My Prayer

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I reckon being separated from people in life helps to prepare us for their absence in death. And when they die, their lives take on a new shape and significance. Where a life has been full and complete, we can only celebrate it.  We express its value in the currency of contribution, influence, relationship. Where there has been pain and suffering, we view death as a release. Quality of life is valued over mere existence.

And wherever death is unexpected or premature, we value the human potential that has been lost. So often the prematurely bereaved become campaigners and even reformers, honouring the memory of their loved ones by seeking to save others from the same misfortune. Their lives … and deaths, we hear time and again, will not have been in vain.

Avoidable death is a constant spur to human progress. It challenges politics, economics, ethics – to my sceptical ear, diminutives with a sonic similarity to ‘antics’ and ‘frolics’ – by reminding us that within each word there beats a moral heart … respectively liberty, equality, fraternity. And no other human right outguns the right to life.

But whatever the circumstances, death can be the moment that life burns brightest. With our last breath we pass into the collective consciousness, an apotheosis far superior to any egoistic notion of individual transcendence. This is poignantly described in the second verse of Wilfred Owen’s  Anthem For Doomed Youth (quoted below) where the dead can be said to pass into folk memory. Funeral elegies and fond memories held in common can bring us back to life where we really belong, in the hearts and minds of others.

What greater incentive could we have to slip the reins of ego and gallop free of death’s burdensome saddle? What greater reward for a good life could we hope for than to be recalled with a grateful smile? What else could have driven great artists through the present pain of creation but the knowledge that they might live on in their masterpieces?

And my prayer?

Let not humankind curse me for a destroyer but praise me for a creator.

 

“I am human, and nothing of that which is human is alien to me.”   –  Terence

 

‘Days’

What are days for? Days are where we live. They come, they wake us time and time over. They are to be happy in: where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question brings the priest and the doctor in their long coats running over the fields.

Philip Larkin

 

What candles may be held to speed them all?
      Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
      The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Wilfred Owen

 

Like … duh!

A question from an aged technophobe to his followers … where my blog title appears on your ‘Manage Followed Sites’ list, can you turn on/off the ‘Emails for New Posts/Comments’ functions? If not, I’d be very grateful if someone could tell me how to enable this. Cheers!

Senior man with a computer problem

Rolling News … Update … Silly Season Shocker … Problem Solved … Turns Out, There Was No Problem … Silly Old Fool Wipes Egg From Face … For Next Major Scoop, Watch This Empty Space!

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Tribes Without Passports, People without States

Click on the link below for a stimulating post from a sharp and thought-provoking WordPress blog. I love any attempt to come up with new thinking and this endeavours to break up the consensual log-jam. Its idealism reminds me of my first ever post, which I present below as a naïve introduction.

My voyage of exploration begins. I want to recapture the spirit of childhood, when we would set out from home with the deliberate aim of getting hopelessly lost. No point in going over old ground, after all.

Source: Tribes Without Passports, People without States

A Pat on the Back

My blog is a few months old and I have just received a nomination for The Blogger Recognition Award. I would like to thank T. Wayne of A Joyful Process for this. Click on the blog title in the previous sentence to view his many thoughtful, varied and readable posts.

The rules for this award are very specific:

1. Select 15 other blogs you want to give the award to

2. You cannot nominate yourself or the person who has nominated you.

3. Write a post to show your award.

4. Give a brief story of how your blog started.

5. Give a piece of advice or two to new bloggers.

6. Thank whoever nominated you and provide a link to their blog.

7. Attach the award badge to the post (right click and save, then upload.)

8. Comment on each blog and let them know you have nominated them.

9. Provide a link  to the original post on Edge of Night 

For #9, click the name above. For the rest, here goes …

I started my blog because I was looking for something a little deeper than Facebook. Don’t get me wrong, I love splashing about in the shallow end but I like to get out of my depth sometimes. How else will I know if I can swim?

I try to be adventurous and not worry too much about my image or ‘niche-appeal’. To be fair, a narrow focus may suit some bloggers but I prefer to be unconstrained – at least until I discover an authentic writing voice.

I view blogging as a global writers’ collective, an inspiring stage in humanity’s lurch towards cultural evolution. I often comment on other posts, partly as a way of building my own readership but also because blogging is a two-way thing – a dialogue between like minds.

My own nominations seem to share these ideals and values. I search for satire, reflection, laughter, passion, insight, sharing – here are a few of the blogs where I find them .  I’m following 128 sites and many of them are no less rewarding than these, so please accept my apology if yours isn’t here:

garfieldhug.wordpress.com

problemswithinfinity.com

opherworld.wordpress.com

thetroublesometraveller.com

storytimewithjohn.com

publikworks.wordpress.com

nebusresearch.wordpress.com

eddiestarblog.wordpress.com

stevehigginslive.com

thenicessist.com

bensbitterblog.com

sillyoldsod.com

stephellaneous.wordpress.com

echoesfromthepath.com

entertishworld.com

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Please let me know if I’ve got anything wrong. A post like this stretches the cyberskills of an old codger like me!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night on a Bare Mountain

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There comes a point in every life online

When laughter dies. We sense the biting storm

That others feel beyond our virtual home.

The dispossessed cry O for such a voice

But we fall silent, waiting for their word.

The question, my friend, is trembling on their lips –

Our answer still blowing in the wind.

 

(with apologies to Bob Dylan and the multitudes even he failed)

Dave Kingsbury

 

100 word story challenge

Hello?

Is this Mr Shoehorn?

Yes.

I’m Asphodel from Fifteen Minutes. You may have heard of us.

You make people famous.

Our computer has selected your name. Our image consultants are now available. Our broadcasting studio is ready to roll.

That lot won’t come cheap.

It won’t cost you a penny. We take half your earnings when you become famous.

What if, for all your expertise, I turn out to be a flop?

Many of our clients are famous for being flops. People adore pointless celebrity. It gives them hope.

Win-win, then?

It’s all good, yeah, all good … you in?

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Subversion, 60’s Style …

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What chance did we stand? Comic strips like this and the Bash Street Kids – see the previous post for my favourite adventure – introduced us Brit baby-boomers to surreal satire of conventional thinking. In the States it was Mad Magazine … were we the world’s luckiest ever generation, I wonder?

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Share the fun, kids, it’s still being published! And here’s one for Opher, whose blog opherworld.wordpress.com I can thoroughly recommend … some more artwork to die for!

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