Squidjiggin' Grounds

The Kraken

2011-08-31T19:18:00.001Z

Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides; above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous and secret cell
Unnumber'd and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the lumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages, and will lie
Battening upon huge sea-worms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson 6 August 1809 – 6 October 1892

The Lady and the Ape

2010-12-23T17:21:00.001Z

A Lady fair, of lineage high,
Was loved by an Ape, in the days gone by.
The Maid was radiant as the sun,
The Ape was a most unsightly one,
The Ape was a most unsightly one
So it would not do
His scheme fell through,
For the Maid, when his love took formal shape,
Express'd such terror
At his monstrous error,
That he stammer'd an apology and made his 'scape,
The picture of a disconcerted Ape.

With a view to rise in the social scale,
He shaved his bristles and he docked his tail,
He grew mustachios, and he took his tub,
And he paid a guinea to a toilet club,
He paid a guinea to a toilet club
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through
For the Maid was Beauty's fairest Queen,
With golden tresses,
Like a real princess's,
While the Ape, despite his razor keen,
Was the apiest Ape that ever was seen!

He bought white ties, and he bought dress suits,
He crammed his feet into bright tight boots
And to start in life on a brand new plan,
He christen'd himself Darwinian Man!
He christen'd himself Darwinian Man!
But it would not do,
The scheme fell through
For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav'd,
Was a radiant Being,
With a brain farseeing
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav'd,
At best is only a monkey shav'd!

For the Maiden fair, whom the monkey crav'd,
Was a radiant Being,
With a brain farseeing
While Darwinian Man, though well-behav'd,
At best is only a monkey shav'd!

W.S. Gilbert, "The Lady and the Ape" from "Princess Ida"

More of Grandma Tess' Riddles

2010-11-08T16:20:00.000Z

Little Miss Etticoat,
In her white petticoat,
Has a red nose;
The longer she stands,
The shorter she grows.

What is she?

A CANDLE!

Grandma Tess' Riddles

2010-11-08T16:12:00.000Z

Steeplechase Ticket

Thirty white horses
Upon a red hill;
Here they clamp
There they stamp
Now they stand still.

What are they?

TEETH!

Yet More Rhymes from Grandma Tess

2010-11-08T15:59:00.002Z

Ye Olde Swimmin' Hole

Mother, may I go out to swim?
Yes, my darling daughter,
Hang your clothes on a hickory limb,
But don't go near the water !

The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes

2010-09-06T17:25:00.001Z

The Weary Blues


Droning a drowsy syncopated tune, Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon, I heard a Negro play. Down on Lenox Avenue the other night By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light He did a lazy sway . . . He did a lazy sway . . . To the tune o' those Weary Blues. With his ebony hands on each ivory key He made that poor piano moan with melody. O Blues! Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool. Sweet Blues! Coming from a black man's soul. O Blues! In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan-- "Ain't got nobody in all this world, Ain't got nobody but ma self. I's gwine to quit ma frownin' And put ma troubles on the shelf." Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor. He played a few chords then he sang some more-- "I got the Weary Blues And I can't be satisfied. Got the Weary Blues And can't be satisfied-- I ain't happy no mo' And I wish that I had died." And far into the night he crooned that tune. The stars went out and so did the moon. The singer stopped playing and went to bed While the Weary Blues echoed through his head. He slept like a rock or a man that's dead. by Langston Hughes

Mali Nai Coulibaly "The Cheater"

2010-06-19T00:36:00.008Z

Edu let the third goal fly but the Malian referee, Coulibaly said,"Nai! Nai!"

The mystery of the phantom and unexplained, inexplicable foul.

Potatoes--Originated in Peru--Spread from Chile

2010-02-27T03:52:00.013Z

Potatoes

Irish boxty potatoes

German rosti potatoes

<a target="_blank" href="http://www.amazon.com/Potato-Propitious-Esculent-John-Reader/dp/0300141092?ie=UTF8&tag=squidjground-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969">Potato: A History of the Propitious Esculent</a><img src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=squidjground-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0300141092" alt="" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;" border="0" height="1" width="1">

Pommes frites--"French fries"--originated in Belgium served with mayonnaise

Latkes--potato pancakes

Aloo palak, Indian potoes with spinach

What did Eurasia do before potatoes were brought from the new world?

Europe Had No Vanilla Before Columbus & Cortez

2010-02-27T03:44:00.006Z

Can you imagine European cuisine and desserts without vanilla or chocolate or tomatoes?

Europe Had No Chocolates Pre-Columbus!

2010-02-27T03:28:00.007Z

What did Italians Eat Before Columbus?

2010-02-27T03:07:00.005Z

Pasta with tomato-based sauces? Sun-dried tomatoes? Panzanella?

The Bells

2009-10-31T21:14:00.004Z

The Bells

Hear the sledges with the bells--
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the loud alarum bells--
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now--now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!

How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour

On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows ;
Yet, the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells--
Of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells--
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy meaning of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people--ah, the people--
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone--
They are neither man nor woman--
They are neither brute nor human--
They are Ghouls:--
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A pæan from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells--
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells--
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells--
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells--
Bells, bells, bells--
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

Edgar Allan Poe

When the Frost is on the Punkin

2009-10-30T19:48:00.004Z

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,
And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,
And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,
And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;
O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,
With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,
As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere
When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here—
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,
And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;
But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days
Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;
The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still
A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;
The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;
The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!—
O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps
Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;
And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through
With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!...
I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be
As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me—
I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock—
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

James Whitcomb Riley

An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you

2009-10-30T17:24:00.004Z

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

by: James Whitcomb Riley (1849-1916)

INSCRIBED WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION

To all the little children: -- The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones -- Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely bad ones.

LITTLE Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an' sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-an'-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers,--
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an' press,
An' seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout:--
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an' hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'fore she knowed what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'-bugs in dew is all squenched away,--
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' churish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

Health Care Reform--Who Needs It?

2009-09-29T19:58:00.001Z

The Owl and the Pussy Cat

2009-09-18T16:38:00.009Z

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!'

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Edward Lear

art by Margie Van Auken

The Lost Chord

2009-09-10T14:19:00.003Z

The lost chord

Seated one day at the organ,
I was weary and ill-at-ease;
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.

I know not what I was playing
Or what I was dreaming then,
But I struck one chord of music
Like the sound of a great Amen.

It flooded the crimson twilight
Like the close of an angel's psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow
Like love overcoming strife;
It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexèd meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loth to cease.

I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,
Which came from the soul of the organ
And entered into mine.

It may be that death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again;
It may be that only in heav'n
I shall hear that grand Amen.

Adelaide Anne Procter

Haniwa Figure　埴輪　（Reproduction)

2009-09-08T01:41:00.006Z

Birdcatcher Figure

Kamakura Raku Chawan 鎌倉楽茶碗

2009-09-08T00:47:00.011Z

Kamakura Raku Chawan

鎌倉楽茶碗

circa 1982

Koryo Celadon (Reproduction) 高麗靑磁器

2009-09-08T00:13:00.012Z

Koryo Celadon 高麗靑磁器

Reproduction

The crane symbolized longevity

The color is called 'pisaek' 翡色 or "kingfisher blue," like the color of the sky after a rain.

Karatsu Yaki Fugu Plate 唐津焼河豚皿

2009-09-06T18:29:00.004Z

唐津焼河豚皿

Mashiko Ware Teacup　Set 　益子焼湯飲み

2009-09-06T18:21:00.004Z

Mashiko Ware Teacup　Set 　益子焼湯飲み

Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #６

2009-09-06T18:13:00.004Z

Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #６

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #5

2009-09-06T18:00:00.008Z

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #5

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #4

2009-09-06T17:50:00.008Z

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #4

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #3

2009-09-06T17:41:00.007Z

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #3

Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #1&2

2009-09-06T17:16:00.012Z

Mashiko teacup 益子焼ゆのみ

#1

Mashiko teacup 益子焼茶碗
#1&2

Democracy

2009-06-04T14:05:00.003Z

Democracy

Democracy will not come
Today, this year
Nor ever
Through compromise and fear.
I have as much right
As the other fellow has
To stand
On my two feet
And own the land.
I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread.
Freedom
Is a strong seed
Planted
In a great need.
I live here, too.
I want freedom
Just as you.

Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Lest We Forget! Twenty years ago!

2009-06-04T13:42:00.006Z

Waiting for You to Come

I waited for you the other day,
But you did not come.
Knowing that you would not come,
I only hoped that you would come.
Until now, you still haven’t come,
Yet I am still hoping that you could come.
Eventually, you will come,
And I will always wait for you to come.
(1989.12)

translated by Lucy Lin

等你來
(1989.12)
那天等你來
你卻沒有來
知你會不來
我只盼你來
至今你未來
我仍盼你來
終究你會來
永遠等你來
(注: 这里的那个”你”是指什么来这儿的朋友应该是心照不宣了, 快二十年过去了, 我还在等.)
知名不具 2009.2

Yeats' Crazy Jane & Jack the Journeyman

2009-05-12T12:54:00.003Z

Crazy Jane And Jack The Journeyman

I know, although when looks meet
I tremble to the bone,
The more I leave the door unlatched
The sooner love is gone,
For love is but a skein unwound
Between the dark and dawn.

A lonely ghost the ghost is
That to God shall come;
I - love's skein upon the ground,
My body in the tomb -
Shall leap into the light lost
In my mother's womb.

But were I left to lie alone
In an empty bed,
The skein so bound us ghost to ghost
When he turned his head
passing on the road that night,
Mine must walk when dead.

William Butler Yeats

Yet Another Nursey Rhyme from Grandma Tess

2009-04-08T16:36:00.004Z

I went downtown
to buy a penny drum
I knocked on the door
but nobody come
So I up with a brick,
broke a pane of glass
And out come baby
Slidin' on her
Ask me no questions

More Rhymes from Grandma Tess

2009-04-08T16:25:00.004Z

Mikkel one day
He shlept in the hay
The rats and the mice
Jumped over

When he awoke
His drewdeen was broke
And nary-a schmoke
Had Mikkel the Moler

Nursery Rhymes from Grandma Tess

2009-04-08T13:20:00.003Z

Thundermug

Taffy was a Welshman
Taffy was a thief
Taffy came to my house
And stole a leg I beef

I went to Taffy's house
Taffy wasn't home
Taffy came to my house
And stole a leg of bone

I went to Taffy's house
And Taffy was in bed
So I up with the thundermug
And hit him on the head

College Basketball Officiation--a Downward Spiral?

