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THE REST OF THE STORY
It should be the storiesbehind the stories that get told.We have to blame the songwritersI suppose, telling only the partof the story they choose, leaving usto sit and wonder, no answers, forthcoming.We all know what happened to Billie Joeand the damned Talahatchee Bridge, but howdid Becky Thompson snare the brotherand for that matter, why Tupelo?And…
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SCRIVEN
“You know,” she said with a smile, “that you are going straight to the infernal regions when this is over and done with, no doubt.” “I can’t imagine,” he replied, “that He who is all knowing and all powerful would ever let that happen to me.” “Be serious,” she added, “you know that the nether…
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KAFKA
June 13, 1896, Prague a warm day, old stone schul you stood before the minyon wearing the skullcap repeating ancient words that lay on paper, rehearsed sounding false on a tongue swollen in anxiety. Your tallit, white woven with blue threads hung at your knees fringe fingered, rolled and unrolled, twisted until touched to skin…
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HOLY GRAMMAR
The Rabbi smiled and said God writes history only in the future perfect tense. First published in European Judaism (UK) Vol. 33, No.1 (2000) For Something Different, a new bird photo each day, visit my other blog: Bird-of-the-day.com
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IN SEARCH
En route to Buddhism, I must admit I stopped at numerous philosophical way-stations, none quite as equipped as I would desire and so I moved on. Buddhism was my solution, no demands other than I be present, knowing I had no real choice but to do so, all in the recognition of that fact. I…
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NEWS
The most interesting thing about visiting websites from foreign news services is that so many offer content in English and how deaths that occur locally seem to invoke the same sadness, horror, belated honor, and that local disasters take precedence over our own disasters not merely because it happened there and not here, but because…
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Jack, for Heaven’s Sake
The truly pious will never get to heaven for they don’t know how to sing or dance. Kerouac roams freely like a rogue elephant unable to get a good buzz on but not for want of trying. He thought it would be Edenic, a garden somewhere between Babylon hanging and the lobby of the Royal…
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HAVING WRITTEN
I suppose I ought to be glad that no playwright has ever written about me, for that is a fame that always seems to end badly, unless it is a comedy, and that, too, is dangerous ground, for such plays tread heavily for a laugh. Consider Shakespeare, and ask yourself if yo would want to…

