Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Wheel Turns On

The state of the world right now is enough to make anyone stop to reflect on history and religion. Regardless of your religious, ethnic, or even political views the world around us is spinning. Riots in Egypt, War in Iraq, Afghanistan, Earthquakes, mudslides, floods, Volcanoes, the world is either on fire or under ice. It is befitting then, we pause to look ahead as we gather the pieces and leave the ruins behind. The Wheel turns on. We look forward to spring. The renewal of life to nature, as flowers begin to peak through the icy bleakness of winter and hope returns. How are you hastening in the change? Here are a few ways the rest of the world is. 

Groundhog Day is a holiday celebrated on February 2 in the United States and Canada. According to folklore, if it is cloudy when a groundhog emerges from its burrow on this day, it will leave the burrow, signifying that winter will soon end. If on the other hand, it is sunny, the groundhog will supposedly "see its shadow" and retreat back into its burrow, and winter will continue for six more weeks.[1]
Modern customs of the holiday involve celebrations where early morning festivals are held to watch the groundhog emerging from its burrow. In southeastern Pennsylvania, Groundhog Lodges (Grundsow Lodges) celebrate the holiday with fersommlinge,[2] social events in which food is served, speeches are made, and one or more g'spiel (plays or skits) are performed for entertainment. The Pennsylvania German dialect is the only language spoken at the event, and those who speak English pay a penalty, usually in the form of a nickel, dime or quarter, per word spoken, put into a bowl in the center of the table.[3]
The largest Groundhog Day celebration is held in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. Groundhog Day, already a widely recognized and popular tradition[4], received worldwide attention as a result of the 1993 film of the same name, Groundhog Day, which was set in Punxsutawney and featured Punxsutawney Phil.[5]


Spring is Coming!:
Imbolc is a holiday with a variety of names, depending on which culture and location you’re looking at. In the Irish Gaelic, it’s called Oimelc, which translates to “ewe’s milk.” It’s a precursor to the end of winter when the ewes are nursing their newly born lambs. Spring and the planting season are right around the corner.
Depending on your particular tradition, there are many different ways you can celebrate Imbolc. Some people focus on the Celtic goddess Brighid, in her many aspects as a deity of fire and fertility. Others aim their rituals more towards the cycles of the season, and agricultural markers.

St.Brigid's Feast Day

It is said St. Brigid comes to visit on her Feast Day, blessing people and livestock, bringing her white, red-eared cow with her. To welcome her, families leave an oaten cake and butter on the windowsill -- and corn for her cow.

Families also hang a ribbon or handkerchief out on trees or clotheslines, believing that if the Saint touched it it would have curative powers. These ribbons or handkerchiefs are called "St. Brigid's Mantle."
Because of St. Brigid's association with fire, the
building of bonfires would be fitting, too, if you live in a temperate zone. Fire and light are the perfect segue into Candlemas tomorrow, too, a day known as a "Feast of Light."

And, yes, food is involved in the celebration of St. Brigid's life. Colcannon, Boxty Cakes, and St. Brigid's Oatcakes for the children are the thing:

Candlemas is a Christian holiday celebrated annually on February 2. It celebrates three occasions according to Christian belief: the presentation of the child Jesus; Jesus’ first entry into the temple; and it celebrates the Virgin Mary’s purification (mainly in Catholic churches).
Many Christians consider Jesus as the “light of the world” so it is fitting that candles are blessed on this day and that a candle-lit procession precedes the mass. It is traditional to eat crepes on Candlemas in some parts of Europe, such as France. Each family member prepares and cooks a crepe while holding a coin in hand. This is believed to assure wealth and happiness until the next Candlemas celebration.
Candlemas is also known as Candelaria in Spanish speaking countries. Whoever finds baby figures hidden inside the Rosca de Reyes (Kings Cake) on Epiphany on January 6 is obliged to bring food to a gathering held on February 2. Many Orthodox Christians celebrate this event by bringing beeswax candles to their local church and requesting for these candles to be blessed to be used in the church or at home. Some Christians observe the practice of leaving Christmas decorations up until Candlemas.

