|25 Jan 2004 @ 18:31|
Rapa Nui – Easter Island in the South Pacific
is on almost exactly the opposite side of the globe
from the sites in present day Pakistan of
the ancient cities Harappa and Mohenjo Daro.
Easter Island is at 27.07 S and 109.22 W.
Mohenjo Daro is near present day Khairpur at 27.32 N and 68.46 E
Harappa is near present day Kamalia at 30.44 N and 72.39 E More >
|25 Jan 2004 @ 18:29|
Where have we come from?
Where are we going?
How far back do we wish to inquire?
How far forward would we like to imagine?
When we stepped out of the trees onto the savannah?
When we noticed the stars turning in circles over our heads?
When we discovered the voicing of words and sentences with one another?
We know that we now stand on the threshold of global population adjustments the likes of which we can only begin to fathom. The machinery of selfishness, money and war is effecting critical side-effects on environmental chemistry and biology. One can imagine that the members of the human community who are furthest removed from urban configurations would have a better survival quotient, although ultimately, who becomes left may just as well be a function of relative pure chance. Various timelines of astronomical, economic, climatological, demographic, and half-life phenomena are presented to the emerging generation to consider during the steps we will be taking into tomorrow. There is a legacy to carry which reaches far back into our ancestral homes. The answer is to the question of what it means to be human? What are we?
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“The religion of personal salvation is eclipsed by a faith whose question and answer are matters of order in the universe. Religion of that kind can crack your mind open the way lightning splits a pine, leaving the wind to howl through the scorched divide.”
Kingsolver, Barbara. (1995) Creation Stories, (in) High Tide in Tucson, Essays from Now or Never. New York: Harper Collins More >
|31 Dec 2003 @ 19:03|
Good Wishes for the New Year 2004
and Blessings for NCN,
From the spirit of Saraswati.
“She was also called Smirtishakti (the power of memory), Jnanashakti (the power of knowledge), Kalpanashakti (the power of forming ideas) and so on. Saraswati is thus directly linked to the peculiar attribute of conscious thought that has humans classified as Homo sapiens, the thinking animal that knows it thinks. It is therefore rather reassuring to think that as we enter the Knowledge Age, there is a Goddess of Wisdom still out there waiting for us to receive her infinite gifts.” More >
|28 Dec 2003 @ 22:50|
The planet turns through its Saros,
And the eclipse of the sun returns
to not exactly but near enough to
where it was fifty-four years before.
From a place near the center of the great continent of Africa-Eurasia,
to a third of a way around the globe
eighteen years later,
to a place another third of the way around the globe
another eighteen years later,
to another place in north Africa
near its previous visit,
eighteen years later.
.//., \’.-.;[\-__/.//-’/.\ More >
|20 Dec 2003 @ 22:33|
Across the wide Pacific,
With the ancient seafarer.
and the music of Pachelbel,
Canon in D major.
Through our Solstice.
_-_-_-_-_-_-* More >
|6 Dec 2003 @ 18:51|
Excerpts from Small Wonder, an essay by Barbara Kingsolver,
from her book of essays, Small Wonder. (2002) Harper Collins. NY.
I believe the things we dread most can sometimes save us. I am losing faith in such a simple thing as despising an enemy with unequivocal righteousness.
A mirror held up to every moral superiority will show its precise image: The terrorist loves his truth as hard as I love mine; he has a mother who looks on her child with the same fierce pride I feel when I look at my own. Someone, somewhere, must wonder how I could love the boys who dropped the bombs that killed the humanitarian-aid workers in Kabul. We are all beasts in this kingdom, we have killed and been killed, and some new time has come to us in which we are called out to find another way to divide the world. Good and evil cannot be all there is.
. . . . . . More >
|6 Dec 2003 @ 16:13|
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Robert Frost More >
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