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Home country: Planet Earth
Member since: Mon Aug 9, 2004, 01:39 PM
Number of posts: 24,690
Home country: Planet Earth
Member since: Mon Aug 9, 2004, 01:39 PM
Number of posts: 24,690
You all may remember I got Honey from a local shelter back in January, after she was rescued by the side of a road in NM, almost starved to death and nursing 8 puppies. We think she might have been a res dog who probably got pregnant the first time she went into heat. She seems very young.
We had oodles of problems with her at first. She was incredibly hyper-vigilant during the night, hounded (pun intended) our cats mercilessly, stole food and went in the trash any second we turned our backs, was terrified to get in the car, and, when we started our veggie gardens, she dug through them trying to dig up the compost (to eat, presumably). It's taken her all this time to get the hang of being a pet. Best of all, she's actually relaxed enough to smile now! The day she first smiled - about 2 weeks ago - was a happy day at our casa!
So I wanted to share some photos of our happy, smiling, adjusting-nicely girl.
Here she is, our own little flower child:
Just digging the fine weather, lying out in her very own yard:
Smirking in her sleep, content on the couch:
*Edited to add: Holy crap, that's a lot of dog hair on my couch!
Posted by intheflow | Wed Jun 5, 2013, 11:49 AM (10 replies)
I'm not a religious person, but I have a leftist religious background and these two pieces have always embodied all that I felt about war, warmongers, and soldiers. May we live to one day celebrate peace on Memorial Day.
The War Prayer (1904)
By Mark Twain
It was a time of great and exalting excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and sputtering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spreads of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country and invoked the God of Battles, beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpouring of fervid eloquence which moved every listener.
It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast a doubt upon its righteousness straightway got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.
Sunday morning came – next day the battalions would leave for the front; the church was filled; the volunteers were there, their faces alight with material dreams-visions of a stern advance, the gathering momentum, the rushing charge, the flashing sabers, the flight of the foe, the tumult, the enveloping smoke, the fierce pursuit, the surrender! – then home from the war, bronzed heros, welcomed, adored, submerged in golden seas of glory! With the volunteers sat their dear ones, proud, happy, and envied by the neighbors and friends who had no sons and brothers to send forth to the field of honor, there to win for the flag or, failing, die the noblest of noble deaths. The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation – "God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest, Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!"
Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was that an ever – merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory.
An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there, waiting.
With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal,"Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"
The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside – which the startled minister did – and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said
"I come from the Throne – bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention. "He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd and grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import – that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of – except he pause and think.
"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two – one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of His Who hearth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this – keep it in mind. If you beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.
"You have heard your servant's prayer – the uttered part of it. I am commissioned by God to put into words the other part of it – that part which the pastor, and also you in your hearts, fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so! You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. The whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory – must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God the Father fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!
"O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle – be Thou near them! With them, in spirit, we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe. O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells; help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead; help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain; help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire; help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief; help us to turn them out roofless with their little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it – for our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes, blight their lives, protract their bitter pilgrimage, make heavy their steps, water their way with their tears, stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet! We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.
(After a pause)
"Ye have prayed it; if ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the Most High waits."
It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.
A Prayer Against War (1910)
By Walter Rauschenbusch
O Lord, since first the blood of Abel cried to thee from the ground that drank it, this earth of thine has been defiled with the blood of humanity shed by the hands of sisters and brothers, and the centuries sob with the ceaseless horror of war. Ever the pride of kings and the covetousness of the strong has driven peaceful nations to slaughter. Ever the songs of the past and the pomp of armies have been used to inflame the passions of the people.
Our spirit cries out to thee in revolt against it, and we know that our righteous anger is answered by thy holy wrath. Break thou the spell of the enchantments that make the nations drunk with the lust of battle and draw them on as willing tools of death. Grant us a quiet and steadfast mind when our own nation clamors for vengeance or aggression. Strengthen our sense of justice and our regard for the equal worth of other peoples and races. Grant to the rulers of nations faith in the possibilities of peace through justice, and grant to the common people a new and stern enthusiasm for the cause of peace.
Bless our soldiers and sailors for their swift obedience and their willingness to answer to the call of duty, but inspire them none the less with a hatred of war, and may they never for love of private glory or advancement provoke its coming. May our young men and women still rejoice to die for their country with the valor of their fathers and mothers, but teach our age nobler methods of matching our strength and more effective ways of giving our life for the flag.