2009-04-07T02:26:00.005Z

source

Every year it seems to me that the mayhem permitted on the college basketball court is more vicious and flagrant. The officials seem to ignore the most flagrant fouls and call the little touch fouls. The 2009 NCAA tournament reminded me of nothing so much as the inept officiation the last soccer World Cup tournament.

Get in control of the game and bring back skill--leave the combat to the gridiron! One man's opinion!

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes . . .

2009-03-28T13:55:00.010Z

Please read this revealing report from the LA Times:

click me for the LA Times Story

Beautiful Beautiful Brown Eyes

Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
I'll never love blue eyes again.

Last night I staggered in the bar room
Fell right down on the floor
These were the words that I uttered
I'll never get drunk anymore.

Oh Willie oh Willie I love you
Love you with all of my heart
Tomorrow we were to be married
But liquor has kept us apart.

For seven long years I've been married
Wish I was single again
A girl doesn't know half her troubles
Until she has married a man.

Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
Beautiful beautiful brown eyes
I'll never love blue eyes again.

For the Dismal Scientists

2009-02-20T17:41:00.002Z

It was six men of Indostan, to learning much inclined,
who went to see the elephant (Though all of them were blind),
that each by observation, might satisfy his mind.

The first approached the elephant, and, happening to fall,
against his broad and sturdy side, at once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the elephant, is nothing but a wall!"

The second feeling of the tusk, cried: "Ho! what have we here,
so very round and smooth and sharp? To me tis mighty clear,
this wonder of an elephant, is very like a spear!"

The third approached the animal, and, happening to take,
the squirming trunk within his hands, "I see," quoth he,
the elephant is very like a snake!"

The fourth reached out his eager hand, and felt about the knee:
"What most this wondrous beast is like, is mighty plain," quoth he;
"Tis clear enough the elephant is very like a tree."

The fifth, who chanced to touch the ear, Said; "E'en the blindest man
can tell what this resembles most; Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an elephant, is very like a fan!"

The sixth no sooner had begun, about the beast to grope,
than, seizing on the swinging tail, that fell within his scope,
"I see," quothe he, "the elephant is very like a rope!"

And so these men of Indostan, disputed loud and long,
each in his own opinion, exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right, and all were in the wrong!

So, oft in theologic wars, the disputants, I ween,
tread on in utter ignorance, of what each other mean,
and prate about the elephant, not one of them has seen!

John Godfrey Saxe (1816 - 1887)

Mom, me, and the unknown hangman?

2009-01-26T16:26:00.009Z

THE HANGMAN (circa 1959)

By Maurice Ogden

Into our town the hangman came,
smelling of gold and blood and flame.
He paced our bricks with a different air,
and built his frame on the courthouse square.

The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
only as wide as the door was wide
with a frame as tall, or a little more,
than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

And we wondered whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal? What the crime?
The hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

And innocent though we were with dread,
we passed those eyes of buckshot lead.
Till one cried, "Hangman, who is he,
for whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye
and he gave a riddle instead of reply.
"He who serves me best," said he
"Shall earn the rope on the gallows-tree."

And he stepped down and laid his hand
on a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
at the hangman's hand, was our relief.

And the gallows frame on the courthouse lawn
by tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way and no one spoke
out of respect for his hangman's cloak.

The next day's sun looked mildly down
on roof and street in our quiet town;
and stark and black in the morning air
the gallows-tree on the courthouse square.

And the hangman stood at his usual stand
with the yellow hemp in his busy hand.
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike,
and his air so knowing and business-like.

And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done,
yesterday with the alien one?"
Then we fell silent and stood amazed.
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

He laughed a laugh as he looked at us,
"Do you think I've gone to all this fuss,
To hang one man? That's the thing I do.
To stretch the rope when the rope is new."

Above our silence a voice cried "Shame!"
and into our midst the hangman came;
to that man's place, "Do you hold," said he,
"With him that was meat for the gallows-tree?"

He laid his hand on that one's arm
and we shrank back in quick alarm.
We gave him way, and no one spoke,
out of fear of the hangman's cloak.

That night we saw with dread surprise
the hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
the gallows-tree had taken root.

Now as wide, or a little more
than the steps that led to the courthouse door.
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
half way up on the courthouse wall.

The third he took, we had all heard tell,
was a usurer..., an infidel.
And "What" said the hangman, "Have you to do
with the gallows-bound..., and he a Jew?"

And we cried out, "Is this one he
who has served you well and faithfully?"
The hangman smiled, "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows beam."

The fourth man's dark accusing song
had scratched our comfort hard and long.
"And what concern," he gave us back,
"Have you ... for the doomed and black?"

The fifth, the sixth, and we cried again,
"Hangman, hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick", said he, "that we hangman know
for easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

And so we ceased and asked now more
as the hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night
the gallows grew to monstrous height.

The wings of the scaffold opened wide
until they covered the square from side to side.
And the monster cross beam looking down,
cast its shadow across the town.

Then through the town the hangman came
and called through the empy streets...my name.
I looked at the gallows soaring tall
and thought ... there's no one left at all

for hanging ... and so he called to me
to help take down the gallows-tree.
And I went out with right good hope
to the hangman's tree and the hangman's rope.

He smiled at me as I came down
to the courthouse square...through the silent town.
Supple and stretched in his busy hand,
was the yellow twist of hempen strand.

He whistled his tune as he tried the trap
and it sprang down with a ready snap.
Then with a smile of awful command,
He laid his hand upon my hand.

"You tricked me Hangman." I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men,
and I'm no henchman of yours." I cried.
"You lied to me Hangman, foully lied."

Then a twinkle grew in his buckshot eye,
"Lied to you...tricked you?" He said "Not I...
for I answered straight and told you true.
The scaffold was raised for none but you."

"For who has served more faithfully?
With your coward's hope." said He,
"And where are the others that might have stood
side by your side, in the common good?"

"Dead!" I answered, and amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me.
"First the alien ... then the Jew.
I did no more than you let me do."

Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
none before stood so alone as I.
The Hangman then strapped me...with no voice there
to cry "Stay!" ... for me in the empty square.

THE BOTTOM LINE: "...I did no more than you let me do."

Dr. Otto Loewi & Me--Woods Hole, 1955

2009-01-26T01:38:00.003Z

Where's the Important Job for this Man??

2009-01-22T18:39:00.008Z

Disclosure: My ninth cousin, once-removed

Our Duty

Yet what were Love if man remains unfree,
And woman's sunshine sordid merchandise:
If children's Hope is blasted ere they see
Its shoots of youth from out the branchlets rise:
If thought is chained, and gagged is Speech,
and Lies Enthroned as Law befoul posterity,
And haggard Sin's ubiquitous disguise
Insults the face of God where'er men be?
Ay, what were Love, my love, did we not love
Our stricken brothers so, as to resign
For Its own sake, the foison of Its dower:
That, so, we two may help them mount above
These layers of charnel air in which they pine,
To seek with us the Presence and the Power?

Bernard O'Dowd (1866 - 1952)

Eight Years at Sea with Cap'n Bush

2008-12-27T13:40:00.008Z

The Wreck of the Hesperus

It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sailed the wintry sea;

And the skipper had taken his little daughter,

To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,

Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,

That ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,

His pipe was in his mouth,

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow

The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailòr,

Had sailed to the Spanish Main,

‘I pray thee, put into yonder port,

For I fear a hurricane.

‘Last night, the moon had a golden ring,

And to-night no moon we see!’

The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe,

And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,

A gale from the Northeast,

The snow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain

The vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,

Then leaped her cable’s length.

‘Come hither! come hither! my little daughtèr,

And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale

That ever wind did blow.’

He wrapped her warm in his seaman’s coat

Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,

And bound her to the mast.

‘O father! I hear the church-bells ring,

Oh say, what may it be?’

‘’Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!’—

And he steered for the open sea.

‘O father! I hear the sound of guns,

Oh say, what may it be?’

‘Some ship in distress, that cannot live

In such an angry sea!’

‘O father. I see a gleaming light,

Oh say, what may it be?’

But the father answered never a word,

A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,

With his face turned to the skies,

The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow

On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed

That savèd she might be;

And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,

On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,

Through the whistling sleet and snow,

Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept

Tow’rds the reef of Norman’s Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land;

It was the sound of the trampling surf

On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows,

She drifted a dreary wreck,

And a whooping billow swept the crew

Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves

Looked soft as carded wool,

But the cruel rocks, they gored her side

Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,

With the masts went by the board;

Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,

Ho! ho! the breakers roared!

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,

A fisherman stood aghast,

To see the form of a maiden fair,

Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,

The salt tears in her eyes;

And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,

On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,

In the midnight and the snow!

Christ save us all from a death like this,

On the reef of Norman’s Woe!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882)

DAR Turned Marian Anderson Away on Easter Sunday 1939

2008-12-04T12:53:00.009Z

Growing up in the US in the 1940's, I often heard the DAR spoken of reverentially and knew that membership was regarded as one ticket punch for entry into the social register. I did not know then that my mother, a Langdon, was descended from John Langdon (my 5G grandfather) of Hempstead, L.I., who served two tours in the Revolution, one as a sergeant and one as a lieutenant despite being a practicing Quaker. Unfortunately, I did not find this out until a few years after my mother died. I'm sure she would have gotten a kick out of the idea.

I have found, similarly, that my wife, through her father's mother's line, Bement's, also has an ancestor who fought in the Revolution and her family didn't know it until I tracked down their family tree.

After my son was married and I worked on our daughter-in-law's family tree, which had already been well researched by her grandfather, I found an ancestor of theirs who had been involved in the Revolution although they were unaware that they also had such an ancestor .

Of course, some of the bloom has gone off the DAR/SAR rose for me as I've learned of some of the less savoury aspects of the DAR. For example, I was a bit shocked to find out that in 1932 the DAR had excluded black artists from Constitution Hall in DC after protests about "mixed seating"!

This exclusion policy came to a head as Easter Sunday, 1939, approached when the DAR refused to allow the great opera singer, Marian Anderson, to perform at Constitution Hall because of her race. I am proud, however, that a distant cousin of mine, Eleanor Roosevelt, resigned her membership and helped to arrange for Anderson's concert to be held at the Lincoln Memorial.

The concert was attended by a crowd estimated to be over 75,000. The concert was a one small victory on the path to overcoming prejudice and hate--a long, bumpy road.

What? Is Paulson Nuts?

