫ ♪
1961 Cadillac Fleetwood | "Concord Green" Iridescent Metallic
Kissimmee, Florida
May 2012
A rare sighting of this super rare, priceless and highly endangered (kena threaten) tailless cuckoo. Thought to be extinct at the turn of the century when one of these freak was sighted perching on a CB (chee bye) tree just outside Elvis's Pub (China Town, SG) on Independence Day in 1945. As far as records shown, this is the second sighting since the second world war, WWII. I'm sure there are more world wars ahead if this species continue to be sighted especially in SG and especially among the CB photographers here. The first sighting was however, in a faraway Jalan Bersar toilet a long long time ago, too long to remember and there's no point mentioning.
In fact this sensationally enigmatic bird is long suspected to be a close relative of a very strange thing called Archaeopteryx (missing link between dinosaur and modern bird. The anatomical characteristics between the 2 are almost identical except for one major difference in their respiratory system in which one take in oxygen and expel carbon dioxide while the other take in money and expel laughing gas) this strange creature possess feathers just like a modern bird but with a mouth full of very sharp teeth just like the cuckoo shown above. The set of 32 sharp teeth always get the job done in amazing ways. Feathers first evolved as a means of temperature regulation, inadvertently providing the wonderful possibility of flight. A 200 million year old fossilized remains of this creature suggest that it possesses advanced flight feathers which bear close resemblance to the Long-legged bare-backed Cuckoo shown above and thus for sure it's able to fly like a housefly. It also shared many characteristics such as long sexy legs, bare back, 2 boobs, long hair, nice butt, nice smell, nice shape, tasty, crunchy, smooth complexion, contour body and most strikingly of all, able to stand on just 2 legs with or without heels. This is a clear indication that she is a bipedal vertebrate and having the ability to walk upright and wear dress. A far cry from its ancestors which could at the best of their ability only crawl in small circles on the floor and could fart a little bit along the way. But exactly at which stage of the evolutionary ladder when she starts to develop such unique and impressive characteristics remains unknown and often hotly debated among the brightest brains in the scientific community. One such bright sunny brain is Professor Humpty Dumpty from the University of Hornytown. He had devoted his entire life studying a 220 million year old fossilized remains and has make a startling discovery that the remains were actually leftover chicken bones from last night's dinner xyz***!!F__K!!KNN.
However it's hypothetically accepted that once the position of her butt had evolved sufficiently to line up with her skull within an angle of 13deg from her spine or in simple terms when all of her 206 bones have anatomically fall into their correct place to take the form of half a cuckoo she would begin to stand upright and able to walk and run in circles probably able to jump and sings twinkle twinkle little stars along the way. Fossilized records had showed that this happens around 135.25 million years ago and still happening today at 4pm. Incidentally, by looking at this bird you are watching evolution unfolding in real time right before your very eyes.
However, scientists are still missing 2 critical components needed to establish the link between the 2 creatures to be the same exact species....the elusive number 2 left butt cheek bone and the left nipple bone If anybody happen to come across these 2 missing items, please alert the ICI (International Cuckoo Institute) The 2 cuckoo scientists on duty will be glad to provide protocol on the handling of artifacts with great paleontological significance such as these.
Birds like this one is one of the immensely successful evolutional outcomes of nature, a cornerstone to the trail of life on the planet.
In the beginning of time (some 150 million to 220 million years ago), there was only one single most successful design of living thing on our primitive world known as the sexysaur. One fine day, this group of hopelessly overweight organism decided to go air borne. In order to achieve that, they dramatically reduced their size and started to develop wings and took flying lessons. The possibility of flight opens up numerous window of opportunities greatly enhancing the survival of the species and thus securing a successful path in the process of evolution. The ability to fly allows them to travel over great distances in short period of time to places otherwise unreachable in search of food or mate, sight seeing, look for loss pets, search for food court, or serve as quick getaway from nasty flightless debt collectors. The perfect strategy that results in the successful evolution of bird species in the world.
