an old writer and his words

  • CLIFDEN MORNING

    They were meanderers, gypsies of sorts, but never Tinkers, never an lucht siúil. They never travelled far, preferring the comforts of where they called home. They knew they wheren’t liked, weren’t really welcome here. They would be tolerated here perhaps, never fully accepted in good company. But they’d grown too numerous to ignore. They walked slowly across…

    Lou Faber

  • SNAKE EYES

    Einstein said, and I assume he believed, that God didn’t play dice with the universe. Hawking disagreed, said God was an inveterate gambler and worse still he would not only throw the dice but he is so sarcastic that he would gladly confuse us by throwing them where they can’t be seen. You have to…

    Lou Faber

  • TIME

    He stopped believing in time. It served no purpose for him, other than allowing others to chastise him for being late. He knew he operated under the laws of gravity, it was a burden he accepted, if begrudgingly. He understood his limitations, tested their margins, but allowed that he had finite power over them. But…

    Lou Faber

  • DOUBLE ESPRESSO

    Buddha walked slowly into the coffee house and ordered a large mochachino. He approached the sofa in the corner and folded himself neatly and precisely into and among its overstuffed cushions to the delight of a five year old pulling at his mother’s sweater as she struggles to finish her latte. “The body,” Buddha says…

    Lou Faber

  • RELATIVE(LY)

    Where I live we have hills. Mostly we have hillocks, but here they call the very high hills mountains so we have to call the hillocks hills. It is a question of relativity. Einstein understood relativity.   He was born near Feldberg which rose nearly 4900 feet up. He lived in New Jersey where you could…

    Lou Faber