(Information above taken directly from noted sites:not original content)

Regardless of how you clebrate or even if you do, smile, the sun is coming back, the flowers will bloom and the birds will sing. Which reminds me,when is my next getaway? Cabin fever has defenitely set in !Off to plan an adventure,until next time,Thank you for stopping by.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sensing, Intuition or Collective Consciousness.

 On presenting this question to a dear friend they retorted with an offer to take me for a mental evaluation. Regardless, unusual is me, and so the quandary continues. The phrase never discount a woman’s intuition is a staple for unexplained occurrences.  You know the feeling, when a coworker suddenly stops what they are doing reaches for their phone and it begins ringing before thy dial. Is this sensing, intuition, coincidence?  Or is there a greater current that runs beneath all things known? Is there, in essence, a quantum collective consciousness that flows through all things?

Essentially, as of now, it is determined that intuition is a fluke by the masses. However on pondering the workings of the nervous system, triggered by a series of chemically induced electrical currents collective consciousness comes into play. This is simply food for thought by no means tested (as of yet), simply a curiosity in the mind of one who wonders more than knows. What if intuition is simply a time at which someone becomes more sensitive to the electrical impulse of a stream of consciousness that flows through all living things?  Is it coincidence, the activation of a forgotten sense, or something larger? Below are some web definitions of each, take a look and tell me what you think.

  • 1 a faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus; one of the faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.
■ (one's senses) one's sanity: she seems to have taken leave of her senses.
  • 2 an awareness of something or feeling that something is the case.
  • 3 a sane and realistic attitude to situations and problems.
■ a reasonable or comprehensible rationale.
  • 4 a way in which an expression or situation can be interpreted; a meaning.
  • 5 chiefly Mathematics & Physics the property distinguishing two opposite but otherwise identical things, e.g. motion in opposite directions.
  • 6 [as modifier] Genetics relating to or denoting a coding sequence of nucleotides, complementary to an antisense sequence.

Father Maréchal, in Studies in the Psychology of the Mystics, defines the intuitive perception in these terms:
"Intuition - defined in a quite general manner - is the direct assimilation of a knowing faculty with its object. All knowledge is in some sort an assimilation; intuition is an immediate 'information,' without an objectively interposed intermediary; it is the only act by which the knowing faculty models itself, not on an abstract likeness of the object, but on the object itself; it is, if you will, the strict coincidence, the common line of contact of the knowing subject and the object."
Maréchal, Joseph, S. J., Studies in the Psychology of the Mystics, page 98.
One of the most notable and suggestive books on the subject of the intuition, and one which gears in amazingly with both the eastern and western positions, is entitled Instinct and Intuition, by Dr. Dibblee [163] of Oriel College, Oxford. In it, he gives us several interesting definitions of the intuition. He remarks that "as sensation is to feeling, so intuition acts to thought, in presenting it with material,"
Dibblee, George Binney, Instinct and Intuition, page 85.

Collective Consciousness

collective consciousness The English translation of Emile Durkheim's term conscience collective, which he defined in The Division of Labor in Society (1893) as “the set of beliefs and sentiments common to the average members of a single society.” In French, however, the word conscience refers to both “consciousness” and to “conscience”; thus the conscience collective relates to both the cognitive and moral dimensions of experience. Durkheim called specific instances or aspects of the collective

(material in boxes are directly from referenced websites follow links for further)

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Pages to Pictures

Today's blog was going to be a rather touching piece about two football rivals turned friends via twitter. After watching the game I don't feel up to talking about football anymore. My team lost, if you want to see it you can check it out  at AOL news . Carrying on, we are going to discuss instead, what is on you lap, or your screen. It has always been rather fascinating for me to read an amazing book, then watch the movie and be utterly disappointed. Screen writing is definitely an art in itself.

In my humble opinion, with the advancement of special effects directors have turned away fro the dialect towards the visual. Don't get me wrong the movies are breathtaking, but they seem to lack the lasting emotional effects of the books. For example, (cringe), how many of you actually read the Twilight series before you saw the movies? The books are bestsellers, and of course the movies box office hits, but honestly do you feel the movies impacted you in the same way the books did?