The Long-legged bare-backed Cuckoo display above is one of its success story for which she serves as a living testimony. No other species, subspecies, antispecies, funnyspecies or even nonspecies is as successful as this sexyspecies.
Those that did not buy the idea happily went extinct some 65million years ago (this group of idiots become known as the dinosaurs)
Those that took to the sky, took their success, secrets, tactics, riddles and technology with them. Those folks became the birds that we know today including the one shown above.
In fact, in the history of evolution, the earth has underwent not one but several mass extinction brought on by either very violent natural causes or of extra-terrestrial origin such as a massive asteroid impact. The most recent is 65 million years ago (in geological time scale is just about during the last Christmas when you are about to have the first bite of your favorite Christmas pie when a stone the size of a football stadium hit the earth with incredible devastating consequences). In that geological instance, the big boys dinosaurs are completely annihilated, leaving behind their descendants flying above us today and some left-over bones for us to ponder. Destructive and violent as it sounds but such occurrence actually accelerates and assist evolution by wiping out the out-of-date, out-of-fashion, out-of-steam, incorrigible, bossy, stingy, rude, smelly, noisy, inconsiderate, oversize, unreasonable, difficult to control, impossible to tame, obese, unfriendly, grumpy, uncooperative, busybody, potential terrorist, all talk no action, indecent, big bully and out-of-money dominant life forms and provide the possibility of diversification in the development of new and improved life forms or organism. Our very own existence is the eventual outcome of such destructive forces. Prior to this, we are just a bunch of noisy little apes wondering around the plains of Africa looking for berries to eat.
One burning riddle scientists are still trying to figure out is that why this particular cuckoo has taken evolution not 1 not 2 but hundred of steps further and go wingless yet fully capable of flight. Perhaps this is an adaptation to the strange combination of high sugar bubble tea/apple pie diet and the lack of horny ground predators in sg. Nevertheless, it's clear that birds have evolved from dinosaurs (some might have even developed from sexysaurs, a kind of horny dinosaur that refuse to be annihilated 65 million years ago despite being hit by a massive meteoroid from an amusement park across Wall street) and this bird has came a long way transforming from a 40 ft ferocious meat-eating T-rex to a bird-sized gentle bubble tea sucker.
Looking at the image, not much eye contact though. But back contact is not bad too. This one comes with my favorite original contour body, rosewood fretboard on maple neck, sexy G-string, synchronised tremolo and locking tuner by Fender. Wonder if she is a brood parasite. I certainly would not mind if she visit my nest, I would be more than happy to provide full gps coordinates of my nest : 3rd stone from the sun
Additional note :
130 million years of gradual speciation had resulted in a pair of long slender cuckoo legs that is covered with gorgeous fair smooth skin instead of scales found in other bird or bird-like species. This gives the animal a huge evolutionary advantage over a pair of stupid scaly legs. That would allows her to attract more horny male species resulting in higher number of nesting cycles, hence more offspring, especially horny female chicks..the more the better
This is the only cuckoo and for that matter the only bird species which spot the longest hair on the planet. These what looks like human pubic hair is in fact very fine strands of crystallized radioactive carbon 13.13 isotopes. The phenomenon is a result of a combination of factors. One such combination is the excessive exposure to male species not of her own kind during her most horny period.
This is a direct result of a hypothetical condition known as Reset Windup. In engineering term, Reset Windup is a situation whereby the cuckoo's brain is overloaded with corrupted data during an attempt to correct an excessive amount of error information accumulated in her hippocampus as a result of some serious horny misjudgment As a consequence, the inner lining of her skull's tissue is heated up by the contaminated fluid to extremely high temperature and pressure. In a response to such deadly situation, her brain would then starts to drain off the deadly sexy fluid thru' the follicles thus allowing the internal pressure to falls back to its normal level of 13000 PSI (Pound per Sexy Inch) at ambient temperature. Million of years of evolution has equipped this cuckoo with a super brain capable of processing tremendous amount of data in a very short period of time with self diagnostic, self troubleshooting, self stimulating and debugging function. This special abilities allow the cuckoo to correct the mentioned deadly condition incredibly fast thus protecting her brain from serious hardware, software as well as underwear injury. Otherwise she could be a mad cuckoo or worst, dead cuckoo with a living but very corrupted brain. For any other bird species, the result would be undoubtedly 100% fatal. Even panadol can't help either.
