Hobnobbing with the Philosophers: Ronna, Quetta, Ronto, Quecto

Detail from “The School of Athens”
a fresco by Raphael (1483 – 1520)
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Maik Strosahl

[Note: Last week I trucked my final load—for the foreseeable future anyway—and yesterday I began working in the Dollar General office as a Fleet Supervisor, basically managing about 20 drivers, most of whom I have trained over the last three months. So, having pulled off the highways and byways for now, I’m adopting a new title for my column, a phrase I’ve been partial to ever since I used it in my poem “When It All Came Falling Down” (May 5, 2021), which was inspired by a quote from Albert Camus.]

Love your enemies deciphered in quartina

Click to enlarge

10 Years Ago Today

By Moristotle

[Published originally on November 29, 2012.]

According to the Gospel of Matthew (5:44, King James Version), Jesus said:

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

Rave Book Review: It Really Is Simple

A life-changing book

Reviewed by 

Geoffrey Dean

Over the last six months I have experienced intense and exponential growth in my creativity, self-confidence, and capacity to find meaning and joy in everything I do. Changes in diet and exercise have played an important role in this, but the courage and motivation to make these changes, and the determination to stick with them with a level of consistency I have rarely achieved before, are attributable to a life-changing book that I read last spring. Alexandra Dotcheva’s It Really Is Simple is a compellingly-written, comprehensive guide to achieving the kind of life you want for yourself and your loved ones. It is all about setting very specific goals and mastering the steps to achieving them.

All Over the Place: A Dormitory Too Many Wish to Enter

By Michael H. Brownstein

In the dormitory of perfect birds there lives a passion for perfect violence

and you go into old age with all of your lies,

reminiscing by the telling of these lies

until every lie you know
is a lie you own
alone.
But everything is OK—
leave this place and let
your life live out somewhere else.

Copyright © 2022 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively.

Acting Citizen: Old Enough to Understand

FWD
(front wheel drive)

By James Knudsen

In his September column, “At Random: Things I Will Never Be Old Enough to Understand,” Paul Clark (aka motomynd), chronicled some things he doesn’t like or just doesn’t get. Front wheel drive (FWD) made the list, and from his column it seems to fall in the category of something he doesn’t like. As the son of an early adopter of the FWD train layout (see my “Fourth Saturday’s Loneliest Liberal: About the Panhard,” November 2014), I found this troubling to the point of offensive, and so, today’s defense.

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (79) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Thursday,
January 10, 1924,
concluded

The dog finally stopped whimpering, the shouting went on, and Red saw something. The army tent had a short wall of interwoven branches about four feet high, and above it he spied a head of black hair, thinning on top. A man sitting up with his back to Red, like from a bunk, who then shouted at someone else to get down.

Goines On: Thanksgoings

Click image for more vignettes
Thanks to Linnea Desktop Calendars
for their November from 2011

The day after his blood was drawn for his annual physical exam the next week, Goines felt upbeat and hopeful – and thankful. As usual on the day of the draw, Goines had fixed breakfast for himself and Mrs. Goines, but he refrained from having his, because he had been advised not to eat or even drink coffee until after his blood was drawn. The draw was scheduled for 10:50 a.m., by which time he would have been fasting for almost 17 hours. He poured his coffee into a thermos and put his cereal and diced fruits in plastic containers and stored them and two 6-oz. bottles of probiotic smoothies in the refrigerator until time to leave for Chapel Hill.

Highways and Byways: A Turkey Buzzard Thanksgiving

By Maik Strosahl

Just down the road from my house, I had to pull over to get a photo of red berries in the November sunset.

From “The Scratching Post”: Sexual musings, Part 2

By Ken Marks

[Opening from the original on The Scratching Post, November 20, 2022, published here by permission of the author.]