Reading the series for me was a three day event, I had to see what happened next. Page after page, captivating. Yet in the theatre, staring at the screen, while the soundtrack was mesmerizing, the actors had chemistry, and the effects well planned, it felt dry. As if the book had been gutted of the magic that had been its binding.

So what movies got it right? A few that held paper for me are:

Gone With The Wind 1936 Novel 1939 Film no effects, few locale changes, classic acting with a timeless dialect.

The Shinning 1977 novel 1980 movie staring Nicolson-the novel was completely terrifying ,actually slept with a flashlight, the movie nightmares for a week: definitely held up.

The Godfather : enough said on this one. Classic definitely in either form.

Black Beauty: One of the first books I ever read it was the first movie I can remember going to the theatre to see. When the beautiful horse stepped across the screen all the magic of the book played in my mind.

What about you? Do you agree with my reviews or do you have better ones? Come on talk back....
Well then take your mind over to this site and see if you can spot the extra in these scenes that make the frames classic go on now.....Oh but come back soon:) Still here? Well if you insist on hanging out with me check out my website be sure to poke the penguin alot, he explodes, it's fun.Alright now really, go on....

Thursday, January 20, 2011

Lost One and the Forgotten

To be lost, presumably, one must at some point, have been found.
 Yet there are those who live amongst the shadows, deep with in the streets that glisten of paved gold, the ones whom time has cast aside long before their prime.

Age knows none,their hearts are frozen still, yet breath seeps between their lips, the wind their only will. The Chosen rarely see them, sparing sideways glances upon brusquely passing by. A chill of  unknown crawls up the rushers spine when confronted with the distant look in the Forgotten's eyes.

Who is it then that chooses? The great ant farmer in the sky? The master of all puppeteers who will live,who will die. Who's heart will beat and whose yet to lie still, a walking shadow amongst his lambs an eternity to dwell.
As an old star falls from the sky ; into darkness another life has gone by.Few will remember, seldom, one will cry.

Here then enter into the realm of the lost, a little girl with eyes of blue, soon she will be forgot. The shell that remains like a phoenix from the flames will rise again anew. The once bright eyes forever to remain a muted version of their previous fame. To the Chosen who walk quickly by, stop for a moment to speak to those dull eyes. Behind each battered form a story longs to be told, of a life forced to live amongst the shadows of the cold.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

New pages

Hello again all! How has life been since my last rambling to you? Inside the Green Man, we are working on polishing and producing what we hope will be a book that will live forever through you. As the imminent release date approaches my insides have begun to turn with worry. To keep my every racing mind at bay, I have decided to create. As I unveil this creature that will crawl amongst the web and captivate the minds of the innocent lost, keep in mind the disclaimer, you never know what you will find on this blog. Without further a due I give you: ASK A CELEBRITY, and TWISTED SHORTS. Please feel free to ramble back at me.

Ask A Celebrity, just that what ever you have had on your mind for whoever. Ask Abe Lincoln why he couldn't tell a lie.Ask James Dean what his favorite movie roll was. Feel free to answer someone's question, be creative and have fun.

Twisted Shorts- A page dedicated to my poetic side.

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Peanut Gallery

After viewing the Golden Globe awards this evening a bit of quandary is rattling in my brain. It is quite interesting that in life there always appears more questions then answers. I suppose if there were no more questions there would be no more growth. It is fascinating for me to watch people. Their mannerisms, their gestures, even the influx of their speech ,give subtle hints to the inner workings of their minds.

As with tonight’s viewing. To some extent,, I must admit I am like the majority in finding the rich and famous captivating. However, I worry that it is not for the same reasons. I do not long for fame. Honestly, the multiplicity of my persona is to keep each aspect of being separate for me, thus preventing constant questioning in overlapping areas of life. Fame would be like torture,I am camera shy and tend to blend well on most occasions. There are times when I choose to shine, but very rarely. With any regard, it seems the average person looks on the actors and actresses with envy and longing. Watching each of them as they accepted their awards and even the ones who received nothing was a bit more of a social science experiment for me. The classic, sweet , good-hearted people who looked on from their seats with honest respect for their peers. Young, unsure, highly self conscious new comers who were simply trying to dodge the spotlight. Then the socialites who felt overly entitled and apparently above the rest of the nominees who protruded their noses in the air as the stuck their arses in front of the camera. 

