The Maverick

I think 1987 was a great year.  I was in love with Teresa Wells.  On Jan. 8th the dow closed above 2000 for the first time(the exclamation point that will follow this statement is supposed to be funny)!  The Twinkies were the underdogs that shocked baseball; gave us the Homer Hanky and won the World Series.  I was growing up in a little Minnesotan town called Blue Earth.  Life was simple and I was a dreamer.  I remember hearing about the Iran Contra Affair and thinking there's no way Reagan was a bad man.  I lived in America, and American Presidents were Heroes, and Heroes didn't do those kind of things.  But, he did do those things and in all fairness the ripened plant he picked those seeds from was planted long before he got there.   I was 10 and if I was 20 I would have been considered ignorant by some.  Yet, there are so many of us grown-ups acting like 10 year olds.  So, was I an ignorant 10 year old?  I don't think so.  It is an indisputable fact that every single individual on this earth is unique to her or his own experiences and we as individuals must, as I am able to see it, start embracing it.  Heck if the Minnesota Twins can win a World Series, so can you!  Or, something like that.

I wonder, just what direction are we headed?  Many are compelled to say that we don't have a say in the matter; that the powers that be make the rules and we follow.  I guess we are just peasants in the matter?  Or, maybe we are just afraid to take the reigns?  The truth, as I see it, is that it's a balance of both and the real struggle is finding it, then accepting it as it is; seeing ourselves, seeing the road we travel, and seeing the consequences of our causes.  This might be the greatest right of passage humanity as ever faced.  But, you know, we're not alone; because we wouldn't have a thing if it wasn't for our mothers and fathers who took those reigns and made the world what they wanted.  How many of those reigns of life do we have a hold of?  Where are these reigns and how do we grab them?  For some of us it requires picking up a gun and saying no.  For some of us it requires picking up a book and saying yes.  For all of us it requires asking ourselves which will produce the very best for ourselves.   Just remember, animosity will never remove animosity.  

Recently, on November 7th the Syrian Ambassador to the United States, Dr. Imad Moustapha, spoke to the Commonwealth Club in San Fransisco, CA.  The reoccurring theme of his speech was humble and grounded in wisdom; that Syria respects the current U.S. Administration and it's struggles, but hopes that the next administration will be able to respect Syria and it's struggles; that democracy can only be reached by ones own work; that values and morals can not be exported.  Because, it is an indisputable fact that every single individual on this earth is unique to her or his own experiences and you'd be surprised how many similarities we can find when contrasting the behaviour of individuals to the behaviours of nations and of course we know that individuals created nations.  Lets also remember that Syria stood by us on the battle field during Desert Storm.  211 years ago the Treaty of Tripoli was approved by the John Adams administration.  Since we had no navy at the time to protect our merchant ships in the Mediterranean, we signed the treaty with the Ottoman Corsairs in order to achieve safe passage.  Article 11 of that treaty reads: "As the Government of the United States of America is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion; as it has in itself no character of enmity against the laws, religion, or tranquillity, of Musselmen; and, as the said States never entered into any war, or act of hostility against any Mahometan nation, it is declared by the parties, that no pretext arising from religious opinions, shall ever produce an interruption of the harmony existing between the two countries."  And, then of course we can read the 1st amendment: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances."  On the surface our conflicts are said to be in the name of these things, but the reality, as I am able to see it, is that today's conflicts are taring down the example our mothers and fathers started to create.

As I see it, forced change is not democracy and any hopes of democracy blossoming out of direct force are nothing but throwing seeds over sand.  I wonder, on average, how many choices one of us makes in any given day?  I also wonder, on average, how many complaints one of us realizes in any given day?  I wonder, on average, how many of the choices one of us makes in any given day take away, on average, choices of another.  And then I wonder, how much blame one of us takes on, voluntary, in any given day?  I think the rudimentary element of democracy that makes it seem so alluring to the individual is it's allowance of change; giving us the ability to search for the reigns; giving us the ability to learn how to manage them so we can, once and for all, be responsible for the consequences of our causes.  This may indeed be the greatest right of passage humanity has ever faced.  I think the greatness though lies simply in the sheer number of us that will grab our hearts and grow up.  Or, something like that.