2008-11-13T14:39:00.006Z

According to Bloomberg there currently is over $356.3 billion in credit card debt, $256.3 billion in student loan debt, and $199 billion in auto loan debt. Paulson wants to increase funds to push more debt out into the system which is hideously overextended!

More debt is not what the economy needs. It needs more income at the lower and intermediate levels to spur spending and service current debt such as mortgages.

Put people to work in government-sponsored public service projects, infrastructure maintenance and improvement, schools, police forces, and government-sponsored green industries. The system needs money at the bottom to have trickle UP. Trickle DOWN does NOT work!

The Negro Speaks of Rivers

2008-11-05T20:21:00.004Z

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young.
I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.
I looked upon the Nile and raised the pyramids above it.
I heard the singing of the Mississippi when Abe Lincoln went down to New Orleans, and I’ve seen its muddy bosom turn all golden in the sunset.
I’ve known rivers:
Ancient, dusky rivers.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Langston Hughes

Nondairy Creamer?

2008-09-27T20:20:00.005Z

As the melamine-in-milk-products scandal in China snowballs, the New York Times reported today:

"The F.D.A. said the King Car Food Industrial Company of Taiwan had called back seven products sold under the Mr. Brown label, mostly sold in stores specializing in Asian foods. The company’s tests in Taiwan had determined that its nondairy creamer, which was made in China, was contaminated by melamine, the F.D.A. said. No contaminated products have actually been found on American shelves.

"The F.D.A. also said that it had itself extensively tested milk-based products imported from China into the United States in recent weeks. It said it had found no contamination so far."

Questions: How did 'nondairy creamer' come to be contaminated with milk-based products?

Fleisch dich? Oder, Milch dich? Oder?

Doc's Electoral College Breakdown Prediction

2008-09-25T19:42:00.000Z

Click here

Persistence of Shadows from 1945

2008-08-17T15:56:00.004Z

The shadows of the Venetian blinds
Make black, regular diagonals
Across the chenile bedspread,
Dark leaf shadows dance and prance
Across the stripes and chenile
As the bright, clear sunshine
Pours in the windows
Through gigantic maples outside

Doc Rock, August 2008

photo by Greenmonster

Reagan-Bush-McCain Trickle Down Economics

2008-06-19T02:25:00.006Z

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime

They used to tell me I was building a dream, and so I followed the mob,

When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always there right on the job.

They used to tell me I was building a dream, with peace and glory ahead,

Why should I be standing in line, just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run, made it race against time.

Once I built a railroad; now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower, up to the sun, brick, and rivet, and lime;

Once I built a tower, now it's done. Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,

Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,

Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,

And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.

Why don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee we looked swell,

Full of that Yankee Doodly Dum,

Half a million boots went slogging through Hell,

And I was the kid with the drum!

Say, don't you remember, they called me Al; it was Al all the time.

Say, don't you remember, I'm your pal? Buddy, can you spare a dime?

Harburg & Gorney

Why Don't YOU Do Right????

2008-06-18T22:09:00.006Z

Where Reagan->Bush->McCain Will Take Us

Why Don't You Do Right?

You had plenty money, 1922
You let other women make a fool of you
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too

You're sittin' down and wonderin' what it's all about
You ain't got no money, they will put you out
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too

If you had prepared twenty years ago
You wouldn't be a-wanderin' from door to door
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too

I fell for your jivin' and I took you in
Now all you got to offer me's a drink of gin
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Get out of here and get me some money too
Why don't you do right, like some other men do?
Like some other men do

Abou ben Adam

2008-05-17T17:33:00.008Z

Abou ben Adam (may his tribe increase!)

awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,

And saw, within the moonlight of his room,

Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

an angel, writing in a book of gold.

Exceeding peace had made Ben Adam bold,

And to the Prescence in the room he said:

"What writest thou?" The vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."

"And is mine one?"said Abou, "Nay, not so,"

Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,

But cheerily still, and said, "I pray thee, then,

Write me as one who loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again, with a great awakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blest,

And lo! Ben adam's name led all the rest.

- Leigh Hunt

The Stone

2008-05-17T17:19:00.002Z

"AND will you cut a stone for him,
To set above his head?
And will you cut a stone for him--
A stone for him?" she said.
Three days before, a splintered rock
Had struck her lover dead--
Had struck him in the quarry dead,
Where, careless of a warning call,
He loitered, while the shot was fired--
A lively stripling, brave and tall,
And sure of all his heart desired . . .
A flash, a shock,
A rumbling fall . . .
And, broken 'neath the broken rock,
A lifeless heap, with face of clay,
And still as any stone he lay,
With eyes that saw the end of all.
I went to break the news to her:
And I could hear my own heart beat
With dread of what my lips might say;
But some poor fool had sped before;
And, flinging wide her father's door,
Had blurted out the news to her,
Had struck her lover dead for her,
Had struck the girl's heart dead in her,
Had struck life, lifeless, at a word,
And dropped it at her feet:
Then hurried on his witless way,
Scarce knowing she had heard.
And when I came, she stood alone--
A woman, turned to stone:
And, though no word at all she said,
I knew that all was known.
Because her heart was dead,
She did not sigh nor moan.
His mother wept:
She could not weep.
Her lover slept:
She could not sleep.
Three days, three nights,
She did not stir:
Three days, three nights,
Were one to her,
Who never closed her eyes
From sunset to sunrise,
From dawn to evenfall--
Her tearless, staring eyes,
That, seeing naught, saw all.
The fourth night when I came from work,
I found her at my door.
"And will you cut a stone for him?"
She said: and spoke no more:
But followed me, as I went in,
And sank upon a chair;
And fixed her grey eyes on my face,
With still, unseeing stare.
And, as she waited patiently,
I could not bear to feel
Those still, grey eyes that followed me,
Those eyes that plucked the heart from me,
Those eyes that sucked the breath from me
And curdled the warm blood in me,
Those eyes that cut me to the bone,
And cut my marrow like cold steel.
And so I rose and sought a stone;
And cut it smooth and square:
And, as I worked, she sat and watched,
Beside me, in her chair.
Night after night, by candlelight,
I cut her lover's name:
Night after night, so still and white,
And like a ghost she came;
And sat beside me, in her chair,
And watched with eyes aflame.
She eyed each stroke,
And hardly stirred:
she never spoke
A single word:
And not a sound or murmur broke
The quiet, save the mallet stroke.
With still eyes ever on my hands,
With eyes that seemed to burn my hands,
My wincing, overwearied hands,
She watched, with bloodless lips apart,
And silent, indrawn breath:
And every stroke my chisel cut,
Death cut still deeper in her heart:
The two of us were chiselling,
Together, I and Death.
And when at length my job was done,
And I had laid the mallet by,
As if, at last, her peace were won,
She breathed his name, and, with a sigh,
Passed slowly through the open door:
And never crossed my threshold more.
Next night I laboured late, alone,
To cut her name upon the stone.: Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

Punishment Central--the US of A

2008-05-17T12:46:00.013Z

Adult, American, poor--book 'em, Dan-o!

According to Adam Liptak writing in the NY Times:

One out of every 100 adults in the United States is behind bars!

One out of every 36 Hispanic adults in the United States is behind bars!

One out of every 15 African American adults in the United States is behind bars!

While one of every 335 white women in the US is behind bars, one out of every 100 black women is incarcerated!

Today the NY Times tells us the US is planning a big new prison in Afghanistan!

What the hell kind of animals have we turned into? In a recent interview on NPR Adam Liptak reported that in the 19th century the US prison system was a model for the world, people came from all over to see how rehabiltative incarceration could be made to work. Nowadays no one comes, we have become the poster child for a different sort of prison system--one which punishes and gives no thought to rehabilitation.

We have become a nation that kidnaps, carries out renditions, tortures, warehouses, ignores due process, runs kangaroo courts, military tribunals (with mulligans), and warehouses millions for their addictions.

We have become addicted to vengeance, inured to cruelty. When will we try to be better?

The Starved Beast

2008-04-30T13:52:00.007Z

How ironic! Bush whines that there are no easy fixes to the nation's economic woes that his profligate leadership has been responsible for.

How ironic that the Conservative philosophy of "starve the beast" that he has implemented to kill social programs and leave Medicare's and Social Security's long term prospects in jeopardy should have taken away most of the levers of power that might be quickly applied to alleviate the misery that his tax breaks for the wealthy and insane war against Iraq have engendered.

Huoguo Shacha 火锅沙茶 Chinese Hotpot

2008-04-19T03:06:00.018Z

People enjoying Chinese firepot 火锅 at a large restaurant.

For hotpot, broth is kept simmering in a hot pot in the center of the table into which thin strips of meat and pieces of vegetables are dipped to cook and then dipped in sauces. My favorite was always sha cha sauce 沙茶酱--a dark brown, pungent, thickish dip that has a somewhat gritty mouth feel. The Chinese characters of the name mean "sand" "tea" "sauce". The sauce is made from flatfish, shrimp, soybean oil, chilis, garlic, and shallots. It is also known in southeastern China in the Min dialect as "satay." The food, after being cooked quickly in the hot broth, is whisked out on one's chopsticks and dipped in the sauce which often has had a raw egg stirred into it and then popped into the mouth and eaten.

Canned shacha sauce -->

A fancy hotpot & Shacha sauce with raw egg--below.

Pineapple shaved ice 鳳梨刨冰

2008-04-19T02:57:00.006Z

Pineapple shaved ice 鳳梨冰
Originally uploaded by fuyanyu.

When I was studying Mandarin language and T'ang poetry in Taiwan in the summer of 1968, one of my favorite treats at the market place was fengli baobing 鳳梨刨冰. Baobing 刨冰 means shaved ice and fengli 鳳梨 is pineapple.

In those days baobing was generally served in a bowl with sweetened condensed milk over it and for an additional few cents with fresh fruits. My favorite was the pineapple! Pineapples in the market were always at their peak of juicy deliciousness on the day they were being sold. This was a truly refreshing and wonderfully delicious summer time treat that I still think of on hot days all these years later.

Ralph Nader at his Nadir

2008-02-25T16:16:00.006Z

The great ego has lifted Nader's head for another plunge but I view Nader at his nadir like the protagonist of Oscar Wilde's prose poem "The Master":

THE MASTER

Now when the darkness came over the earth Joseph of Arimathea, having lighted a torch of pinewood, passed down from the hill into the valley. For he had business in his own home.

And kneeling on the flint stones of the Valley of Desolation he saw a young man who was naked and weeping. His hair was the colour of honey, and his body was as a white flower, but he had wounded his body with thorns and on his hair had he set ashes as a crown.