Entrancing is the high life of fame, all too quickly the fresh stars forget their light will most likely dwindle in the Hollywood sky. The truly grounded are the ones we fall in love with. The ones who move with both grace and humility. Who are able to make eye contact with door man instead of brushing past as if they were a sign post. Still I wonder, what is really going through their minds as they stand in the spotlight? While I do not wish to be them, I still wonder its like to be.
Hollywood the best social experiment in history, but it is so hard not to love.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

WIP /Promises and Plagues/excerpt

Lucid waking upon the extraction of the life from my body. The sound of my final heart beat ringing through my ears drowned out only by the steady drip of the blood pooling around my corpse. So this is death. Odd it is not so much different then I had imagined. No slide show before my eyes no bright white light, just the steady sound of heart pumping out the last of my body's fuel.

A steady sound, it will end just as it began. Tick tick tap, tick tick tap. Of all the sounds in memory, it was as non threatening as the sound of a kitten. Tick tick tap the rhythm had almost lulled me to sleep when curiosity from its proximity change lured me to seek out its source. Scanning the candle lit interior of my flat nothing seemed out of place. Tick tick tap the sound became a reverberating echo encasing my mind like the persistence of a leaky faucet.My natural sense of security within the confines of my occasional home arrested the need for worry, in retrospect fear should have been a welcome walking companion. With eyes gradually adjusting to the faint light the the sound moved towards me as I to it. Welcoming the intrusion of an audience.
Looking back the moment that could have changed it all seems so clear. It is always like that isn't it? Movies, books, life, Oh so maybe this is the still shot of my life.As fate would have it, no creepy feelings or sense of impending doom over came me as I sauntered towards the cause of  my undoing.Tick tick tap.Rounding the corner in the narrow hallway to the great room that has become my final resting place the source showed its self.

Out side of the bay window overlooking the channel that fills my sometimes home with the sweet smell of salt water sat a huge black bird. It appeared to have a broken wing hobbling back and forth against the glass for balance. With each pass of its wing the tick tick, and then its beak the tap. My heart actually leapt in sympathy for the injured creature. Cole black eyes peered at up,  pleading for rescue.

Hastening to the window my fingers fumbled to release the aged latches. Upon freeing them from their locked state, after much turmoil and prying, I released the window slide. This singular motion was intended to open the window enabling the planned rescue of an injured bird. It happened as a lack of questioning on my part. Never did it occur to me to question how an injured bird managed to become stranded seven stories high.
As the window slung wide the bird dissipated from vision, in its place loomed a black so deep there is no comparison.Not a person or a thing, but a complete void of everything, without even the slightest ray of light to afford distinction.Stumbling backwards to escape the unknown I failed to acknowledge my surroundings. My heart became a sonic boom in my head as it attempted to jump to safety outside of my skin. Fear fueling an awkward escape my feet became entangled in the large Persian rug spread across the mahogany floor I prided.

In decent my eyes fixed upon the void that moved towards me with the speed of the wind. As my head slammed hard into the coffee table the mass closed in. The blood began immediately eviscerating from the side of my head and throat.  My body became limp as internally I tried to will it to flee. To no avail would be my protesting as the whirlwind of void bore down upon my flesh. No longer a void, thousands of tiny red spiders overtook my flesh. Bite after bite they ripped away at the protective covering of my being. As quickly as they arrived they scatter. No longer as a mass, but as a million tiny armies though each crack and hole in the room.