This is my first article and I would like to dedicate it to all my family and friends.  But, especially to my Dad and both my Grandfathers who've passed on; all celebrating being born Nov. 28th.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? (Sonnet 18)

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to Time thou grow’st.
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

William Shakespeare

The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heav’ns, a shining frame,
Their great original procl..
Th’ unwearied Sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator’s power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty Hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The Moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the list’ning Earth
Repeats the story of her birth:
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets, in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though, in solemn silence, all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In Reason’s ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
’The Hand that made us is Divine.’

Joseph Addison

I am homeless.

I search for a place that I once felt save and innocent.

I can not say whether there was such a place or not.

There must have been.

Have I chosen to forget it?

I am so tired and I have no place to rest.

You could say that it is depression.

There is enough reason to justify it.

That I need some kind of medicine.

Something to numb my thoughts.

Something to trick my senses and delude my intuition.

Maybe so much of what I see is truly horrible.

There is no way man can exist in disharmony.

And there is no doubt that I am a God fearing man.

The universe shows you there is only one way.

We are witnessing the age of consequence.

I hope you will find sympathy.

I hope I find a home.

.

Bubbles of air in the 800,000-year-old ice, drilled in the Antarctic, show levels of carbon dioxide (CO2) changing with the climate. But the present levels are out of the previous range.

On Monday, Eric Wolff, leader of the science team for the European Project for Ice Coring in Antarctica, said: "It is from air bubbles that we know for sure that carbon dioxide has increased by about 35% in the last 200 years."

Wolff, speaking at the British Association Festival of Science in the UK, said: "Before the last 200 years, which man has been influencing, it was pretty steady.

"The natural level of carbon dioxide for most of the past 800,000 years has been 180-300 parts per million by volume (ppmv) of air. But today it is at 380 ppmv.

"The most scary thing is that carbon dioxide today is not just out of the range of what happened in the last 650,000 years but already 100% out of the range."

Climate impact

Carbon dioxide was at levels of 280 ppmv from 1000 CE until 1800 CE, before accelerating towards its present concentration.

"There is an urgent need to find innovative technologies to reduce the impact we are having on our climate" Professor Peter Smith, University of Nottingham, UK

Wolff added that measurements of carbon isotopes indicated that the extra carbon dioxide is coming from a fossil source, due to increased human activity.

The ice core record showed that it used to take about 1,000 years for a carbon dioxide increase of 30 ppmv.

It has risen by that much in the past 17 years alone.

"We really are in a situation where something is happening that we don't have any analogue for in our records. It is an experiment that we don't know the result of," he said.

Peter Smith, of the University of Nottingham in England, said the study showed that more is needed to be done to combat the rising levels.

"There is an urgent need to find innovative technologies to reduce the impact we are having on our climate," he told the science conference.

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, the low and the high,
Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.

The infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother that infant's affection who proved;
The husband, that mother and infant who blessed;
Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure - her triumphs are by;
And the memory of those who loved her and praised,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So the multitude goes - like the flower or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes - even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.

For we are the same that our fathers have been;
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen;
We drink the same stream, we feel the same sun,
And run the same course that our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink;
To the life we are clinging, they also would cling -
But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.

They loved - but the story we cannot unfold;
They scorned - but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved - but no wail from their slumber will come;
They joyed - but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

They died - aye, they died - we things that are now,
That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

'Tis the wink of an eye - 'tis the draught of a breath -
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

William Knox

simply known that I can
simply decided that I should
one step became a leap
not with any type of physical exsertion
but to simply come across

there is almost nothing to resist
and it seems that it is all in my head
at the same time I did not fret over why
and my movement was as simple as I am
as I accept it became greater
and by its very nature there is no limit

all is one for me to experience
this is my time here to create
all who have eyes to see will see
and all who have ears to hear will listen
the day is grand and the night is grander
in one step a dream became a theme
and in one step a dream became a banner
the original model after which all others have followed
and in this dream I fly