Looking Back on the Jubilee, Syria, Paranormal Experiences, a Sandal Wears Out, an Avian Rescue and Something from Sid

Looking Back on the Jubilee

I've just reviewed the blog posting of November 12, 2011, and it is still pertinent.  Read all about the Jubilee, as defined in the Book of Leviticus, and its application to our present day economic mess.  Go back and read it now.  Quickest way is to type the word "Jubilee" in the search box off to the right down towards the bottom.  I cannot imagine either Presidential candidate, regardless of their religious convictions, supporting these Biblical injunctions.  

No More Poll

We're removing the "poll" from the blog, folks.  Over the past seven days, during which there have been two postings, we've had about 135 "hits" in the United States and about 35 overseas, but only four responses to the "poll."  Perhaps it will come back during the week or two preceding the Presidential election, but for now, it is history.  (As for the question we asked, three of the four responders said that felons, once they've completely paid their debt to society, should be allowed to vote.  The fourth agreed, but said "not immediately.")

Syria

Stratfor, a private intelligence-gathering service, recently posted the following information regarding Syria.  It pretty much sums up the situation in that troubled land.  

"You probably hear about the Syria uprising every day. News agencies run stories of human atrocities and pontificate about Western intervention, but these stories don't tell you the endgame.  

The U.S. has left Iraq, and Iran is ready to fill the resultant power vacuum and raise its stature in the region. Syria is the current battleground for this wider struggle. Turkey, Saudi Arabia and the United States want to add Syria to the coalition of states counterbalancing Iran. Iran, on the other hand, needs to keep Syria as a strong ally in the Levant as a check on Israel. 

Then there are the Russians, whose relationship with the Syrians grants them access to the Mediterranean Sea and gives them leverage on the West.

What happens in Syria matters to all of us." 

                                  

  (For a more thorough treatment of this subject, go to www.stratfor.com.)

 

Jack Lippman

                                                        

                                                     

A Quote Worth Your Attention in this Election Year

"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored.”
  Aldous Huxley


This is very applicable to members of Congress, regardless of party, who put their own agenda before a clear course of action dictated by "facts."  


                                                         




A Shopping Experience

One sole on my old pair of flip-flops came off the other day and since they were about six years old, I threw them away.  I decided to buy a new pair, but this time, I sought a particular brand of which I have an even older pair and which still looks and feels great.  I found what I wanted online but my usual online store, Amazon.com, did not carry them.  Sears' web site did however, and they were on sale for 50% off as well.  But instead of buying them online from Sears and paying a $5 shipping charge, I went to a nearby Sears store after verifying online that they had my size in stock.  I found them and bought them.  

The store, however, had them tagged at the full price, and when the cash register indeed did confirm that they indeed were reduced 50%, the sales person was surprised that neither the price tag nor a sign at the display devoted to that particular brand reflected it.  So when you read that Sears may be headed for bankruptcy, don't be so quick to blame the economy.  It's the little things like this that add up to get poorly managed businesses  into trouble.

JL

                                                               

The Tunnel of Light

Harvey Sage, whose contribution to this posting appears below, also sent us this fine poem written by his friend, Theron White, who tells us of what appears to be a near death experience.

Did You See the Tunnel of Light? "Did you see the Tunnel of Light?" In the ER, they love the story: Flat-liner from death untimely ripped. Igor turned up the voltage, they joked. No, I said. They say What a baby sees in birth Is a Tunnel of Light, and beyond A world he hadn't dreamt of. No, I said. Who can remember his birth? Who can remember his death? In Joyland, the Tunnel of Love Is grown up in weeds. Gone are The whispers and stolen kisses. They text their love in the ER. This is it, I said, when I knew I would die. At the Third Word of the Seven, I was released-- It went black -- and awake in the ER, came To me the miracle, not of return, But I had trusted my life to hands I have never seen.

The poem reminded me of a story I heard from a woman over coffee recently.  The conversation had turned to the kind of things we call paranormal experiences, such as what the poem might be describing.  She recalled that as a teen-ager, one day sitting on her porch, she saw her body rise from where she remained sitting and float or walk away, heading down the street.  She knew she was still on the porch, but her body … or something … had left her and she could see it departing.  Panicking, she got up and chased after it, urging it to come back, which it did, returning to where it belonged. She assured me that there were no drugs nor alcohol involved and that she had been awake throughout the entire experience. 

  I wonder whether, if she had not gotten whatever it was that she saw leaving her body to return, would she have died? Was this a "near death" experience?  Did it have religious significance to her, as the experience in the poem seems to have had for the poet?  Have you out there had any paranormal experiences?  Let’s hear about them.  Even anonymously.

JL  

                                                  

FEATHERED FRIEND 

Harvey Sage   (Based on a true incident) 

Doctor Karlo was out walking Early in the morning so there’d be no talking.  He glanced down and looked at his feet And saw a bundle at the side of the street.  Karlo is a hardnosed right winger. Yet when he saw that the bundle was a baby bird, he stooped over and picked it up. “Got to get you off the street little one before you get run over.” Was this anyway for a Tea Party Republican to act? He felt the birdling’s warmth. “Good. I see that you’re alive. Momma’s not around. I guess I’ll have to care for you.” Karlo brought the critter home.

His wife, Pam, thought he was nuts. “Why are we taking care of the bird? There are government agencies to take care of lost people and animals.” (Is his wife a Democrat?) She pointed at their two small dogs. “What are we running here, a zoo?”