The sexy sticky yellowish fluid subsequently cools and crystallize into the black-colored hair-like particles suspended from her skull as shown in the image.
Anyway, regardless of the vast number of strange combination of factors, long hair is always better than no hair (botak) for this particular species..
A recent discovery of a set of fossilized upper jaw bone by Professor Robin Hoody (Swordsman University) lies buried for 200 million years
under a 7-Eleven store at Wall Street belonging to this species has revealed something extraordinary. At some point in its evolutionary past this creature has possessed something out of anybody’s imagination, venom yes 100% pure venom no joke.
It is evident by its 2 enlarged front teeth still attached to the jaw structure after 200 million years by a tiny piece of pre-historic Wrigley's Spearmint Chewing Gum. It has evolved to generate and store huge amount of venom ready to inject into her lucky prey victim just for one single most important purpose, kill the bargirl.
Traces of fossilised DNA in her mouth indicates there are at least 2000 complex chemical components of various type of toxin in her venom composition.
Each component has evolved to perform a very specific task, some of which makes the victim laugh and dance in circles fully naked while others destroy the blood structure turning it into a thick straw berry chicken soup which halt blood flow resulting in a joyful death. Both methods are extremely effective in taking the lives out of its living victims
Together they form a very potent Hemotoxin cocktail cough syrup which design to kill its victim in miniseconds in one single bite sometimes 2, depending male or female sexually active prey.
How and why at one point in time this sweet and gentle creature has developed such a nasty defensive/offensive mechanism is still a subject of intense study and would remain so for the next 200 million years until some smart Alec comes along figure that out and comes up with a rational explanation follow by a possible resolution.
However, recent studies show that this creature has given up its deadly chemical weapon sometimes between 100million and 50million years ago for something that is less nasty and deadly, a pair of boob-like airbags which attached to her chest. (subsequently the patent for the generation of the deadly venom has been sold to Poseidon (sea god) which he then deploy on some of his cheeky sea creatures such as Cone Snail, Box Jellyfish and Blue ring octopus to kill innocent cold blooded prey items under the sea and is met with huge success as a result of its extreme toxicity which could deliver instant death to their victims. They would become the world's most venomous animals. There are plans to expand its venom producing plants to China taking advantage of its cheap labour and free WIFI.
The reason for that is largely due to the extreme seasonal/environmental change which has impacted the behavior of her aggressive fast moving prey items. The greenhouse effect has caused her prey items to become more sluggish, stupid, lazy, groggy, grumpy, inconsiderate, abusive, unreasonable and most importantly loses their ability to run fast which eventually lead to their demise. (this is exactly
what 's happening to us currently)
As such, advance predator such as this female cuckoo, which is designed to be predatory at that moment in the evolutionary history also changes her predatory instinct. She can then focus her energy into more mating cycles instead of wasting her resources to generate venom of such complexity to bite and kill fast running sexy preys which has became obsolete since. Instead of biting her victim to death she seduce them to die for her. This method only works on male prey items for obvious reasons. Concurrently, she also give up the idea of large prey predation and devote to eat something more manageable in size such as tiny worms and occasionally a Big Mac or 2.
The male cuckoo however, is non-predatory from the very beginning of time and only eats fresh buttercake and drink lukewarm pure pussy juice.