The roots of the Modern Era of human sexuality are improbable and deep. They reach down into the heart of the Scientific Revolution, which began five centuries ago and lasted about two centuries. In this interval, the giants of early science lived—Nicolaus Copernicus, Tycho Brahe, Johannes Kepler, Galileo Galilei, René Descartes, Christiaan Huygens, and Isaac Newton. Together, they swept away virtually everything the ancient Greeks had to say about the cosmos. The Earth lost its prestige as the center of all that is. Everything beyond the Moon’s orbit was once thought to be forever fixed, but thanks to the ingenuity of Dutch lens grinders, astronomers saw novae and comets deep in the reaches of space. They calculated that the paths of planets were elliptical, not circular. They discovered that the Moon’s terrain was uneven and mountainous, not smooth and polished as Aristotle had supposed. The Earth, always thought to be stationary, had to be moving through space at an incredible speed, and with it, its atmosphere and everything on its surface! Newton brought the revolution to its climax by explaining the movement of celestial bodies entirely in terms of mathematical laws. It was as if man had looked into God’s mind.
    One cannot have lived during this era without feeling unmoored. Recall that the Reformation had begun, and the Age of Discovery was well underway. The Catholic Church was buckling, and half the world was a fresh mystery. Descartes threw a lifeline to all of Europe—doubt everything, rely on reason, break problems into parts, solve the simplest parts first, submit your work to the scrutiny of others. The scientific method was launched, and the esteem for reason as a tool for good was secured.
    The question arose, how else might reason be applied? To society, to governance, and to economics, of course. These became the topics of discourse among educated and comfortable people. They spearheaded a new era, the Enlightenment, or, as I prefer, the Age of Reason. Among its leading lights were Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, David Hume, Adam Smith, Nicolas de Condorcet, Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and Thomas Paine. These men were by no means unanimous in advocating for the rights of women. Rousseau, for example, wrote that women were subordinate to men and should obey them. But Locke disagreed, asserting that the notion of male superiority was a male fabrication. Condorcet advocated for female political equality, and Voltaire, on the death of his lover, wrote, “I have lost one who was my friend for twenty-five years, a great man whose only defect was being a woman.”
    Women entered the discourse about women’s rights through social venues, such as salons, coffee houses, and debating societies. Salons were held in private homes or hotel dining rooms. Though they were led by women with elite connections, women of lower classes and less education could attend. In fact, they often used a salon to socialize more widely and improve their educations. Coffee houses entertained a broader clientele. Some were run by women, and these did little to restrain the speech of their female patrons. Debating societies held their meetings in rented halls, and attendees paid an admission fee. At first, they were dominated by men, but eventually their gatherings became mixed-gender events and sometimes women-only events. Unlike salons, women participated as equals.
    Writing became an ideal occupation for many educated women. It was a way to express their minds and do so at their convenience and anywhere they liked. Mary Wollstonecraft and Olympe de Gouges wrote declarations and vindications of women’s rights, and Catherine Macaulay advocated for the education of women. Women in Europe and America had found their voices.
    From the early 1800s to the present, women have steadily worn down the bastions of male dominance in the West. I want to dwell on the events that were hammer blows to the status quo….
[Read the whole thing on The Scratching Post.]

Copyright © 2022 by Ken Marks Ken Marks was a contributing editor with Paul Clark & Tom Lowe when “Moristotle” became “Moristotle & Co.” A brilliant photographer, witty conversationalist, and elegant writer, Ken contributed photographs, essays, and commentaries from mid-2008 through 2012. Late in 2013, Ken birthed the blog The Scratching Post. He also posts albums of his photos on Flickr.

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (78) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Thursday,
January 10, 1924,
5:00 AM

As the column of cars and trucks crawled through the predawn darkness along the raised marl and sand roads heading into Gomez Grant, with water on either side, Red Dedge was skeptical.
    This was the third raid against the Ashleys he’d been on, two with Saint Lucie County John Merritt, who was not one damn bit happy with his latest volunteer. The memory of losing a lawsuit to this young man, or rather buying his way out of it, was too fresh.

All Over the Place: Do You Die When You Hit the Water or During the Fall?

By Michael H. Brownstein

—for John Berryman

The noise of morning rises with the cream of dawn:

it is I who opens the gate to Samael,

it is I who finds window glass wanting,

it is I who no longer wishes to wait,

it is I who seek entrance with Thyone.

From the Alwinac: Catching Up: My Most Recent Cello Performance Videos

[Click on image to
go directly to
the Alwinac’s home page]

[The Alwinac blog is part of the schroeder170 project, honoring the life and musical career of cellist Alwin Schroeder (1855-1928) and exploring the history of cello playing in the US.]

Earlier in the year I was able to record a handful of cello pieces to add to the collection on my YouTube channel, and today I actually added them to the collection! Of course there is a story behind each of these pieces, and I hope to get around to telling these stories in the near future. For now, here are the video links, with some suggestions for further reading and my wish for pleasant listening.
    F. Prume, Melancolie, Op. 1. Several European cellists, George Knoop and Theodore Ahrend among them, played versions of this once-popular violin piece after settling in the United States. Read my post about Ahrend here. The Knoop story is on the way.…    _______________
Read on….