Karlo gently put the bird in a basket and proceeded to give it water, which the bird eventually swallowed. She suggested that they try giving the little one moist dog food. Dr. Karlo, an ever obedient husband, did so. To their delight the bird pecked at it and swallowed. Now what to do?

                                     

For the next few days they nursed the bird back to health with water and dog food. The bird and the dogs eyed each other warily and it was obvious that Little One, as the bird was named, had to go. But to where? Pam called Animal Control and explained their plight. They were told by the receptionist (Republican or Democrat) that harboring wildlife was a class 3 misdemeanor. “But we saved its life,” she told A.C.

“No matter. If you want to care for wildlife you must submit Form Z32AD in triplicate. And make sure it’s notarized. Then we’ll send someone over, an A.C. tech and he’ll determine what to do. What is your name and address?” Pam was smart and hung up to avoid bureaucratic entanglement.

Soon Little One was ambulatory, sniffing and waging his hindquarters. It was time to let the bird loose since it was obvious that he was an Independent. So, after a final meal of dog food Karl and Pam brought the bird outside and placed it on the ground. Then it gave them a look (appreciation?), lifted its leg to pee, finished and began flying away, intermittently barking and chirping merrily.

Be thoughtful of what you give a bird to eat

It may not be bird food, though you think it’s a treat

If it is dog food containing meat

The bird may bark instead of tweet.

                                                     

Sid’s Corner

Relationships      (Written in December 2002)

Sid Bolotin                            

Anita sped her vintage, restored VW up the winding driveway to her parent’s house. She was just bursting to tell her parents about her new relationship, her new love. As she passed under the towering Maples that lined both sides of the roadway, she remembered her days as a tomboy climbing them to lodge herself securely in their embracing branches, while she read romance novels and daydreamed of becoming the heroine in each story. She smiled thoughtfully as she realized that she was now the heroine of her own romance.                               

As the car exited the canopy of trees to enter the circular drive, Anita‘s breath caught in her throat as it always did when she sighted the grandeur of her family’s mansion perched on the bluff overlooking Boston harbor. She skidded the VW to a stop in front of the stairs, leaped out, and raced up the twenty marble steps to the front door.
                          
                                   

Throwing open the door she bounded into the foyer calling out, “Mummy? Daddy? Where are you? I’m here! I have wonderful news!”

“We’re in the library, dear. Her mother called out. “Dad and I are just having our usual afternoon drink in front of the fire. Come on in.”

“Oh, Mummy, Daddy, I’m so happy,” Anita bubbled as she bounced into the mahogany-paneled room. After quickly pecking each of them on the cheek, she flopped onto an overstuffed loveseat, tucked her legs under her, and beamed at her parents.

“Well, Anita, don’t just sit there like a Cheshire cat,” her father commanded with a puff of his ever-present cigar. “Come out with it. What is it this time? Are you pregnant again?”

“Yes, yes,” interjected Mummy, “please tell us. What is your wonderful news?”

Ignoring Daddy’s last quip, Anita answered, “Well, guys, I’m in a new relationship and head-over-heels in love. I’ve never been so happy. This is it for me. No more singles bars, no more personal ads, and no more blind dates. This one is the one.”

“Humph,” grumbled her father, “I’ve heard this before. I’ll believe it when I see it. All those other guys were also ‘the one’. I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve repeated this scene. Ten?  Or is it closer to twenty? And each one of those was better than the last.”

“Yes, dear, Dad’s right. This seems like a perpetual replay. You’re almost thirty now, and we’ve given up that you’d ever commit to a long-term relationship. You’ve been such a butterfly, flitting from    lover to lover, that dad and I have resigned our selves to never becoming grandparents.”

“Oh don’t worry, Mummy,” Anita chuckled, “you will be grand parents and sooner than you think”

“Oh, no,” Mummy gasped, “you are pregnant.”

“No, no, I’m not pregnant. And, anyhow, we plan to adopt. We both want to help a child from China, Korea, or the Balkans. Chris feels very strongly about this; and I do too. It’s like we’re of one mind, like soul mates.”

“Oh, Anita, don’t do this to us,” Mummy cried out as she began to sob. “Think of our standing in the community. Don’t impose a foreign or racially different grandchild on us. What will our friends say? Where does Chris come from? Liberals? Do-gooders? Why not have your own? You’re still able. Your biological clock is still ticking. Please, Anita. This could even give your father a stroke. You know how your father feels about maintaining his lineage with his cronies at the country club.”

Anita’s father sat in stunned silence, his face was florid, and his eyes were almost popping out of their sockets as he sputtered, “That’s right, Anita. Your escapades have brought enormous embarrassment and sometimes shame on our heads. The drugs and the repeated running away broke our hearts. I’m not going to let you initiate more whispers in the club behind my back. I’ll pound sense into you and Chris. What is

he, some kind of bleeding liberal? Why can’t he be a man and father his own children? Give me his full name and phone number. I’ll straighten this out.”

 “No you won’t, Daddy. Not this time. I know what I want.  What Chris and I want. Even you can’t control this relationship. But go ahead; call if you want to. Chris’ phone number is (617) 555-0136.  Her full name is Christine Goldberg, and she’s the cantor at Temple Torah in Boston.”

                                                     


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Check all of them out, find out what “drek” really means and feel free to submit your thoughts and articles for publication on these sites, which, while still “under construction,” already contain some interesting content.

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Jack Lippman

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