Friday, August 24, 2007

Melville - The Fountain -

And how nobly it raises our conceit of the mighty, misty monster, to behold him solemnly sailing through a calm tropical sea; his vast, mild head overhung by a canopy of vapor, engendered by his incommunicable contemplations, and that vapor --as you will sometimes see it --glorified by a rainbow, as if Heaven itself had put its seal upon his thoughts. For, d'ye see, rainbows do not visit the clear air; they only irradiate vapor.

And so, through all the thick mists of the dim doubts in my mind, divine intuitions now and then shoot, enkindling my fog with a heavenly ray. And for this I thank God; for all have doubts; many deny; but doubts or denials, few along with them, have intuitions. Doubts of all things earthly, and intuitions of some things heavenly; this combination makes neither believer nor infidel, but makes a man who regards them both with equal eye.

Friday, August 3, 2007

A song you'll recognize and not remember ... beautiful.



I'm just a tad older than you guys, but this was a great Album Rock station song back then ...

BO

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Quote of the Week - Melville - Chapter 68 - The Blanket

For the whale is indeed wrapt up in his blubber as in a real blanket or counterpane; or, still better, an Indian poncho slipt over his head, and skirting his extremity. It is by reason of this cosy blanketing of his body, that the whale is enabled to keep himself comfortable in all weathers, in all seas, times, and tides. What would become of a Greenland whale, say, in those shuddering, icy seas of the North, if unsupplied with his cosy surtout? True, other fish are found exceedingly brisk in those Hyperborean waters; but these, be it observed, are your cold-blooded, lungless fish, whose very bellies are refrigerators; creatures, that warm themselves under the lee of an iceberg, as a traveller in winter would bask before an inn fire; whereas, like man, the whale has lungs and warm blood. Freeze his blood, and he dies. How wonderful is it then- except after explanation- that this great monster, to whom corporeal warmth is as indispensable as it is to man; how wonderful that he should be found at home, immersed to his lips for life in those Arctic waters! where, when seamen fall overboard, they are sometimes found, months afterwards, perpendicularly frozen into the hearts of fields of ice, as a fly is found glued in amber. But more surprising is it to know, as has been proved by experiment, that the blood of a Polar whale is warmer than that of a Borneo negro in summer.
It does seem to me, that herein we see the rare virtue of a strong individual vitality, and the rare virtue of thick walls, and the rare virtue of interior spaciousness. Oh, man! admire and model thyself after the whale! Do thou, too, remain warm among ice. Do thou, too, live in this world without being of it. Be cool at the equator; keep thy blood fluid at the Pole. Like the great dome of St. Peter's, and like the great whale, retain, O man! in all seasons a temperature of thine own.

Who knew? Obama for President!

WASHINGTON - Democratic presidential candidate Barack Obama called Wednesday for a harder line against Al Qaeda operatives hiding in tribal areas of Pakistan even at the risk of undercutting the American ally who leads the Muslim state.
The Illinois senator even threatened to use U.S. military force in those areas if Pakistani President Pervez Musharraf did not.
"I understand that President Musharraf has his own challenges. But let me make this clear," Obama said. "If we have actionable intelligence about high-value terrorist targets and President Musharraf will not act, we will."
The Bush Administration has followed a delicate strategy in Pakistan. The White House has prodded Musharraf, a key ally in the struggle against the Taliban, to take stronger steps against terrorist havens while also taking care not to undermine a leader who maintains a tenuous hold on power and faces an internal challenge from Islamic fundamentalists.

Wow, the silence is deafening...

I'll take a spin at the "Quote of the Week". This one is truly inspiring and sure to warm the cockles of tree hugging hippy hearts.

Kathleen Meyer, How to Shit in the Woods:

"People - corporate lawyers, philandering spouses, presidential candidates -
always want to know how to bury their shit. This chapter spells out
precisely where and how to dig holes that promote rapid decomposition of feces
and prevent contamination of waterways, thereby providing the best protection
for the health of humans, the remainder of the animal kingdom, and the
planet. Before we can hope to fathom how great is the importance of
properly digging our own small on-sit hole (also termed cat hold) in the bush,
it's necessary to try to envision our shit in the global sense. Try is the
trick here.

Exactly where does the world's collective excrement go? Not a pleasant question. How often do any of us think about where it goes after it's sucked down the hold at the bottom of the bowl? Possibly never. Such reflections tend to detour our
consciousness, barring those rare occasions when we have to call Roto-Rooter.

Approached from any angle, the actual physical dimensions of this pile of yuck produced upon our globe befuddle imagining."