By: EarlB, 4:36 AM GMT on February 29, 2008
Driving in the dark
I saw diamonds,
Diamonds in the air,
I'd have been wealthy,
But I didn't stop.
Driving in the morning light,
I saw the crystal,
Crystal wrapping all.
I could have see the future,
The time to come,
But I didn't stop.
In fading shades of gray
Through broken glass,
Glass that is tearing at me,
Flensing skin from bone:
What was once familiar
Is no more.
Through darkening skies:
Updated: 4:41 AM GMT on February 29, 2008
By: EarlB, 10:34 PM GMT on February 17, 2008
I was reading Derek Walcott's "A Village Life" and I found
the inspiration for this entry when I read in part II about
"the subterranean freight of human souls" in his description
of people riding the subway.
The mystery of inspiration took over: I pictured those souls flowing along
on rails, but the rails quickly changed to veins, and the souls to blood
cells flowing through them. It was an instantaneous transformation, the
souls didn't resemble cells, they WERE cells.
Continuing in the arc of the leap, I remembered a popular concept
of the 1970's, that of "Gaia", which describes the Earth as an organism,
with all on earth, a contributor to the Earth-Body. My soul-cell image
began to fit into the romantic concept of Mother Earth.
Our purpose, we blood cells, is to carry nourishment to the body, we like
to tell ourselves of our importance in this world, we are makers of tools,
conceivers of ideas, we must be the earth's hemoglobin. But, we can be
conceivers of not so brilliant ideas, we could be cells, but cells gone wild:
are humans more properly a cancer of a lifeform? Are we the lice on the
body of the beauty?
The Gaia theory is at best arguable, probably unprovable. And maybe we wouldn't
be able to accept the truth if it were known. It would be a hard lesson
learned that would have us go from master to servant.
Updated: 2:00 PM GMT on February 19, 2008
By: EarlB, 12:37 PM GMT on February 02, 2008
Dateline Metompkin, VA February 2, 2008
At precisely 7:09am GST (Groundhog Standard Time) Virginia's Eastern Shore
resident and very own prognosticator, Metompkin Max, fulfilled his yearly
duty by rubbing the sleep from his eyes, observing weather conditions and
"It's bright up here! Too bright for me, I'm going back to bed! Wake me
in six weeks when Winter's over!" So ended our hopes for an early Spring.
Wispy ground fog threatened putting a caveat in the forecast, and
Max was heard to grumble "I don't want any caveat with my forecast, I never
did like those salty fish eggs!"
Max, who never ever minces words, was quick and to the point as usual. And
some say a bit more terse than ever before. His offspring, Max XVII is two,
and "terrible" applies to ALL children of that age, apparently.
Poppa Max needs his sleep!
Max (XVI) is the nephew of the exalted forecaster of southeastern
Pennsylvania, Octorara Orphie. Both are of the Marmotus rex clan, fabled
forecasters and general shunners of publicity (unlike "that Phil guy, a
Marmotus familiaris, who'd do anything for a camera"). Max resides with his
family on the Amos Stoltzfus farm in suburban Metompkin, VA. This year the
Metompkin Slumbering Groundhog Lodge sent an ambassador to honor
Orphie on this his one hundreth year of forecasting. Our Colonel of Truth
(our archivist), Larry Blivin will be representing Max in Quarryville, PA.
Congratulations Uncle Orphie!
Max would be the first to caution us that February is known for it's surprize
snowstorms, so be vigilant, keep your woodpile dry, and keep a smile in
your hearts, Spring is just around the corner, after all.
Happy Candlemas day, y'all.
To check on other prognosticators, go to www.groundhogsday.com click
on "Groundhog Central"
Respectfully submitted by Earl Frederick (Sec. Gen. Slumbering Groundhog Lodge #46)
Updated: 9:05 PM GMT on February 02, 2008