Here I lay.The inner most contents of my body splayed like raw meat for the unlucky who will ultimately follow the stench to my resting place. The sound again reverberates past the dimming of my consciousness tick tick tap. The bird. How could it still be alive? With the last of my vision fading I turn my eyes to the place it all began. On the window sill a black bird with its wing stretched in death flaps gently in wind. Tethered to its leg the entrails of  a previous victim. So odd is it, as the darkness consumes me, the questions continue, as does the slow steady sound. Tick tick tap.

Friday, January 14, 2011

My Super Man

~Now Playing: Kryptonite-3 Doors Down~

Who is your hero? Looking back on the '80's in my last post reminded me of Super Man. Not the movie, my brother, the man. Okay he's not exactly impermeable but he is still the closest I have ever seen. Which of course leads me to wonder who was your Super Man growing up? 

That person who would sweep in just as the curtains began to fall around your throat and save you from death's grasp. I suppose I should divulge a bit to clarify my meaning. Born the middle of five, I was the first girl after two brothers, my sisters came later. In a way it explains a lot about my personality. The youngest of my natural father's kids, the oldest girl, and smack dab in the middle of everyone, yep I'm everything. In a way I wonder if the stars were preparing me for a life full of being everything, but that is for a different blog.

My earliest childhood memories are of looking up to my brothers.They were only a year apart in age but there is seven years between me and my oldest brother so, needless to say, they were my babysitters. To phrase it more correctly they allowed me to tag along and attempted to return home with me alive at the end of each day.When your small the world feels so big. Looking up at them I could have sworn their heads actually touched the sky, and their feet, which happened to be much closer to my vantage point, looked like the Jolly Green Giants. No they really are not freakishly large, but back then I thought for sure they were over ten feet tall.
The youngest of my two brothers, being the youngest, always seemed to be the one to get stuck keeping me alive the most. It is kind of funny, looking back over the last thirty-ish (nope not telling, but it is a whole number)years of life, he never really stopped.

We are both grown and live on separate sides of the country, but even now he is patiently waiting for me to do a head dive off of the ten speed's handle bars so he can scoop me up and rush me to safety.  That is the best kind of hero possible in my opinion. The one that is willing to wait, watch, let you fall a little, and then help you back on your feet.

For anyone who knows me in my other life, they know I have a lot of scars, usually well hid, but present none the less. Each well earned scar has a super man behind it. From the first one when my rocking horse bucked me and sent me to the ER for my first set of stitches, to the ones on the inside that only he understands. 
This blog I dedicate to my Super Man, my big brother Eric, the the first E.T., the one who taught me how to wire speakers so my heart would jump, rebuild and paint cars, climb a tree, catch earthworms, smile when I felt like dying, rescued me when the world forgot, pushed me to graduate when I felt like quiting, listened even though I wouldn't stop talking. 
You are my brother by birth, my hero by choice.

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Whats worse to be completely clueless or to pretend you are?

Monday, January 10, 2011

Memory Lane

This Blog post has been inspired by the movie Easy A and fellow tweep @stupidgirl45. Spending the days in confines of home due to physical weakness (honestly almost felt like a vacation), I was able to sit still for th first time in a long time. After a stream of random movies I reached Easy A. If you haven't seen Easy A yet watch it, I highly recommend it. So this blod post I dedicate to the flood of memories that made me smile through each scene. Here's to the 80's the big hair bands, the guitarists that looked like Demi-Gods,the evolution of break dancing, and all the movies that still hold a place in my heart of hearts.

My Top Ten (if I can stop there) List Of 1980's best movies

  1.)The Breakfast Club: odd, I know, the entire movie taking place in one room, but the cast and story line were Epic. I still like the sound track even.

2.) Poltergiest: The first movie to ever keep me awake at night. I ran from the t.v for months whenever the signal would fade to that horrible static. And a clown doll forget it, still not getting anywhere near one of those things.

3.) The Princess Bride: As You Wish, one of the best movie lines ever written. Of course I happened to have a huge crush on 'Wesley' think it was something about the way he smiled in the face of danger, oh and the pants:)

4.) The Shining with Jack Nicholson , ultimate psychological thriller from the mind of the master. One of the few movie adaptations that has ever held a candle to the actual book.