And he who had great possessions said to the young man who was naked and weeping, 'I do not wonder that your sorrow is so great, for surely He was a just man.'

And the young man answered, 'It is not for Him that I am weeping, but for myself. I too have changed water into wine, and I have healed the leper and given sight to the blind. I have walked upon the waters, and from the dwellers in the tombs I have cast out devils. I have fed the hungry in the desert where there was no food, and I have raised the dead from their narrow houses, and at my bidding, and before a great multitude, of people, a barren fig- tree withered away. All things that this man has done I have done also. And yet they have not crucified me.'

The Doctor is "In"

2008-02-06T13:49:00.000Z

Let's face it, some astrologers are doing a better job than ARG and Zogby. If you believe in polls, then the electorate is one huge flock of sheep being constantly led hither and then yon by a bunch of spin-merchant border collies! The polls are being given too much credit by the media which needs horse races to supply talking-head fodder.

If you believe in polls, clap your hands. If you believe in polls, clap your hands! Oh, yeaa! Arg and Zogby are coming back to life, quick give them money!

The only polls that count are those on election day!

The doctor is in, please be seated.

Twa Corbies

2008-01-20T14:41:00.000Z

Photo by Doc Rock

AS I was walking all alane
I heard twa corbies making a mane:
The tane unto the tither did say,
'Whar sall we gang and dine the day?'

'—In behint yon auld fail dyke
I wot there lies a new-slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there
But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.

'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady 's ta'en anither mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.

'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue e'en:
Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

'Mony a one for him maks mane,
But nane sall ken whar he is gane:
O'er his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.' anonymous

Raclette

2008-01-13T15:44:00.005Z

Back in the late 1980's I was a technical advisor/member of the US COCOM delegation. We met periodically at the US Embassy Annex in Paris with other member delegations to negotiate the export control lists.

My wife and I had traveled twice previously to France/Paris on vacations when we lived in Germany, but our experiences had always been somewhat frustrating since neither of us (nor our son) spoke much French. My son who attended German schools spoke fluent German, my wife spoke fluent Spanish (with some Italian) with decent spoken German as well, and I understand German fairly well, had a BA, MS, and PhD in Korean language & literature with minors in Japanese and Chinese--but we were treated like uneducated bumpkins because of our very limited, halting French.

Traveling in a delegation with several French speakers and dining with international colleagues while in Paris for negotiations, however, proved much more gemütlich. Since I was normally in Paris for two weeks at a time, I started studying guide books to take best advantage of sights to see and take advantage of the food specialties available in Paris.

I used to stay at a very small hotel, the Roblin, near the Madeleine , across from Hediard Tea (where you can find a marvelous assortment of almost every imaginable tea), and down the road from Fauchon . Fauchon is a gourmand's paradise, as much a feast for the eyes as is it for the palette.

Studying the guidebooks, I came across a reference to raclette--a Swiss country dish that originated warming cheese in a pan by a fire and scraping (French: racler = to scrape) the melting cheese onto boiled potatoes, a crusty bread, ham, etc., accompanied by cornichons and a good wine (I like a nice Cotes du Rhone). Researching, I found that there was a Swiss fondue restaurant, which also offered raclette, within walking distance of my hotel, so I went. None of my colleagues wanted to come, all saying that fondue was for tourists. So I went alone.

I was seated at a small table alone and ordered. The first thing the waiter brought out was a large device (see 2nd picture above or click here) which turned out to be a crystal heat lamp that quickly produced heat sufficient to melt the cheese, and a very large hunk of cheese. I was served a basket of boiled, new redskin potatoes, a crusty baguette, a small plate of cornichons, and the wine I ordered. I timidly scraped some of the melting cheese onto a small plate, cut one of the potatoes in half, spread some cheese on it, popped it into my mouth and tasted. Good grief! It was wonderful. I had been wondering how I'd manage that large chunk of cheese and all the potatoes and bread. It was surprisingly easy as I then tucked right in!

I really wanted to share my experience and joy with my family and (eat it again myself). But I couldn't find raclette cheese in Bavaria for quite awhile thereafter and didn't know about other suitable cheeses yet.

Finally, I did find it and set about making a meal for my family. I had gotten a nice baguette, bought French cornichons, and boiled up a pot of baby redskin potatoes. I figured I'd melt the cheese in chunks in the microwave.

My wife was upstairs as the meal was about ready and I began melting the first chunk in the microwave and the very "stinky" odor of the raclette cheese began wafting upstairs. My wife later "confessed" that she was thinking, "How can I tell him I can't eat this! It smells like a gym locker. Yuck!" But being a"good sport", she tried a couple of mouthfuls. Bam! Another convert! It is delicious.

French Morbier cheese is also an excellent raclette cheese, not so pungent, but a fine flavor with very good melting qualities. It is marked with an ash line down the middle like a number of cheeses.

We came across another mildly pungent cheese that is a good-melter while in Germany, butterkaese, which was used by our neighbors in Bavaria and which became a favorite with our kids in making raclette. Bavaria produces a number of excellent cheeses, many of them pungent.

Also, after moving back to Germany afew years later, we also first saw a different kind of raclette melter/cooker--see the machine on the right. It has a grill plate on top of the heating element which allows you to grill sausages, meats, onions, peppers, etc., while it also has eight popsicle-shaped metal "pans" with non-heat-conducting handles for melting individual portions of cheese under the heating element at the same time. It has a rheostat for regulating the heat of the element.

I recommend you try raclette and, if you love it, as we do, consider one of these machines.

For some recipe ideas, click here.

Obama Voters Voted for McCain Instead?????

2008-01-10T15:37:00.001Z

Not being an independent, it is hard for me to see/understand/believe that if I were going to vote for Obama, why on earth I would go vote for McCain instead (or vice-versa). I think it is bull, but, like I say, I don't know.

What I do know is that the excellent weather made it easier to get out older voters who apparently supported Clinton--none of the talking heads, it disturbs me, ever seems to regard issues or enlightened self-interest as playing any role in the vote. The pundits wonder at the size of crowds that Obama drew versus Clinton--younger folks tend to be more attracted to and less put off by crowds than some of us older fogies, I think.
I have no desire to go and be part of Clinton's or anyone else's crowd, to touch the hem of a God's gown, or such. If there is a young/old split, the punditry may have been missing it just as they seem not to have credited differences in on-the-ground organizations and their abilities to get voters out.

Check out this Clinton volunteer's view from the ground level in NH:

http://bdb.mydd.com/story/2008/1/9/10265/21203

Samidare 五月雨

2007-12-05T13:39:00.001Z

The raindrops of May

Roll across my roof

Chattering pinecones

.....Doc Rock, Carmel, 1967

Carmel Bus

2007-12-04T15:46:00.000Z

Like dried up prunes

They ride the Carmel bus

And talk

about station wagons

and changing banks

and stocks and silks and wealth

and Currier and Ives prints

and Callard and Bowser's treacle

While Death sneaks up.

Doc Rock, Carmel, California, spring 1966

What has torture done to us? A Nation that Tortures

2007-12-01T17:05:00.000Z

What have we let the Neo-cons and the Cheney-Bush sickos turn the United States into? In less than eight years they have turned us from a respected beacon of Democratic aspiration--a trusted ally and a role model for national behavior into a nation where tortures that we executed Japanese as war criminals for after WWII are practiced, justified, and idealized?

What we don't do our selves, we outsource to others.

We have reverted into religious bigots, law-perverters, law-ignorers, spying on our own citizens, without moral compass, sense of shame, or scruple. What kind of behaviors will we see crop up increasingly in our own society as a result? Bread cast upon the waters . . . .

The Uninsured

2007-11-29T13:17:00.000Z

Quo usque tandem abutere, Congressum, patientia nostra?

Thirty-three years or more you've been grappling, unsuccessfully, with healthcare for all Americans.

My law school graduating kid and his family (including my two year old grandchild) will be uninsured this coming summer while my son prepares for and takes his bar exams before taking up his job in a law firm in the autumn.

My daughter, who will have my second grandchild in March, will be uninsured unless she goes back to work driving a forkift in an un-airconditioned warehouse while her hard-working husband also has no job-related health insurance job. These are all hard-working, tax-paying people like so many other uninsured Americans.

It is a national disgrace, unfortunately, we have lost any sense of shame--especially those on the hill.

Note to Mukasey

2007-11-20T17:47:00.000Z

And the subpoenaed materials!!!

Audubon's Book of Prowl

2007-09-05T20:13:00.000Z

Florida Page Hawk

Idaho Broad Standing Sapsucker

update

The Variegated Sap-sucker

Gonzo: Like Othello, He Loved Too Well

2007-08-27T17:00:00.000Z

τραγωδία

A Song for the Goat

Gonzales: Not that he loved Bush too little, but too well!

"artificial pig inseminator"

2007-08-21T20:14:00.000Z

In a promo for his TV show "Dirty Jobs" Mike Rowe describes one dirty job as "artificial pig inseminator." This description raises the questions: Does the job involve inseminating
artificial pigs? Is the inseminator himself artificial?

Apple Shoes

2007-07-27T10:54:00.001Z

I left the government in the summer of 1979 to go back to Bloomington, Indiana, and work with Jeff Danielson who had his coffeehouse and bakery, The Runcible Spoon, up and running, to create a restaurant concept and menu and then to set up the restaurant within the business.

Jeff ran the beverage and bakery end of the business and, together with his wife, the administration of the ordering and employee payroll, etc.

Once the basement of the building was renovated and the kitchen equipment was installed, the menu was conceptualized and firmed up, we opened first with breakfasts only.

We got our feet firmly on the ground with breakfasts which centered around three egg omelettes in the French style--Bon Femme [with fried potatoes, bacon, and onions], Edouard [toasted croutons, garlic, and cauliflowers], Ciboulette [chives], etc. Also my Runcible Egg Rounds--two round griddled eggs on open-faced, toasted English muffins with grilled Canadian bacon, topped with a rich Hollandaise made from scratch every morning, were very popular.

Lunches followed next and we served a variety of sandwiches including our very popular Stage Door Deli-style tuna sandwich, a homemade soup du jour, a fresh garden salad, and a feature quiche of the day--my quiches all had an added zip with the addition of my secret ingredient--some zesty Bulgarian feta cheese.

Lastly we started serving dinners featuring two different entrees every day accompanied by appropriate side dishes. My philosophy was that the sides had to be as interesting and excellent as the entrees.