highlight :
The absence of the usual tail feathers has revealed an extraordinary appealing organ which is usually well hidden from sight known as a butt and it grab me by the throat. This piece of juicy, extremely elastic, hand woven, shiny, safe-to-use, easy to wash, irresistible, often unusable, machine washable, microwave safe, warm & smooth, carefully calibrated, 100% sterilized, tasty, sometimes slightly salty, highly aromatic, at times problematic, robust, extremely stable, low in fats, high in proteins, low in cholesterol, sugar free, mostly playable, top quality, reliable, highly maneuverable, a little bit tricky, insect-resistant, a little bit slippery, weather resistant, water proof, solid and at the same time soft to touch organ (wish my bolster has all these qualities) allow her to sit comfortably on the eggs during incubation period and simultaneously preventing her from falling out of the nest when she farts in her sleep. Usually Cuckoo would build their nest more than 3 meters up on the tree and as such, this job is considered to be working at height. Risk assessment must be carried out and PPE (personal protective equipment) such as safety harness, hard hat, safety goggles, ear protection, safety pussy shoes, super glue, luggage bags, tooth pick, sun block, ladder, fishnet stocking, perfume, tampon, reader digest, fire extinguisher, speargun, shopping bag, manicure, moisturizer, hamburger, 7-up and parachute is required by law. However, in view of her super ass which is also a shock absorber and a pair of boob-like tissue which double as a parachute, she is well exempted from all safety equipment including toilet roll. It also has a build-in AI temperature and pressure control system which intelligently adjust to the optimal settings in the course of the incubation period for best comfort, stability, safety, gas exchange and heat transfer. Another amazing feature is that it can be programmed to switch off when the butt is not in use for incubation during which it can be used for other more functional purposes such as attracting a mate, for hire or just showing off.
Hence, this multifunctional multicoloured butt is indeed a staggering marvel of engineering bearing the hallmark of a product from nature manufactured to the highest quality and safety level which surpass all standards set by horny mankind
If you wish to have one installed, please contact Dr Hairy Cock mobile 88813888
Just in case you can't reach him. Just drop by at his workshop located at no. 13 Manymorecocks Street. He is sure in, 24/7. There in his ISO certified, digitally hygienic, explosion proof, terrorist-free, tax free, high-security, air-tight, earthquake-proof, anti-tsunami, mold-free, worry-free, cyber secured laboratory, you can find him busy at his work dismantling, assembling, designing and constructing a wide range of butts for an endless range of applications. His latest project which I'm not supposed to tell is a space butt mounted on a cuckoo just like the one display above and send the entire package to Mars. This highly classified scientific experiment is to test out the theory of cuckoo colonization in another planet outside of our own. In addition, the program is also design to seek out the origins of the Martians. Where do all these idiots would possibly come from? Have they evolved from kind of strange ancient microbial life or imported from another screw-up planet by some screw-up aliens on holiday and how they manage to evolve so unsuccessfully to become the present day Martians living in such a hostile place with no air, no water, no shops, no food court, no casino, no WIFI, no YouTube, no convenient stalls, no porn, no where to go except hiding under thick layers of red sand waiting for a sexy earth cuckoo to drop by once every few million years.
Unlike mother earth where we are all too familiar with, Mars has yet to install an atmospheric curtain around the red planet due to budget constraints of the stingy Martians. Without which, the cuckoo from earth would not survive for long no matter how good is her mating and incubating skills. No air means dead cuckoo. In order to overcome that, the future Mars cuckoo would need to evolve to develop a self- sustaining internal oxygen compartment which allows the generation and storage of oxygen gas. The solution, to convert her 2 existing boob-like organs into gas chambers each capable of storing 50 tons of O2 gas with provisions to generate and store an additional 50mg of Nitrogen/hydrogen sulfide mixture, 2.5mg of horny gas and a little laughing gas as well. With the well-thought system in place, we never need to depend on the cunning Martians for air. They overcharge every time. One major engineering problem pin down but still thousands more to go.
Another major issue is the lovely solar winds from the sun.
Without a magnetic curtain (generated by the earth's core) to repel them just like mother earth does, the deadly UV rays, cosmic rays, X rays, grandma rays, grandpa rays, stink rays, funny rays and a whole range of high energy nasty charged particles will soon strip the cuckoo external plumage exposing her naked body. That would prove fatal not for the cuckoo but for the Martians. The Martians for the longest time have never seen a naked cuckoo before and that would certainly blow their minds turning them into headless Mars bars. They must find a solution to this sticky problem fast otherwise the 2 remaining martians would be annihilated staring at the naked cuckoo all day long with the solar wind gently blowing.