5.)Driving Miss Daisy, still watch this movie. It is a timeless classic that always makes me smile far beyond the surface of the script the actors transformed this movie into an eternal favorite for me.

6.) Indiana Jones : adventure, mystery, danger ,and of course an incredibly hot lead actor. I don't think I will ever out grown Indie.Another amazing soundtrack too.

7.) Top Gun,: Well pretty much anything with Tom Cruise in it., but this one is still a favorite. Speed, hot guys, fast planes , and pushing the limits. Oh and a killer sound track ~Goose!!!~ goodness gracious great balls of fire

8.)Mask: with Cher, not one you hear about much anymore a cinematic classic to me.It was the first time I can remember learning to look past the flesh into the soul of a person. An endearing screenplay with superb acting that has always stayed with me.

9.)Big: Yeah giant keyboard enough said :)

10.) The Outsider: Pony Boy and Soda Pop, classic. Like a modern day West side story, only different. Not much for commentary I guess. This was one of the first movies I was able to see the set location of, will always be a favorite.

Go figure I did stop at ten, and they are in no specific order. This list could honestly go on and on. I mean look at what is missing, Porky's, Caddy Shack, Karate Kid, ET, Goonies, Lost Boys (favorite). Not sure if all those were in the 80's. I didn't even begin to go into the music. Well, no point in staying in the past for too long. Think I'm going to pop in another movie and put my feet back up. If you read this let me know what you think. Do you remember the 80's? What were your favorites? If you Twitter check out @stupidgirl45 's blog. She has some movie picks over that way too. As always thank you for taking the time to walk through my mind.~R.M.~

Sunday, January 9, 2011

To Blame or Not to Blame

The United States of America have become increasingly less united and far closer to an anarchist state as of late. The Government seems to be losing its grip on reality. The heated topic as of now is health care. To this I must ask why exactly are people who have no experience in the medical field determining exactly what treatments should be covered and what should not?

        Let us start with the basics. We have government officials making six figure salaries, being attended to by personal physicians, paid for by the people, stating the people need to pay more. Really? Did we vote for that?  Exactly what are they cutting?

                Well, if you work in the medical field the inertia has been in place and gradually snowing balling into an avalanche for quiet some time. With the Medicare and Medicaid cuts insurance companies slyly followed suit, limiting covered procedures to mirror Medicare. The first impact was noted on our elderly, and by elderly I mean our greats. The people who toiled across this land to develop the conveniences we now enjoy. As well as our veterans who fought in WW2  and beyond to defend our land , the people who paved the way for the life that we live.

             Why? Why do veterans die before the are able to receive standard treatment for curable diseases because the VA has a two month waiting list? Why do people who have worked every day of their lives until their bodies could no longer toil, have to decide between buying medicine and buying food because their medicare plan will only cover a tenth of what is needed?

                   We as Americans should be the last to have our pockets picked. The government, of course, places the blame on the medical community. If the doctors didn't order tests, if the machines didn't cost so much, if the pharmaceutical companies didn't charge so much, justifying it with people should all heal in the same amount of time. These statements are not only wrong but dangerous.
               Doctors are by far more cost concerned than the government. They take patients unsure if they will actually be reimburrsed by Medicare and Medicaid. Their practices have to eat the costs of denials by pencil pushers who only have to look at the numbers and never at the faces. They work long hours to do what they swore to do, harm none.Yet the government has taken no such vow. Instead they cut the care that is needed to save lives with rationalization that if they die they won't have to support them any more.

                To this I ask what is the cost? What if it was their hero? Not everyone is blessed with family to carry them through the golden years and illness. So as the pencil pushers survey their lists of diseases and costs  and reject as ordered anything above a set number, people die. Doctors and nurses work short staffed, horrible hours, sacrifcing their own lives while trying to carry far more wieght than humanly possible to begin with, only to have to search for alternative therapies and secondary options when superior treatment is available.

                 We are not a third world country!!!!We have toiled and sacrificed and searched to find the ability to cure the most complex of conditions, and yet our children die. Our veterans suffer, and our politicians smile. So let us all quite blaming this party or that party and look at the system. In all honesty it is broken and if it is not fixed soon we may well become a third world country. 