The restaurant was in the basement of the coffeehouse and the first floor was the coffeehouse. The bakery was also on the first floor as was the coffee roaster and the "barista" station as it came to be known later when Starbucks [founded 1971 as a local Seattle coffee roaster and coffee retailer] came on the scene.

One of our "baristas" was a young German woman who was attending Indiana University whose English was a bit spotty and heavily accented. One day when Jeff was not around upstairs, she came bouncing downstairs and somewhat excitedly told me, "Ed! Ve have no apfel shoes!" I was taken aback by her concern, by the strange visions of apples wearing shoes in my head, and by my total ignorance of "apfel shoes," let alone that we should have them.

It took a minute or two of international communication for me to realize that we needed to get some apple juice right away!

Woods Hole Memories

2007-07-27T10:50:00.003Z

Between my freshman and sophomore year in high school (summer of 1956) , I had the opportunity to spend the summer with my uncle, Dr. Morris Rockstein, and his family at Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

I stayed in a small apartment with my uncle, Morris, his wife, Elaine, and my two cousins, Sue and Mady. The building we lived in was owned by the Marine Biological Laboratory (MBL). Upstairs around the corner was the renowed biologist, Julian Huxley [five years later I met Julian's brother, the author, Aldous Huxley , when he gave a lecture at Monterey Peninsula College in Monterey, California].

One of my uncle's early mentors was the Nobel Laureate, Otto Loewi, who this summer lived nearby. Loewi, a Jew, had been born in Frankfurt, Germany, but was teaching and doing research at the University of Graz in Austria when the Nazi's invaded, arrested him, and seized his assets. He was fortunate to get to the U.S. in 1940 and was teaching at NYU when my uncle met him. He and his wife were warm and welcoming people who could find time for a curious teenager who was fascinated by this brilliant couple.

One day, my uncle introduced me to a very distinguished looking gentleman whose name was
Winterton C. Curtis. It turned out that Mr. Curtis had been one of the scientists called to Dayton, Tennessee, by Clarence Darrow to be one of the expert witnesses for the defense at the Scopes "Monkey Trial," but the judge would not permit their testimony. Mr. Curtis had written an account of the trial which was included in the book D-Day at Dayton. He gave me an autographed off-print of his story, which, unfortunately, has disappeared over the intervening years.

I only met Sir Vincent Wigglesworth, the eminent British entomologist, once at Woods Hole that summer. We ate most of our meals in a large cafeteria-style chow hall that served the laboratory community. One day at breakfast Sir Vincent joined us at the table. On his tray was a stack of three pancakes with three pats of butter. My attention was drawn immediately to his eating as I was unfamiliar with Europeans' tendency to always keep their fork in one hand and their knife in the other, rather than cutting with the right and then taking up the fork with the right. Very soon, however, I became more fascinated by the precision with which he would cut off a precise piece of pancake and then a precise portion of butter from the pat and butter the cut piece. Each time the pat lasted exactly for one pancake. At the end of this prodigious feat, I was tempted to applaud his consummate skill, self-discipline, and precision! I had been hypnotized--I could not not watch him eat his pancakes! Later in life, I purchased Sir Vincent's Principles of Insect Physiology and was once again drawn in.

There was an evening lecture series at the MBL during the summer. One of the lectures I really enjoyed was by George Gamow, the physicist and author of 1,2,3 Infinity. Gamow picked a small topic, "The Origin and Evolution of the Universe." I was a bit "shocked" by his first slide, the Origin of the Milky Way (click the link to see the slide). This was my first exposure to cosmology, but it was presented in a very interesting and entertaining way just like his 1,2,3 Infinity, a mathematical sojourn into physics.

Another interesting (and influential for me) lecture was presented by George Wald, the discoverer of Vitamin A and later to be Nobel Laureate, who spoke on the "Origin & Evolution of Life." I learned about the Urey-Miller experiments to recreate the conditions of the primordial soup that lead to the chemical evolution of life. It was heady stuff for a soon-to-be high school sophomore who would be starting biology the coming fall.

On July 25, 1956, the Italian oceanliner the SS Andrea Doria was struck by the Swedish-America Line's SS Stockholm off Nantucket and sank. For much of the rest of that summer various bits and pieces of the items carried on the Andrea Doria washed up on the shores of Cape Cod.

Cape Cod, Woods Hole, the Marine Biological Laboratory, the whole gestalt were a wonderful eye opener for young boy from a sleepy town on the Delaware River in South Jersey in the 1950's!

More another day

Playing the Piano by Ear

2007-07-26T22:46:00.000Z

About 1947 or 1948 (around 60 years ago) when I was in second or third grade, we went from South Jersey up to Long Island to visit my father's youngest sister, Lillian; her husband, Uncle Mike; and my cousins.

I remember their house was much nicer than ours, Uncle Mike was a lawyer. The house had a stone facade and a very interesting (to me) doorbell button, with the image of a crescent moon on it. The house was on the small side, however, and we had to sleep on beds in the basement.

After a lovely dinner and boring (to me) adult conversation, we headed down to the basement to get ready for bed. In the basement near my parent's bed was a floor lamp, the main source of light in that part of the basement, and an old upright piano.

As we got ready for bed, my dad remarked, "Uncle Mike plays the piano by ear."

The next evening when we were in the basement with Uncle Mike tickling the ivories, I watched him very closely with increasing disappointment as his head, let alone his ear, never got close to the piano!

Mr. Potato Head, Kim Hyok-jin

2007-07-25T13:20:00.000Z

North Koreans the Irish of the Far East?????????

From the Korean Central News Agency website:

" International Scientific Symposium on Potato Held Pyongyang, July 24 (KCNA) -- An international scientific symposium on potato was held here on Monday and Tuesday. Present at the symposium were Kim Hyok Jin, vice-minister of Agriculture, officials concerned, and scientists, technicians and experts in the field of agriculture and representatives of the International Potato Center and different countries. The symposium discussed the theoretical and practical problems arising in putting the potato farming on a scientific and modern basis, increasing the potato production and widening its use. Ko Kum Hak, vice-president of the Academy of Agricultural Science, made an opening address which was followed by congratulatory speeches by Kim Hyok Jin and Regional Leader of the East and Southeast Asia and the Pacific of the International Potato Center Fernando N. Ezeta. The speakers expressed belief that the symposium would provide an opportunity to widely exchange advanced scientific and technological successes and good experience gained in different countries and thus make a great contribution to prosperity and development of each country and each nation and development of human civilization. The participants heard papers entitled "Potato farming and its prospect in the DPRK" and "Potato Research and Development Strategy for East, Southeast Asia and the Pacific." Then followed speeches made by scientists and researchers of the DPRK and other countries on the subjects of cooperation projects for potato cultivation, potato breeding, seed potato production, cultivation and insect pests of potato. A letter to leader Kim Jong Il was adopted at the symposium. "

KCI: Suffer the little potatoes to come unto me

Touch me in the morning . . . .

2007-05-30T13:27:00.001Z

click me

Kentucky Windage

2007-01-28T15:53:00.001Z

The big wind blowing out of Kentucky (Sen Mitch "Mr. Parliamentary Procedure" McConnell and from Republicans all over Congress) is that the ingenious Bush "surge" (repeat as mantra: "not an escalation") is giving the Iraqi's their last chance to clean up the mess (which the coven of Bush-Cheney-Rice-Rumsfeld-Bremer made). The Conservative spin machine has taken a new tack of unloading their guilt on the victims of their poor planning and lack of vision.

On the other hand, the lame-duck Bush-Cheney-Rice-Gates cabal is now pushing their old canard that it is unpatriotic for Americans to have the temerity to speak their minds and dare to point out that the administration's war strategy has, as it were, no clothes.

UPDATE on McConnnell's fund-raisers.

Fire Bear

2007-01-27T04:31:00.003Z

In the early '70's I was teaching Korean Studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. My office was in Goodbody Hall, not to far from main east and west arteries on the south side of the IU campus.

One of my graduate classes just had four students, so we'd meet in my office which had a large desk plus a a good-sized table and four chairs. One day as we were grappling with a translation of a Korean poem, we could hear a fire-engine, with siren going, racing toward the east side of town (where my apartment was). I jokingly remarked, "I hope they're not going to my place!" Famous last words, eh? About two minutes later my office phone rang and it was a neighbor calling to tell me that the firemen couldn't get into my apartment to put out the fire because the door was locked!

I raced home only to find that my landlord had let the firemen in shortly after I had put down the phone.

While the apartment was full of smoke, nothing had burned except for a stuffed bear! The bear was sitting in a window on a polished marble window sill and fortunately it wasn't touching anything else. How had it caught fire?

It was a sunny day and near the bear was a shiny chrome haidryer. Apparently the sun's rays had been magnified by the shiny chrome and set the bear afire!

After this experience you'd think I'd learn to keep my mouth shut, but that lesson still hasn't seeped in, I guess.

Snack! Snack!

2007-01-27T04:26:00.000Z

I spent the summer of 1968 in Taipei (Taiwan) studying Chinese at the Mandarin Language Center 國語中心 of Taiwan Normal University 台湾師範大學. In those days things were not so expensive there as they are today.

Taipei was a great city for Chinese food since there were many refugees fom all over China who had opened restaurants there. So one could make a trencherman's tour of all the great regional cusines of China in just one city. One of my favorite regional dishes was the southern-style huo guo hot pot with shacha sauce 火鍋沙茶醬.

Right across the alley from where I used to go to get this wonderful dish was a snake place. They had a variety of live snakes in cages. A customer would choose a snake and then the proprietor would grab the snake and with some sort of sharp instrument, while holding the snake near the head, make an incision and quickly skin the live snake in seconds. Then he'd chop it up, put it in a bowl with some sauce, and collect his price for this snake snack. I witnessed this only once and on subsequent visits averted my gaze elsewhere.

While in Taiwan, I met and married my first wife who was Taiwanese. When we were first dating, one day we went to a hotspring resort called Wulai which was famous for its aboriginal village. As we were walking down a long a path to an attraction, I was intent on looking at a map of the area to see what we might see, when she suddenly yelled, "Paper snake!" Thinking I was about to step on the possibly deadly poisonous 'paper snake,' I probably jumped about three feet straight up and only then saw a street vendor peddling paper snakes on a string with a stick for 'control'. I did get a brief thrill out of my encounter with this unfamiliar serpent, while she got a good laugh at my moment of panic.