However, this cuckoo has one super trick up her sleeve. Not only does her 2 boob-like organs able to generate and store gases they also double as electromagnetic flux generators. The resultant sexy magnetic field forms a cocoon-like shield wrapping all around her, protecting her fragile body from the deadly solar winds radiate from the sun's surface especially during a sunspot when the radiation is at its peak.
Apart from the protective function, the magnetic flux also create a spectacle of colorful aurora called Assrora in the region around her ass. This is a result of the intense magnetic forces interacting with the highly active stream of chemically complex mixture of gases exiting her bottom especially after a heavy meal of garlic and anions. At times, bright streaks of lightning can also be seen resulting from the excessive build-up of cheeky-charged particles discharging to the ground below follow by a series of ass splitting banshee screams.
Final conclusion :
Charles Darwin and Alfred Wallace both came up with the Theory of Evolution through Natural Selection independently. Hat off to you guys.
Both are immensely successful in the development of their "The Origin Of Species" thesis thru keen observations of the natural world.
(but that did not shed light on why my boss crucified me for an incompetency that i never agree during the course of work despite after working diligently for half a million years. I am completely devastated. It's like a bullet thru' my brain. They forced me to take over a super hot potato and swallow it without a single drop of water, that really hunts. But life have to go on. I pray that one day justice will prevail and cleanse my name )
Sadly, both somehow missed this cuckoo. Has Alfred Wallace discovered this cuckoo during his field trip here in 1854 things will never be the same.
This cuckoo would provide all the materials he needs to formulate his theory and the answers to all the intriguing questions that he is dying to know about the origins of species and will undoubtedly be way ahead of Charles in that regards.
He would be able to see this cuckoo evolving right before his teary eyes in real time which otherwise would take millions of years, too slowly to be observed, study and recorded by any living human being.
Observing this cuckoo in real time doing the real things is like travel back in time doing the fake things. The technological innovations that nature has put into this bird is simply mind blogging. Such example is the transformation of the black bill into a CBlips, the boob-like objects in disguise, the extraordinary butt, from rock to rocket, from wings to no wings to chicken wings, from feather to fair skin, from bird-eyes to human-like eyes, from bird smell to sexy smell, from scaly legs to sexy legs, from dinosaur to sexysaur last and not least the state-of-the-art Fart propulsion system. In order to fully digest all her natural wonders of evolution, he probably have to dissect this human-like cuckoo to have a detailed look of her from the inside, outside and backside. I’m sure he is able to unlock more secrets and unravel more mysteries about this cuckoo and for that matter evolution itself. I’m sure he would exclaim after a detailed analysis of this cuckoo …damn it, this thing is a super delight...and damn hot !
This will also shed light on how other species evolve, half evolve, strangely evolve, little bit evolve, anyhow evolve or successfully fail to evolve. Evolution as we know today will never be the same again. All the books on evolution that we know about will have to be re-written for the sake of one bird, the Long-legged bare-backed tailless Cuckoo....sweat !
(have a good look at the specimen shown above. However, for safety reasons male reader is advised not to pay too much attention at one particular highly evolved piece of hardware known as the butt. It was reported that a curious male reader has suffered a phenomenon called pulsating eye-ball syndrome after having stared at the arousing object for 13mins straight without blinking leading to a massive short-circuiting of the brain cells which in turn causes the affected eye-balls to expand and contract at an alarming rate. If the condition is not treated promptly, the eye-ball would invariably turn into fish-balls)
In the image, there is a red color pillar with a grey color onion shaped object situated at the left side of the cuckoo. This strange looking structure is actually a mini nuclear missile which runs on radioactive plutonium13.13. Its function, however is not to deliver a massive destructive force to its enemy but to serve as a quick getaway transportation for the cuckoo in distress.