Copyright © 2022 by Geoffrey Dean

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (77) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Thursday,
October 7, 1923,
5:30 PM

With belts and cleats, Red Dedge had gone up near the top of a towering cypress, with Rufus, also belted onto the tree, as his second saw man. They gauged the wind, the slight angle of the tree itself, the seemingly insignificant branches high, high up here on the top. Branches that contained much of the water sucked up by these massive swamp giants, tons of it.

Fiction: Thanksgiving(a short story)

By Pat Hamilton

Billy said, “Thanksgiving was always my favorite holiday for more than the fifty first years of my life. Of course I don’t remember my first few feasts, but in the photographs, my dad’s father and my dad’s sister were there at the table with us, grinning bigger than I ever saw them grin, along with Ma’s aunt and her husband, you know: all the old relations who died long ago had gathered round the table, smiling and hungry, all politics aside, driven actually mad by hours of aromas, the men in suits and ties, the ladies in pearls, hair fresh from the beauty shop, the air throughout the whole small house aromatic of old ladies and all their mingling perfumes.”

The PocketRock Heart Project: Update—A Pebble for a Rock

By Maik Strosahl

While handing out rocks as part of my PocketRock Heart Project (shared here on Moristotle & Co. in eight parts from December 2021 – February 2022), there have been several very moving moments. Thought I would take a moment to share one of those with you this week.

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (76) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Thursday,
December 15, 1921,
6:00 AM

The Lorelei, piloted solo by Anson “Bo” Stokes, led the Angelica, with Jim White and Alton Davis aboard. The north wind and winter swells buffeted their loaded boats, fetching their bows first up, then sideways and down, enough to make the average man puke his toenails up, or “chum the water” as they said when fishing.
    Their heading was north by northwest, having cruised from Rum Cay in South Bimini due west until clearing the Gulf Stream, then turned north towards the harbor used by the Rice gang. They would enter Jupiter Inlet, then follow the Loxahatchee River deep into the Everglades.

Frailty, dementia, and the loss of laughter

An attempt at humor
about something
few find funny

By James T. Carney

Motivated by the Yale News article, “Frailty, dementia raise mortality risk for older Americans after surgery,” about a study by Yale researchers that found striking differences in the mortality rate of older Americans within a year of their having major surgery, I have been reading a book on aging written by a medical doctor.

All Over the Place: A New Development on Ash Street

By Michael H. Brownstein

Since I went to see how the drunks on Ash Street were doing (January 31, 2021), there has been a new development.
    Smell has a lot to do with many things. When I would get off the train at 51^st or 43^rd, walk down the street or cross large patches of empty lots, sometimes the smell of violence permeated everything. For the most part, I knew on those days teaching would be difficult. When the odors were clean, I knew my day would be easier. This is also the way with racism.

Goines On: The E.U. coin zone

Click image for more vignettes
(That’s Sacré-Coeur Basilica in 2021,
out the Goineses‘ apartment window)

Goines cottoned quickly onto shops’ ways of stating prices, alternatively “1€90” or “€1.90,” and he liked being able to use the same coins and currency in both France and Germany.

    He had mastered the size difference between 1-euro and 2-euro coins and between 1-cent and 5-cent coins, the design difference between 1-euro and 50-cent coins, and the shape difference between 1-euro and 20-cent coins. But he wished they’d banish 2-cent coins, which would simplify the task of distinguishing among the relatively insignificant copper-clads.

Remembering Our Military Veterans

For all those who wore a uniform

By Ed Rogers

Today, November 11, 2022, we celebrate the Armistice of World War I (at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918). That was the war H.G. Wells said in 1914 would end all wars. But it didn’t quite work out. So, in 1954, the day was renamed to honor all those who wore a uniform.

    Happy Veterans Day to those who made it back, and may God hold in his hand our brothers and sisters who did not come home – may he hold them until the day we join them.
    Pictured from the left to the right: Ortega, Sucki (I never could pronounce his name, but that’s what we called him), and a young Ed Rogers.

Copyright © 2022 by Ed Rogers

Fiction: Sixteenth Anniversary(a short story)

By Pat Hamilton

Billy: “There’s only one God, and it ain’t you.”
    Paula has caught him writing at the computer to someone named Lisa. She doesn’t attack him immediately. Then she does, but Billy protests, “To cheat on a spouse is a sin. A bigger sin is to stamp out love wherever it has established a tenuous foothold in lives. An even bigger one is to play God and pretend to decide which love is good and which love you get to stamp out.”