Several years later when we were living in a small bungalow outside of Bloomington, Indiana, while I was teaching at Indiana University, one day my wife was mowing our big yard (something she liked to do) while I was working inside. Suddenly she appeared at the screen door literally bouncing up and down yelling, "Snack! Snack!" I wondered if she were hungry and thought that if she were, she was unusually animated. She led me outside and showed me a snake in the grass, a pine snake, I think. Then I understood. I started laughing and she got mad, because, not being familiar with North American serpents, she had been scared. This time, several years later, in her excitement, 'snake' had been transmogrified into 'snack.' The worm had turned.

Molson's Ale in Montreal and Chinese Goats

2007-01-27T04:12:00.000Z

In the summer of 1966 I was studying Chinese at Middlebury College in Vermont when a friend and I decided to drive up to Montreal for a Molson's and to visit some friends at McGill University. I had bought an old red Triumph TR-3A which we drove up. I had met my friend that summer at Middlebury. Not only was he an extremely talented advanced Chinese student (who spoke fluent Mandarin with lovely pronounciation), but he was also a cracker-jack mechanic and that old Triumph was more trouble than it was worth (and I was worthless at keeping it maintained).

Sometime that evening my friend and I, both ex-military, but now bearded, were walking down a street when a young Chinese couple came walking toward us. As the coupled approached us, the young man made a comment in Mandarin to his girlfriend to the effect of, "Look at those two old goats."

Much to his surprise, and, I suspect, embarassment, my friend ran after them and chased them down the block, scolding him in impeccable Mandarin, and asking why he would ever dream of calling nice 'foreigners' like us, goats!

I imagine that he became more circumspect about talking about non-Asians in Chinese for a good while!

Kennedy Toppers

2007-01-27T03:56:00.000Z

My freshman year in college at Rutgers I lived in a dormitory that had a broad spectrum of students, many unlike people I had ever met before. Among these were two chubby young guys who seemed inseparable and who always wore suits and ties. No sooner did they get there than they enrolled in the Young Conservatives. (I don't know if there was a Young Log Cabin Republicans Club there)

When Kennedy, at an earlier Democratic National Convention, had broken with tradition and campaigned actively for the Vice-Presidential nomination, I was working in my uncle's lab at the Marine Biological Laboratory in Woods Hole, Massachusetts, as a lab factotum and bottle washer. I listened to the convention on the radio in rapt attention whenever I could.

So when Kennedy was running for the presidency in a later election, I was inspired to join his supporters and, informed by the Conservative gold dust twins' example, I looked for a Young Democrats Club on campus.

I look back fondly to those days, especially raising money for the campaign by selling Kennedy Toppers, the straw boaters such as pictured above, which were a vibrant symbol of this youthful campaign.

Years later I worked actively in the campaigns of Vance Hartke and Birch Bayh, both for the Senate from Indiana as well as the early campaign of Frank McCloskey for Mayor of Bloomington, Indiana, before he ran successfully to become a member of the US House.

Later, I worked in the US Government for 30 years and was prevented from working for my candidates actively by the Hatch Act. The Bush Administration has perniciously rendered the Hatch Act meaningless by so politicizing the bureaucracy that the Hatch Act should be scrapped immediately!

State of the Union 2007: "Whatever you voted for, You Didn't Vote for Failure!"

2007-01-24T16:08:00.000Z

What many people voted for was to avoid being tarred with the brush of unpatriotism and to prevent Bush-Cheney fantasy WMD's from being turned on Americans.

Pinhead and Foodini

2007-01-23T15:38:00.000Z

When Pinhead speaks it is with the voice of the great Svengali, Foodini. Pinhead hasn't had an original thought since Lucky was a Pup. It isn't a Bunin hand up inside of Pinhead moving his lips on the state of things, but rather Chenini supported by the wingnut vanity presses at the conservative intellectual brothels like the A E I and so many other tax-returned conservative spin merchants. Like the undynamic duo of old TV, our modern day Pinhead and Foodini are after riches, too. Their latest exploit is to keep US troops in Iraq as long as possible to ensure the continuing outflow of tax payer bucks to their 100,000+ crony capitalist buddies from KBR (read Halliburton) and elsewhere while hoping to yet take advantage of the special oil breaks they had built into the Iraqi constitution to steal from the Iraqi's and give to the oil giants.

Three Cats and a Roast

2006-11-23T16:04:00.000Z

I swear that the following testimony is true!

Many, many years ago I was living in a small cinder block house on what were then the western outskirts of Bloomington, Indiana. I had three large house cats, Damao, a large, dark grey, tiger-striped cat; Heizi, a black cat with white boots (sweetest cat in the world); and Xiaomao, a tri-color female with six toes on each of her front paws.

I was having company for dinner and was defrosting a Boston pork roast into which I was going to insert pieces of garlic, then roll it in salt and pepper, roast, and serve with scalloped apples, etc.

I had to run out to the store and was behind on defrosting the roast. I decided to set it on a plate in the sink and to invert a mixing bowl over it to keep the cats from getting at it. Just before I went out the door, I was overcome with a wave of caution and filled another, slightly smaller, mixing bowl most of the way with water and set it on top of the inverted bowl to insure its protection from the cats.

When I got back from the store about 45 minutes later (I'm a sucker for grocery stores), I found a partially chewed, semi-defrosted pork roast on my kitchen floor. Amazed, I went to the sink to try to ascertain where I had gone wrong. In the sink was the plate with an inverted mixing bowl on it and with a bowl of water on top of that.

'Tis a puzzlement, a mystery, a pork enigma wrapped in dander which I've never been able to fathom, but I have an image in my mind of two cats holding up some bowls while a third wrestles a pork roast to the ground for all to share.

Tragedy in Huntsville

2006-11-21T12:36:00.000Z

Once again the liars and spin merchants at NTSB and in the school bus industry will tell us that school buses are safe without restraints when three kids are dead and most of the other 40+ are injured. It is plainly clear that if they had been wearing shoulder harness seat belts, injuries would have been minimalized and deaths probably avoided. We just don't value children enough to spend money on their safety!!!! Moreover, how do we expect them to learn that safety belts should be worn, when we send them to school daily with the implicit message that they are not needed???? Shame, shame, shame!

Very Low Food Security, Very Low Food Security Hippos!

2006-11-21T12:13:00.000Z

From the valley of New Speak that brought us "Patriot Act" and "No Child Left Behind" comes the latest mangling of meaning--the substitution of "very low food security" for "hungry." I guess we'll have to re-edit Kafka's title to the "Very Low Food Security Artist." I wonder what the codeword for "shame" might be in Washington? Oh, wait, there is no word for that now is there!

Did your kids ever play Very Low Food Security, Very Low Food Security Hippos?

Manipulated Gas Prices?

2006-11-17T03:31:00.000Z

Anyone notice what's happening to the price of gas at the pump now that the election campaign is over???? Prices at the pump have jumped a good 10 cents+ in the last week, but there was no attempt to manipulate the voters was there?

What We Want

2006-11-12T20:13:00.000Z

Oversight!

We want a Congress that carries out its Constitutional responsibilities to tax, fund, and oversee the execution of the laws of the land. We are tired of a Congress with blinders on, without the courage of its conviction (if any).

We want full and complete transparency in earmarking!

We demand a real ethics process with bulldogs and teeth in both the House and the Senate.

We want legislation that passes both the House and Senate and is not rewritten by the majority in camera after conference subverting the will of Congress.

We want an end to K Street bribery, including trips, comps, and we want the offer, delivery, and/or acceptance of favors to be felonies!

We want everyone to have the same health plans as Congress (with contributions from workers and employers like that for government employees) with the government as the payer-of-last-resort for those without work or with low incomes.

We want the United States to renounce forever preemptive war.

We want habeas corpus reinstated for all!

We demand due process and equality before the law for all!

We must end torturing prisoners, including waterboarding which, in the past, we have prosecuted others for doing as a war crime!

We demand that the United States accord with international law and honor its treaty obligations.

Take one for the Team

2006-10-29T02:45:00.000Z

In baseball when a batter doesn't back away from a pitch to advance his team's cause, we say, "He took one for the team." I think that that was old Rush's intent when he attacked Michael J. Fox the other day over his support for Ben Cardin, inter alia. I believe that this was a deliberate and calculated attack designed not so much to affect the stem cell debate as to follow up the media's stupid obsession with Madonna's adoption with a callous segueway designed to completely push the Foley-Reynolds-Hastert debacle from the public's view. And it's worked! Rush is a little more tarred, but he's taken one for the team and the patrons won't forget his sacrifice.

Doc Rock
Beginning my 66th year

France: North Korea nuclear test was a failure

2006-10-13T02:59:00.000Z

According to the Associated Press, French authorities claimed that North Korea's test was so low yield, it must have been a failure. Other analysts tried to shoosh the French, worrying that North Korea might conduct another test. What???? Is everything knee jerk? Does anyone think these things through?

The whole Western world is tap dancing as fast as a frog on a frying pan to Kim Chong-il's tune. John Bolton, the most personable diplomat since Ghengis Khan is screaming for sanctions and wingnuts are coming out of the woodwork arguing we should put all the North Koreans out of their misery to get Kim. The Japanese want to starve the North Koreans into submission. China's afraid they'll all stream across the Yalu and eat the bark off their trees.

I say encourage Kim to run eight or nine tests to start! We estimate Kim only has enough plutonium for eight bombs, don't we? Kim can't pedal what he blows up under the Korean mountains to Al Qaeda or Iran!

But if we make things ever worse for North Korea with sanctions--cut of access to Japanese markets and blolckade shipping, we can almost GUARANTEE a high-priced sale of a nuclear device to some wealthy non-state actor or state-sponsored terror organization.

Negotiate with the jerk! Let him humiliate you from time to time. Make him look good with his people with food, health care, fertilizer, equipment, and energy. Make him dependent on and glad for inclusivity in the community of nations.

Encirclement/isolation didn't convert China and it won't convert North Korea.

Beating the crap out of kids doesn't improve their behavior. Starving and kicking dogs doesn't bring them to obedience. Ignoring their tantrums and rewarding their occasional good behaviors appears to be the way to go.

Chicken Littling is not the answer. Let's act like adults for a change. And let's rein in the bully boys.

Doc Rock

Paper Tigers: North Korea a Future or Weapons?

2006-10-09T03:43:00.001Z

Chris Hill the State Department's latest empty threat-monger has put us in the enviable position of either being paper tigers (once again) or having to flex muscles we've wasted and bled away on the Bush-Cheney-Rumfeld triumph in Iraq--at least Congress has ponied up $20 mill to celebrate mission accomplished in 2007!