In the event of an emergency such as uncontrollable large scale fire or a horrible horny riot that ever to break out in the vicinity , this wingless cuckoo would then be able to jump onto the device right away, hold it tight like a bolster and launch herself away from any imminent dangers by licking the onion vigorously. A perfect escape strategy.
The last time a cuckoo ever try this out is yesterday 4pm when a stray exploding firecracker drop 4ft away trigger a responsive reaction. The cuckoo immediately swing into action and ride on the damn thing. The missile take off successfully saving the cuckoo's life. However, at 10,000ft in the air, the combustion chamber, a major component of the device suddenly blow up due to excessive temperature build up and blow the poor cuckoo's ass into 13 pieces. The cause of the incident was traced to a pair of faulty 'o' ring which served to isolate the cuckoo's fart gases from coming into contact with the rocket fuel source of highly compressed laughing gas.
The mixing of these gases created an phenomenon known as Shaky-ass where the highly excited male air molecules build up inside the cuckoo's butt starts to vibrate so violently that it leads to the catastrophic breakup of her ass. She survived the incident after having her badly damaged ass sew up in the Smithsonian Institution's gift shop. The repair job takes over a month to complete during which the out-of-action cuckoo is confined to doing blowjob. To blow away the curious Big-eye flies which gather around her injured butt just to watch.
To prevent such tragedy from happening again, it is mandatory for all female wingless cuckoo species to install titanium heat shield to protect their butt. As from yesterday, under the bizSAFE WSH regulation those cuckoo which deem vulnerable to the potentially fatal Shaky-ass condition and do not have sufficient protection for their asset will have their butt confiscated by the long and horny arms of the law. The better quality butts would then be used to installed in sex toys for the cuckoo sex industries to boost the declining birth rate. The resulting buttless cuckoo which have lost their sexual appeal to their male counterparts will have to be scraped or convert to sex slaves for a group of very horny male hyena in the singapore zoo and to be consumed as snack then after.
I'm not too sure if this particular cuckoo conform to the specific requirement unless an intimate butt inspection is being carry out to determine if the protective shield is of the right material and dimension to offer full protection to the entire butt and not half a butt or quaterbutt
For new installation, please contact Mr Hairy Maniac at 999111
For repairs/overhaul/replacement or unconditional sniffing contact Mr Spill Gates at $$$$123
For spare parts, you seriously run out of luck
One final and most important note (I promise) :
Cuckoo species are infamous for their brood parasitic behavior. Most cuckoo parents would leave their parental duties from incubating the eggs to feeding their own young
entirely to another species If this young cuckoo chick needs help, I won't mind to feed this hot freak until she is mature enough, tame enough, wild enough, hot enough, cheeky enough to fend for herself and at the same time providing her with the best TLC I could afford to give this poor chick a head start in life.
But please don't tell my wife about it....otherwise the consequence is unimaginable. I'll be put into an exceptional evolutionary transition transforming from a human being into a single cell organism in a brink of an eye. Literally nothing left.
The story of CB leaf :
According to historical records which date back to the early days of the SAF (sg army). Soldiers were strongly discouraged from using a particular type of plant for camouflage purpose in the course of field craft training. It was green and it was big and best of all it looked like a pussy. It was extremely hard for your enemies NOT to spot you from miles away because you looked just like a gigantic green moving pussy.