           If you are a servant of the country then it should be as such, you serve us! If you cannot live off minimum wage and medicaid how should we? Give up your six figures, give up your medical perks, vacation houses, and finger pointing. Spend a day with a country doctor and look in the eye each person you deny medical payments to. Live off $500 a month social security like our disabled heroes. Show us what we are doing wrong. If you can live like that then you can raise our taxes and cut our health care. Until then put your fingers down you childish buffoons, for each time you point one four point back to you. That is all I have to say about that, (for Now).

Saturday, January 8, 2011

State Of the World

History repeats itself, but has anyone stopped to question why? It is with heavy heart that I watch the news. From country to country around the world tales of bloodshed, pestilence, and dismay capture headline after headline. Yet there is not one peep toward resolution. There are ,of course, excuses and blame naming.

So what of current affairs in relation to history you might ask. Let us peer back broadly over time. We do not even need to hold the magnifying glass to see a pattern. It is the proverbial quest for power. The quest that has turned brother against brother, country against country, neighbor against neighbor. Today the news is of political nature, simply an outlet for the timeless struggle of greed.

With each offer of salvation, new religion, old religion, political campaign, social exploit comes the same proclamation ,"Our way is best!". The sheep meekly follow. Never do the drones of people stop to question has this path been walked before. Where will it possibly lead? So history repeats itself.The salvations offered simply do what each before have done, proclaim only one right.
How then does a world filled with diversity learn to coexist without feelings of superiority and the dominant need for power and greed? We must educate the sheep;the drones of society who dare not question why, either because of time or status, or simply lack of thought. It is possible that there exists more than one right in this world. If one persons belief does not halt  another's why should there be war?
Why must humans fight over land that will remain long after their passing?
Why must power, be it land, monetary,or social, mitigate the way in which we walk upon this planet?
As for now, other than the age old give peace a chance, which is far too lacking for solution. I offer no answer to the questions of old. Of one thing I am sure, there is no one right. As there are no two people truly the same, if one must choose to dominate another, there will be no peace in this world. History will repeat itself as long as we are willing to let the quest for power rule this world.

In closing one question for your pondering, would there be power if there were no weak to be lead?
~R.M.Brandon 2011~

Friday, January 7, 2011

Patiently Progressing

While I would love to open this post by screaming, run to my publisher's site and buy the book, it is not yet time. The Green Man waits patiently while the the progress of editorial magic cleans the ink of his composition. As we await his debut I will offer to you a bit a of quandary.

Have you ever noticed the way the simple thought of someone's name can result in an unexpected phone call from them?

Have you ever walked through the woods and felt as if the trees moved along side of you?

Have you ever caressed the velvet frailness of a rose petal and felt it shudder beneath your touch?

What if the reality of our existence was simply a thought in the mind of something else?

Are you curious? Visit the website at 

R.M.Brandon ~2011~

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Hello 2011

It is a new year! Like peering at a blank canvas, the year ahead is filled with infinite potential. The emptiness of the canvass reflects against the now fully developed landscape of the year past. Do I really love what 2010 became?
With the question of what was looming, my mind turns again to what is yet to come. As the momentum builds towards the release of The Green Man's Curse I begin to feel as if I am turning my child over to a stranger without properly checking their background. Will the readers love my work or will they hate it? Will they hold my brain child in the palm of their hands and see the beauty between its covers that I see? The fear of an author. Always looking to the other side of the coin, my mind wanders to the possibilities. The excitement of receiving the reviews, the debut day, and beyond.
Staring at the unwritten page of 2011 I dare not limit the possibilities. The year is new, like a babe in a hospital gown, and only time will tell what it will hold.
So as for my goals for the year to come? Simply to stand on my tip toes and reach for the stars. If I happen to fall a little short I'll still catch the moon on the way down. With that I put on my hat,lace up my boots, and begin the journey down the long dirt road without a map. Don't worry I will let you know every mile marker I wander past. To health, happiness, and the pursuit of everything Hello 2011!