Kim Chong-il, the bouffanted rock-star Dear Leader of North Korea, must be cowering in his bunker waiting for our bunker buster to end his cowardice!

The Bush bully boys need to learn not to throw aound threats that we can't deliver on, don't have the stones to deliver on, don't have the friends to help us deliver on. There were those who argued that the Bush's planned misadventure in Iraq would leave us in just this state. And it has.

Korea specialists such as myself argued in the run up to Iraq, that North Korea and Iran were much more important and threatening states and Iraq, piled on top of Afghanistan would leave us impotent to deal with these threats! Ironic, isn't it, that in bringing about Iraqi regime change, we removed the only countervailing force/challenge to Iran in the region.

Then we sent that arrogant loose cannon, Bolton, to P'yongyang to insult Kim Chong-il out of dealing with us and it's been all down hill from there.

The queston prior to our invasion of Iraq which I raised then is the same I raise now--is Iraq or North Korea more likely to sell missiles and/or WMD's to non-state actors such as Al Qaeda?

Doc Rock

John

2006-10-09T03:06:00.001Z

Between my high school freshman and sophomore year, I was spending the summer at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, working as an assistant to my uncle Morris who was doing research to determne if the terminal pigment spots (so-called "eyespots") on the tips of the arms/rays of the common Atlantic starfish, Asterias forbesi, were, indeed, photosensitive.

In addition to various chores around my uncle's main lab which included a large tank with running seawater, I also had to do an extensive search of various biological and chemical abstracts for information adenosinetriphosphotase (ATP) another research interest for physiologist uncle. Finally I regularly did counts on the starfish in a second lab with running seawater whih was in a darkroom. Half the starfish in the tank had had the "eyespots" removed. A light was shone into one end of the tank and counts of the starfish in the lighted half of the tank were made hourly to see if there were any difference in the attraction to the light by the starfish with eyespots and those without.

I first became aware of John F. Kennedy in 1956 when he ran for the Vice Presidential nomination at the Democratic National Convention and almost succeeded in wresting the nomination from Estes Kefauver who, ultimately, was selected as Adlai E. Stevenson's running mate. Kennedy's speech caught the attention of many young people who rallied to his cause when he later ran for the presidency.

Monomania vs Single-minded vs Idee Fix_ated???

2006-10-08T17:47:00.000Z

Kokedera (Saihoji) Temple in Kyoto, Japan, has a world-famous garden comprised of a "carpet" of 22 species (one source says 120 species) of mosses. This idée fixe, this monomania, this single-mindedness of moss gardening has created a unique 4.5 acre patch of earth. It has become such a popular place to visit that, even though it is open to the public, one must write and coordinate a date for his visit.

Idée fixe, monomania, single-mindedness is not solely the provenance of Japanese Zen gardeners. A certain kind of idée fixe has been in operation here in America the last few years. It seems as though Osama (Usama) Bin Laden appears ever in his Saddam costume.

The 19 names of suspected hijackers released by the FBI don't point to Iraq. They come from Saudi Arabia, Egypt, United Arab Emirates; however, most of the actual identities and nationalities remain controversial.

"President Bush had wondered immediately after the 9/11 attack whether Saddam Hussein’s regime might have had a hand in it. Iraq had been an enemy of the United States for 11 years, and was the only place in the world where the United States was engaged in ongoing combat operations. As a former pilot, the President was struck by the apparent sophistication of the operation and some of the piloting, especially Hanjour’s high-speed dive into the Pentagon. He told us he recalled Iraqi support for Palestinian suicide terrorists as well. Speculating about other possible states that could be involved, the President told us he also thought about Iran. " [The 9/11 Commission Report: 10.3 “PHASE TWO”AND THE QUESTION OF IRAQ] This "might" became the idée fixe of the so-called "war on terror."

Was Iraq Dubya's idee fixe? Was it rather an Oedipal manifestation of some urge to best H.W. and to complete the job he thought dad had left unfinished? Or was it, again, rather, about the reelction coupled with Cheney's guilt about Halliburton's asbestos settlemnet?

It wasn't about WMD that they tried against al odds to convince us were there. It wasn't because of Saddam's being connected with Osama despite how many times they said otherwise as they finally admitted.

It certainly has cost America a ton of treasure and provided an incredible opportunity for graft and corruption.

But, then again, maybe it was just to steal the Iraqis' oil?

Doc Rock

Are We Responsible? The Jihadist Movement & Talibanization

2006-10-06T12:04:00.000Z

An epiphany: Could it be that our "covert" support for the Mujahadeen against the Marxist regime in Afghanistan 1978-1990 helped to fuel the growth of the fundamentalist Islamic worldwide Jihadist movement and of the repressive Taliban regime in Afghanistan--both of which so plague us today? Could it be that our former ideological obsession with the Soviets and the "Red Menace" has returned to us seven fold? Do I smell an irony here?

Doc Rock

Bush Push for Nukeyoulear Option

2006-02-18T19:52:00.000Z

Our Respected and Beloved Leader, Dubya, the Uniter not Divider, the Compassionate Conservative, and the Crown Prince of Crony Capitalism, is now urging that the US seek security in the cheap power allure of nukeyoulear power.

Nuclear power appears cheap only because major costs are unloaded on future generations--sound familiar--like any wars you know???? The clean up and disposal of nuclear wastes is an unresolved, unsolved problem. The real costs of nuclear energy need to be accounted up front and not at the end, and the price needs to be paid as you go.

Bush points to our dear allies, the French, as the wise developers and users of nuclear power--ironic isn't it? If we had been as wise as the French and stayed out of Iraq, we might better be able to afford to invest in solving energy problems, but the Bush starve-the-beast, destroy all entitlements, shift-tax-burden-to-the-middle-class policies will leave us broke and behind for generations.

I favor a different nuclear option known as "throw the bums out!"

Doc Rock

Tailhook & Ethics--A Blind Eye for the Straight Guy

2005-01-12T13:54:00.001Z

I was a student in the senior class (College of Naval Warfare) of the United States Naval War College (NWC) the autumn after the Tailhhook scandal broke. There were at least three of my fellow students who were identified as having attended the Tailhook convention in question and who were somewhat under a shadow while their specific activities were being 'investigated'. Ultimately, no action, that I knew of, was taken against anyone in my year .

During this year at the NWC the entire Navy "stood down" for a day in order to conduct sexual harassment training. The training turned out to be the best sexual harassment training that I ever encountered in my 30+ years of military and civilian government service. One reason for that was an excellent sexual harassment video produced by the U.S. Coast Guard. It gave very clear guidelines about what could constitute sexual harassment and clearly delineated what the person or persons who perceived that they were being harassed should do and how supervisors were required to handle any incident.

In addition to the sexual harassment one-day stand-down, we also had a two-day ethics mini-course during the year. It consisted of a series of presentations and panels that were conducted in our auditorium in front of the entire student body. The event was organized by a Navy Jewish chaplain who also had served as a Naval line officer in and during the Vietnam conflict in river warfare in regular combat. Who, consequently, had excellent "street creds" with the O-6's & O-5's in my class.

One of the panelists was a legislative assistant to the late Indiana Congressman Frank McCloskey from Bloomington. She had been an Army captain and was openly lesbian. She was also both articulate and intelligent. I was surprised at the vitriolic reception which she received from many of my classmates. What most surprised me most, however, in my naivete, was how so many of my male, minority classmates appeared to be the least tolerant of this panelist. I would have thought, as a son a Jewish father and Catholic mother who had seen a modicum of prejudice in my day, that those who had experienced discrimination would be more sensitive to prejudice and resist it in ourselves and others. The opposite appeared, in general, to be the case.

Homophobia is a very powerful force especially, it would seem, in those not completely comfortable in their own sexual orientation. Similarly, there were many of my male classmates who showed little concern for the types of behaviors that came to the public's attention as a result of the Tailhook scandal and often showed a lesser respect for or tolerance of their female confreres. These old attitudes are slow to die out.

Walkin' the Dog

2005-01-11T18:46:00.000Z

When I retired from the government in October of 2004, I had a lot of plans and projects that I thought I would work on and finally get done--rework a monograph on the 1592 war between Japan and Korea, get the deck stripped and restained, and such.

One of the things I hadn't envisioned and one of the things I've most enjoyed is walking the dog. My best friend, after my wife, is Minnie. We found her through petfinder.com. She was in an animal shelter on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. We had been looking for a smallish dog that would be on the low end of allergenicity since our grown son has some degree of dog and cat allergy. We were looking for a bichon or poodle combination and were delighted to find Minnie (called "Teacup" at the time).

In our daily lives filled with TV and people from morning to night, the hour or so out with Minnie walking around the edge of the golf course by which we live is the best time for thought and introspection. I just enjoy the daily miniscule changes in nature which I can see and Minnie can smell. Walking the dog, being out with my friend, is one of the least expensive and most valuable times of my day. Try it, you'll like it.

Doc Rock

Studyin' War

2005-01-11T18:28:00.000Z

I received my doctorate from Princeton in 1981. In 1992-1993 I was lucky to have the opportunity to go back to school for a year at the United States Naval War College (NWC) in Newport, Rhode Island. I was in the College of Naval Warfare (sometimes called the "senior college" since it was comprised largely of Navy and Coast Guard Captains and Army, Air Force, and Marine Corps colonels with a smattering of upper mid-level civilians from various government agencies as well as a few commanders and lieutenant colonels).

The year's studies were divided into three trimesters--National Security Decision Making (NSDM), Strategy & Policy (S&P), and Joint Military Operations (OPS). NSDM was taught using the case study method. In it we looked at burning defense issues of the times such as avoiding a "hollow" army, maintaining a dynamic and vital defense industrial base, integration of forces in joint operations, etc. S&P was devoted to studying a different war every week and analyzing the tactical and strategic strengths and weakness of the opposing sides while focussing on issues such as command & control, use of intelligence, civilian vs military goals and objectives, opponents' centers of gravity, exit strategies, and the like, taking the precepts of
Clausewitz as our basic analytic tool. NSDM and S&P accounted for 350-500 pages of reading assignments per night! (It was oft repeated by some of the students that that is only a lot of reading if you do it--I tried to do it every night). OPS was designed to satisfy the Joint Military Training required under the Goldwater-Nichols Act and was much more of a practicum of employing command skills in a joint military environment than the other two, more academic, trimesters. The year culminated in a war game with students playing various roles.

In addition to the three main courses of the respective trimesters, we also took one elective each term. My electives during NSDM and S&P were War Gaming (the design and conduct of war games) and Antisubmarine Warfare.