This is the infamous CB leaf. scientific name : Chee Bye leaf, common name : simpoh air plant
uncommon name : plant more leaves
Christian name : Chai tow kway (fried carrotcake) leaf
Hokkien name : CB leaf also
Cantonese name : also CB leaf
Malay name : CB leaf sama sama
Alternative name of the plant around the globe :
Indian name : roti prata curry leaf
Japanese name : Love that pussy leaf
Chinese name : make more pussy leaf
European name : eat the pussy leaf
American name : play that funky pussy leaf (til you die .......♫♫ ♪)
North Korean name : Rocket pussy leaf
Martian name : space pussy leaf
Mexican name : hot pussy leaf
Russian name : freeze pussy leaf
African name : Serengeti pussy leaf
Australian name : Kangaroo pussy leaf / Down under got pussy leaf
Thai name : Tom Yum pussy
Singapore name : Chilli pussy crab
Terrorist name : bomb that pussy
English name : pussywillow
Hungary name : Budapussy
Italian name : Pastapussy
Mongolia name : Magnolia icepussy
James Bond name : Octopussy leaf
Musical name : Pussy note in F major (with accidental)
Airplane name : Fly Pussy Fly
IT name : Fire Pussy Wall
Vacation name : Annual pussy leave
Technological name : acute erotic Pussification misalignment
Medical name : unkeratinized stratified squamous - epithelium......nevermind
Family name : Miss Pussy Leaf
WI-FI name : pussy 5G
Nickname : Lan Jiao (Lan bird)
Hieroglyphic name : dunno how to read
Fakename : Pussy Sham Leaf
Brandname : Brand essence of Pussy
Atomic name : Uranium Pussy 235 Leaf
Roadname : Missy Pussy street
Story name : 3 little pussy pigs
Ancient name : Rivers Of Babylon(there we sat down)
Alcoholic name : Johnnie Woker black pussy label.
Song name : Stairway To Heaven (Dazed and confused)
Band name : ZZ TOP (just got back from pussy's)
Astronomy name : Milky pussy way
Botanical name : Bellis perennis pussykickapoo
Biblical name : Caiaphas&pilate_Q_gsus
Technical name : Electromagnetic pussy excitation
Guitar name : Fender stratocaster vs Gibson les pussy
Biology name : multicellular pussycitation
Cosmology name : Supermassive black hole (there is one in every galaxy including ours. There is one found in our company known as the BOSS or more appropriately SMAH (SuperMassive AssHole)
Mystery name : Shroud of Turin. relics of Crucifixion & resurrection of the Lord.
Electrical name : High tension busbar juice
Arabic name : ساق طويلة كس زهرة
Electronic name : VLSI (Very Large Sexy Integration)
Archaeological name : Archaic pussy
Baby name : Cinderella, little glass pussy
Hebrew name : נֶחְמָד מודיע אלמוני flou(-ə)r
Thai name : ดอกไม้ หี
Surname : Ah Lian (aka pussy lian)
SG Lockdown name : Circuit Breaker, stay home stay safe, stay D (steady).
Controversy name : Documentary Hypothesis
Lost gospel name : Q source oral tradition
...
extra info :
This is a female featherless bird species (male species has got absolutely no interesting features and therefore nut thing worthy to talk about)
Only 4 species known to have existed in this world.
I got 3 of them and the forth one is still at large.
Believe to be hiding in a place far far away. A place so remote that even MRT+LRT+SBS bus can't reach.
I'm determined to track her down one day, shoot her and post her in flickr backside....i mean ...website.
What actually happened :
This group of people/photographer together with their supposedly hired model came by while I was busy shooting the Stork-billed Kingfisher hunting beside a small pond.
Out of nowhere a lady came over accusing me for trying to shoot their model and thus scaring her demanding me to move off from the area. I was rather taken aback and pissed off at her rude remarks. I then reminded her that this was a public place. I shoot my bird while you guys shoot your model. In fact I think the appearance of this huge group of people really impacted my photography.
It was at this moment that I decided to do exactly what they were accusing me.....shoot their fucking model !
A subject that was last on my list. I turn my lens away from the king and started framing this girl which I soon found her to be more appealing than my kingfisher. (Damn it I should have devoted my time shooting girls instead!)
Later, while I was reviewing the pics that I decided to do a write-up on this rather unexpected encounter. Inject a little humor, married it with a little avian flavor, spice it up with a little archaeological excitement, mix it with some astronomical reasoning, stir it with a bit of engineering logic, fix it with a dose of interplanetary space exploration, sprinkle with lots of nonsensical bullshit and turn it into something amusing.
100KV 07092018 1550
200KV 20122018 0808
300KV 24022019 2200
400kv 29052019 0100
500kv 01092019 0100
600kv 27022020 0100
700kv 12032021 0100
800kv 08042022 0100
1006022 25062024 0849