O thou strong God of all the nations, draw all thy great family together with an increasing sense of our common blood and destiny, that peace may come on earth at last, and thy sun may shed its light rejoicing on a holy unity of all people. Amen.
Posted by intheflow | Mon May 27, 2013, 10:41 AM (2 replies)
A holiday in the city where the original Tea Party was held. It's not much of a speculative stretch to think the most extreme current tea party members imagines the tree of liberty needs watering on tax day. Of course that being said, why target the marathon and not, say, a federal office building? But whatever. A lunatic doesn't really need an excuse for their lunacy, it's us in the aftermath who feel the need to attach some meaning to the meaningless acts of madmen.
Posted by intheflow | Tue Apr 16, 2013, 01:06 AM (0 replies)
This is according to a Catholic version of the bible:
Mark 16: 9-11
Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene
9 Now after he rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, from whom he had cast out seven demons. 10 She went out and told those who had been with him, while they were mourning and weeping. 11 But when they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they would not believe it.
It's like they can't read their own book.
Posted by intheflow | Thu Apr 4, 2013, 12:11 AM (2 replies)
You really don't know what you're talking about if you think history is not alive in the present. If you truly believed that, you wouldn't have cited your family history or some of the events of your youth in the OP. History is alive in you and in us all; your OP proves you are living at least partly in the past.
Posted by intheflow | Sun Mar 31, 2013, 11:10 PM (0 replies)
Still, I'm glad to see him voluntarily both condemning his soul to hell and enshrining his historical legacy as one of the worst, most prejudiced judges to ever sit on the SCOTUS. Right up there with Justice Taney leading the way on Dredd Scott and Justice Brown on Plessy v. Ferguson, to be judged harshly for eternity.
Posted by intheflow | Wed Mar 27, 2013, 10:50 PM (0 replies)
the morning after the largest anti-war march in the country's history, and the local affiliates ran a total of 6 minutes coverage combined. They showed close-cropped shots of isolated people in costumes, not the swaths of chanting, angry citizens marching down Pennsylvania Ave. I was horrified at the non-coverage, though of course I wasn't surprised.
Posted by intheflow | Tue Mar 19, 2013, 11:40 PM (0 replies)
But I have some questions:
How come none of the people whose debt has been abolished have come forward? So far the only verification we have that this has happened is from Strike Debt, even though they say they've sent notes to the people whose debt they've abolished. Where are those people?
CNN reports, "The organization spent about $21,000 to purchase the debt, using money raised from supporters." Back in December, they claimed they were poised to retire $9,000,000 in medical debt having raised over $350,000. Where's the other ~$325K? Even accounting for operating expenses, why hasn't more debt been bought and abolished?
I hate to be so cynical about an organization that's trying to do good, but before I send money to anyone, I want to see some solid proof that they are run competently and have some kind of accountability. I've worked in non-profits my whole life and cannot believe these folks don't have people up their ass demanding to see their books.
Posted by intheflow | Sun Mar 17, 2013, 09:03 PM (1 replies)
The full quote is
“I myself have never been able to find out precisely what feminism is: I only know that people call me a feminist whenever I express sentiments that differentiate me from a doormat or a prostitute.”
― Rebecca West, Mr Chesterton in Hysterics: A Study in Prejudice, The Clarion, 14 November 1913
This quote has been truncated for at least the three decades since I first encountered it. I've often wondered why it was shortened. I like to imagine it didn't fit well on a t-shirt in the '70s so they edited it slightly. But the cynic in me thinks it was shortened because it was so outrageously OTT for the time in which she said it.
Posted by intheflow | Tue Mar 5, 2013, 12:08 PM (2 replies)
I think I'll try this next time. I'm making another white wine pork stew tonight, pieced together from a few recipes I found online. Basically, I browned up the stew meat and set it aside. Then took 2T butter and sauteed a small onion, two chopped celery stalks, and about a clove of chopped garlic, and set aside. Put in about a 1/2 cup of white wine, a cup of chicken broth, and a can of diced tomatoes, and scrapped off the brown bits. Then I mixed another 1/2 cup of chicken broth with about 2T of flour, added it to the liquid; added all the rest of the cooked foods plus a few small potatoes, two cut-up carrots and the last of the parsnips from last summer's garden. Sprinkled in some Herbs de Provence and added a bay leaf, brought it all to a boil; covered it and brought it down to a simmer. It's still cooking and smells divine! I'll simmer it for an hour and see what it tastes like, might go an hour and a half. But I'm hungry, so it might get short-changed.
Posted by intheflow | Mon Feb 18, 2013, 08:58 PM (1 replies)