My year class was around 220 people. Lectures were conducted generally with the whole class together--220 folks in an auditorium, but we spent most of our class time in seminars of fourteen people each. The seminars were arranged to have representative numbers of students from each service and gender. Also during these two trimesters we had international officers, naval officers from a number of foreign countries, spread out throughout the seminars.

For me, a dyed-in-the-wool academic, the NWC was a bit of a shock. It was a really super education and my classmates and colleagues were as bright, as deep, and as interesting as my university and teaching colleagues--which did a lot to raise my respect for, and appreciation of, the men and women who lead our armed forces.

There is also a program at the War College called the Advanced Research Program which "exists to provide exceptional students in the College of Naval Warfare and College of Naval Command and Staff an opportunity to engage in funded research on a full-time basis for a trimester in lieu of taking one of the Naval War College's three core curriculum courses." I was lucky enough to have my research proposal accepted and to write a monograph on the war between Japan and Korea 1592-1598.

One of the important lessons which I brought away from my War College year was a heightened appreciation of the fact that the vast majority of our miltary leaders are much more reticent to, and mindful of, not expending the blood of our youths and our national treasure except in the most severe extremity. I think we saw that measured judgment in the action and positions of Secretary of State Powell, but not in the cases of Secretary Rumsfeld, National Security Advisor Rice, Vice President Cheney, nor the Chief Executive himself in the run up to our ill-conceived invasion of Iraq. And so we came to be bogged down in a no-win war in Iraq with no realistic exit strategy and NO weapons of mass destruction let alone ones that could be launched in less than an hour!

Doc Rock
13 Jan 2005 (in my 64th year)

Sexing Flies

2005-01-09T23:13:00.000Z

In the summer of 1964, just after I got out of the Army, I got a job as a lab assistant at the USDA, Entomological Research Division's Insects Affecting Animal and Man Research Laboratory in Gainesville, Florida--just on the south edge of the University of Florida campus.

An old curse goes, "May you live in interesting times!" Those were interesting times. I had grown up in New Jersey, attended college there for three semesters and then spent three years in the Army--one in Monterey, California, and two on a U.S. Air Force Base in Japan.

While in Japan I had heard and read about racial tensions and the civil rights movement, but that was fairly far removed from my reality. So then I was a civilian and heading off to Florida to make my way in the civilian world. I took a Greyhound bus from my folks' home in New Jersey down to Gainesville. On the way, when we stopped at a terminal in North Carolina, I became acutely aware, for the first time, for real, of "separate, but 'equal.'"

When I got to Florida, I found that the bus terminal in Gainesville was also segregated as were many places including the movie theater. I had not grown up unaware of racial tensions, fights, and discrimination in the North, but this was altogether something new to me. I had seen a modicum of discrimination and race hatred in school growing up, but the total institutionalization of race discrimination was something different for me. This is something to explore in other posts, though.

Interesting times, as I said, but I digress from sexing flies.

Flies! Flies! Flies! I was assigned to work under a principal investigator-an entomology PhD--who was doing research on Florida dog flies, AKA stable flies (Stomoxys calcitrans). These flies look very much like the common housefly (Musca domestica) except if you look closely at their mouth parts. The common housefly has a mouth that sort of hangs down in a loop and is like a sponge for sopping up wet stuff. The stable fly, on the other hand, has a sharp pointed mouth that sticks straight out like the front of some jet fighters which it uses for biting and sucking blood. The female stable fly requires a blood meal in order to lay eggs. The bite of the fly stings, but there is no lingering itch. We were doing the research because this fly had become an economic pest on the beaches of Florida, particularly around Panama City.

What we were about then, in the laboratory, was determining which products and/or processes would be the most effective for controlling this pest. One of the things we did was to test various pesticide agents on the flies to see which gave the most effective control and what were the LD-50's and LD-100's of the toxins (LD = lethal dose and LD-50 is the dosage at which 50% of the targeted species would be killed). Nothing with insects (or life!) is ever simple, however. Females, due to their natural superiority over males, appear to be several times more resistant to most agents than males of the same species.

Consequently, the duty fell to me to segregate the flies which I raised in our lab into males and females. Raising the flies was an adventure in and of itself. In the lab we had large screened cages with thousands of flies in them. One of my job was to feed the flies daily. This was done by soaking cotton balls in a honey-water mixture and sticking these on the screening of the cage. The flies would then come and feed by sticking their sharp mouths into the cotton and drinking their fill. When we wanted them to lay eggs, however, I had to go to a local slaughter house and get several gallons of cow's blood which we mixed with an anti-coagulating agent. The cages with females to lay eggs got cotton balls soaked in the cows' blood rather than honey- water so they could lay eggs. Pleasant job, eh? Once the eggs were laid, they were put in jars of growing media where the eggs turned into maggot-like creatures that ate up some of the media and then turned into pupae [ insects go through a number of different life stages]. At the end of the final larval stage, the once soft-bodied larva develops a hard outer shell and becomes a pupa. Inside the pupa, the insect begins reforming itself from the breakdown and rearrangement of larval tissue. It is growing eyes, wings, and legs. When it emerges from the pupa, it will be an adult insect. Once the pupae are ready to hatch, they were transferred to screened cages and the cycle began anew.

How does one sex stable flies? I would get into an Arctic parka (in Florida, in the summer), take a columnar screened cage about a foot in diameter with a height of about three feet filled with flies, and walk into a walk-in refrigerator and put the cage in front of a blower that blew very cold, refrigerated air through the cages--the flies would fall like flies! The flies were not dead, only asleep, just like in cold weather. I then sat at a large lab table in the refrigerator with a large magnifying glass surrounded by a fluorescent lamp. I would pick up one fly at a time gently and carefully with tweezers and inspect its abdomen for tell-tale signs of its respective sex.

I would then sort them, like Shakers coming down two stairways, and put the segregated sexes in groups of 25 in small screen cages about 2 inches in diameter and maybe a foot long with a hook on the top. These could then be used in laboratory tests to evaluate kill rates from exposure to various chemicals in various ways.

Those were interesting times while I was in a refrigerator dressed like Charlie Brown in the dead of winter in the Florida summer heat staring at fly abdomens and segregating males from females, but change was in the air--demonstrations against more insidious segregations were breaking out all over the South while we struggled to make the beaches a better place to be.

Doc Rock
11 Jan 2005 (in my 64th year)

At the Outset--Hank Snow and the Brooklyn Mind

2005-01-09T22:29:00.000Z

Country music legend Hank Snow was born in Brooklyn, Queens, Nova Scotia. Hank Snow recorded the song, "The Squid Jiggin' Ground," The vivid images of the lyrics--

Says Bobby, "The squids are on top of the water,
I just got me riggers 'bout one fathom down";
But a squid in the boat scuddered right down his throat,
And he swam like mad on the Squid Jiggin' Ground.

There's poor Uncle Louie, his whiskers are spattered
With spots of the squid juice that's flyin' around;
One poor little boy got it right in the eye,
But they don't give a darn on the Squid Jiggin' Ground.

--somehow evoke the pandemonium of my mind as I try to jig up old memories and thoughts replaying against the backdrop of the present. Moreover, since my mom's ancestors were in Brooklyn, Kings, NY, from the outset, I feel some sort of special connection with young Hank who paid his dues jiggin' squids off Nova Scotia.

So as I start to blog out this series of essayettes on whatever comes squirtin' up onto the squid jiggin' grounds of my mind, I thank Hank and Brooklyn's everywhere. If, on occasion, I write about something of passing interest to someone out there spattered with the squid ink of our times, I'd like to hear about it.

Doc Rock
9 Jan 2005 (in my my 64th year)

Squidjiggin' Grounds

The Kraken

The Lady and the Ape

More of Grandma Tess' Riddles

Grandma Tess' Riddles

Yet More Rhymes from Grandma Tess

The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes

Mali Nai Coulibaly "The Cheater"

Potatoes--Originated in Peru--Spread from Chile

Europe Had No Vanilla Before Columbus & Cortez

Europe Had No Chocolates Pre-Columbus!

What did Italians Eat Before Columbus?

The Bells

When the Frost is on the Punkin

An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you

Health Care Reform--Who Needs It?

The Owl and the Pussy Cat

The Lost Chord

The lost chord

Haniwa Figure 埴輪 （Reproduction)

Kamakura Raku Chawan 鎌倉楽茶碗

Koryo Celadon (Reproduction) 高麗靑磁器

Karatsu Yaki Fugu Plate 唐津焼河豚皿

Mashiko Ware Teacup Set 益子焼湯飲み

Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #６

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #5

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #4

Mashiko teacup 益子焼湯飲み #3

Mashiko Ware Teacups 益子焼湯飲み #1&2

Democracy

Democracy

Langston Hughes (1902-1967)

Lest We Forget! Twenty years ago!

Yeats' Crazy Jane & Jack the Journeyman

Yet Another Nursey Rhyme from Grandma Tess

More Rhymes from Grandma Tess

Nursery Rhymes from Grandma Tess

College Basketball Officiation--a Downward Spiral?

Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes . . .

For the Dismal Scientists

Mom, me, and the unknown hangman?

Dr. Otto Loewi & Me--Woods Hole, 1955

Where's the Important Job for this Man??

Eight Years at Sea with Cap'n Bush

DAR Turned Marian Anderson Away on Easter Sunday 1939

What? Is Paulson Nuts?

The Negro Speaks of Rivers

Nondairy Creamer?

Doc's Electoral College Breakdown Prediction

Persistence of Shadows from 1945

Reagan-Bush-McCain Trickle Down Economics

Why Don't YOU Do Right????

Abou ben Adam

The Stone

Punishment Central--the US of A

The Starved Beast

Huoguo Shacha 火锅沙茶 Chinese Hotpot

Pineapple shaved ice 鳳梨刨冰

Ralph Nader at his Nadir

THE MASTER

The Doctor is "In"

Twa Corbies

Raclette

Obama Voters Voted for McCain Instead?????

Samidare 五月雨

Carmel Bus

What has torture done to us? A Nation that Tortures

The Uninsured

Note to Mukasey

Audubon's Book of Prowl

Gonzo: Like Othello, He Loved Too Well

"artificial pig inseminator"

Apple Shoes

Woods Hole Memories

Playing the Piano by Ear

Mr. Potato Head, Kim Hyok-jin

Touch me in the morning . . . .

Kentucky Windage

Fire Bear

Snack! Snack!

Haniwa Figure　埴輪　（Reproduction)

Mashiko Ware Teacup　Set 　益子焼湯飲み