Highways and Byways: Life of a Thousand Papercuts

By Maik Strosahl

Was having a conversation with a driver trainee who lost one family member and is losing another. The statement came up that really we have only one guarantee at birth: that our days will come to an end at some point.
    That led to a conversation on the causes of death, how a death certificate may state someone died of Covid, some blunt force trauma, or a heart attack, but really it is a series of events that brings us to our end.

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (75) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Tuesday,
May 1, 1923,
5:00 AM

The day dawned clear and sunny, although it had rained hard the night before. Normally Red would have slept well in the rain, but it had the God damn cows bellowing all night. Hell, they bellowed all night every night, and all day every day too, and it was beginnin’ to wear Red’s nerves thin.

“The Last Persimmon” –Wasn’t that a Shakespeare play?

By Paul Clark
(aka motomynd)

What sweetness thou bringst after autumn frost,

what bitterness during the warmth of youth!

Why is it such with you, persimmon,

and not that way at all with women?

Copyright © 2022 by Paul Clark

All Over the Place: Mumbo Jumbo Joe Wants to Be a Teacher

By Michael H. Brownstein

The picture book below was written to encourage young children to enjoy reading. I decided to use five- to seven-year-olds from the nearby Robert Taylor Public Housing Projects to illustrate the different verses. Because Chicago had an annual strike just about every year, when I began teaching at Farren next to the Robert Taylor Public Housing Projects (at the time, the largest public housing in the world), I established a not-for-profit, The RAMP (Reading and Math Program), so my students would not miss any school. After the strike ended, I decided to keep the program going as an academic after-school program, started writing grants, hired some local teenagers to help out, and discovered I had an aptitude for grant writing. The Geraldine Dodge Foundation paid me a thousand dollars for the manuscript and then sent me the entire press run.
    Ken Satterfield, a librarian at the Missouri River Regional Library, has produced a recording of his expert reading of the book:

Goines On: Magic bubbles

Click image for more vignettes
(That’s Sacré-Coeur Basilica in 2021,
out the Goineses‘ apartment window)

Walking along the crowded Rue Poteau toward Monoprix, Goines reflected on the way most Paris walkers and joggers and bikers and skateboarders navigated the city’s fast, busy streets. A biker comes from behind on sidewalks within centimeters of walkers, who might step to one side or the other at any moment, and along curbs beside cars and motorcycles and trucks and buses, which in Paris seem to go as fast as they possibly can without killing anyone or inviting a police intervention.

Favorite Quotes of Ken Marks

Martin    Stevens
Berra    Carlin    Rizzo
Rubin    Stranger
Bush    Fields    Gervais
Keillor    Socrates
Aristotle
Hanh    King    Shaw
Faulkner    Marple
Mandela
Cicero    Schiller
Shakespeare
Dawkins    Plato

Discovered on
The Scratching Post

By Moristotle

Ken Marks began scratching on The Scratching Post the year after he left the staff of Moristotle & Co. After we ran the opening of his latest scratching last week, I clicked on its “About Me” link.

    Ken says little there directly about himself, leaving it to the reader to infer things about him from his pastimes, languages, reading habits, and favorite movies, words, and quotes.

     A telling quote with regard to his saying little directly about himself is the one by Socrates. Ken has a strong mind, not a weak one; he discusses ideas, not people.

Fiction: Four Vats(a short story)

By Pat Hamilton

Billy said that his talk of huevos con chorizo yesterday compelled him to tell the story of Carlos’s abuelita and her four huge, tall pots.
    “When I was newly arrived in El Paso, I met Carlito in a Lit class at UTEP. When he found out I played guitar, he introduced me to two guys in his apartment building who played and sang, and so he brought us all together, and that night was so great, it enhanced the bond between Carlos and me, one result being that one evening, he took me to meet his grandmother at her house.

Highways and Byways: Broad Street Diamond, Griffith, Indiana

By Maik Strosahl

I saw a picture recently in an Abandoned Railroad forum. It was identified as a crossing in Griffith, Indiana, that was one of the busiest in the nation.

Fiction: A Killing on a Bridge (74) A historical fiction

Saint Sebastian River Bridge
[Click image to call up
all published instalments]

By Roger Owens

Wednesday,
October 19, 1921,
8:00 AM

Captain J. S. Blitch, Warden of Raiford State Prison, with barely a sip of his second cup of coffee past his lips, was presented by his head of security, George Morford, with a letter from prisoner John Ashley, to his father Joe Ashley, C/O Miller’s Landing, Gomez Grant, Stuart, Florida.