I'm trying to compose a poem in memory of September 11th, 2001.

Trying to convey the shock, horror, and disbelief of that day is almost impossible. And, I wasn't there!! Just watching it on television was traumatic. (Yes, I can't watch a lot of what passes for programming these days... it's simply too violent for me. But that's another post.)

This is one time that being telepathic would be useful. The emotions that rise within me are turbulent & overwhelming, even today. I don't feel that I have fully processed what happened.

The constant media coverage of the event was not a substitute for spending time alone, thinking about what happened, and what it means to us, both as individuals, and as a nation. I know, that today, trying to tap into my feelings about it, I remember the CEO of a firm on the upper floors breaking down on national television from the loss of so many employees, coworkers and friends.

This feels like a wound that only scabbed over, and never fully healed. And now, in trying to write this poem, I've caused this wound to begin bleeding. If I try to think about it, I start crying.

On some level, I know that I *have* to think about it, to put it behind me. But it has changed everything... physical , personal, political, and emotional landscapes are in some ways, no longer recognizable. Wiped as clean as Ground Zero.

I was born and raised in NYC, and only in the past several years relocated to South Carolina. So, seeing the carnage of places that I used to travel, hang out at, and work near, brings back memories.

I remember walking through the open space in front of the buildings, and going up to the observation tower, and shopping in the mall under the buildings. The towers were such a part of life in NYC, even the subways ran through there... I remember calling everyone that I had numbers for, because if they lived in NYC, they could have been there when it happened.

My best friend works in Jersey City, and lives in Brooklyn. And she saw the second plane crash into the tower. Thank heaven that she had enough sense to go through upper Manhattan to go home. Even though it took her over eight hours to get home, she was ok. So were my parents, and my husband. Everyone that I could get in touch with was okay, but I still felt that all those people who died were connected to me... it still hurts to think about it.

I am shaken by the strength of my feelings about this, after so many years have passed.

[Taking a deep breath] I'm getting chest pains... Thank heavens I have a few days to work on this poem. I don't know how professional writers do this. Separate their feelings from what they have to write about, I mean. Well, I'll write more blive, and maybe later I can do this without crying.

The weather has been very hot lately, but it is beginning to cool off... down in the low 90s, lol!

But the sky is just as beautiful as it is in the springtime. Sometimes, I just look up at the sky, and all those beautiful clouds, and I think that I'm going to burst with happiness.

South Carolina really agrees with me. It is warm and beautiful, with lots of greenery and trees, and there is lots of space to simply _be_, without having to rush about.

I have my camera now, so I'll be taking some pictures soon of sunrises and sunsets from my bedroom. It's a fantastic thing, to have your master bedroom have windows on the east *and* the west side of the house. No matter what time of year it is, there's always plenty of light during the day (if I could only do something about those shorter days, lol!)... Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful home!!

From my local weekly newspaper, The People- Sentinel:

Wednesday, September 5, 2007 6:15 PM EDT

There's no flashy advertising campaign on this particular cause, no
fancy lobbying group backing it, no slick public service announcements
fronted by the celebrity du jour.

No, this is strictly a grassroots effort.

The anonymous e-mail urging support for this cause had been forwarded
so many times its electrons were probably exhausted.

What is this cause, this effort, this Big Purpose?

Fly the American flag.

Specifically, fly Old Glory on Tuesday, Sept. 11 if you aren't already
flying the flag every day (which isn't a bad idea).

It's been six years since we as a nation stood transfixed by the awful
images frozen on our front pages or unfolding on our television
screens.

The scenes come to our minds with an uneasy quickness: World Trade
Center office workers leaping to a quicker death than face a burning
one within the crippled Twin Towers. New Yorkers, faces scarred in
panic, outrunning the dust clouds of debris and ash as the Towers fold
inward on themselves and collapse. The grim faces of firefighters
finding too many bodies and many of them ones they served beside only
days earlier.

It's been six years since that watershed day.

Yet the images remain, along with the memories, the pain, the shock
and the disbelief at this national tragedy.

But with the uneasy images come ones of pride: The tired and tight
faces of firefighters (again) and emergency workers at Ground Zero as
they work around the clock. Americans lining up to give blood (another
perennial good idea).

One more image from that time six years ago - flags, many flags,
flying in unison with yellow ribbons.

Let's honor them again and show our colors on Sept. 11.

Unfurl a flag on that day of all days.


Link

This is so cool! Start treating this behavior like the stupidness that it is!! Article follows:
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Saturday May 26th the VNN Vanguard Nazi/KKK group attempted to host a hate rally to try to take advantage of the brutal murder of a white couple for media and recruitment purposes.

Unfortunately for them the 100th ARA (Anti Racist Action) clown block came and handed them their a*ses by making them appear like the a*ses they were.

Alex Linder the founder of VNN and the lead organizer of the rally kicked off events by rushing the clowns in a fit of rage, and was promptly arrested by 4 Knoxville police officers who dropped him to the ground when he resisted and dragged him off past the red shiny shoes of the clowns.

"White Power!" the Nazi's shouted, "White Flour?" the clowns yelled back running in circles throwing flour in the air and raising separate letters which spelt "White Flour".

"White Power!" the Nazi's angrily shouted once more, "White flowers?" the clowns cheers and threw white flowers in the air and danced about merrily.

"White Power!" the Nazi's tried once again in a doomed and somewhat funny attempt to clarify their message, "ohhhhhh!" the clowns yelled "Tight Shower!" and held a solar shower in the air and all tried to crowd under to get clean as per the Klan's directions.

At this point several of the Nazi's and Klan members began clutching their hearts as if they were about to have a heart attack. Their beady eyes bulged, and the veins in their tiny narrow foreheads beat in rage. One last time they screamed "White Power!"

The clown women thought they finally understood what the Klan was trying to say. "Ohhhhh?" the women clowns said. "Now we understand?", "WIFE POWER!" they lifted the letters up in the air, grabbed the nearest male clowns and lifted them in their arms and ran about merrily chanting "WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER! WIFE POWER!"

It was at this point that several observers reported seeing several Klan members heads exploding in rage and they stopped trying to explain to the clowns what they wanted.

Apparently the clowns fundamentally misunderstood the nature of the rally, they believed it was a clown rally and came in force to support their pointy hated brethren. To their dismay, despite their best jokes and stunts and pratfalls the Nazis and Klan refused to laugh, and indeed became enraged at the clowns misunderstanding and constant attempts to interpret the clowns instruction.

The clowns on the other hand had a great time and thought the Nazis were the funniest thing they had ever seen and the loud laughter of over 100 counter protesters greeted every attempt of the Nazis and Klan to get their message out, whatever that was.

Many of the local Knoxvillians that came to counter demonstrate had no illusions about why these out of state bad clowns with swastikas were doing in their town.

"KKK YOU CAN'T HIDE, WE CHARGE YOU WITH GENOCIDE!"

"GAY, STRAIGHT, BLACK, WHITE ONE STRUGGLE ONE FIGHT!"

"U.G.L.Y. KLAN YOU AIN'T GOT NO ALIBI, YOU UGLY, YOU UGLY"

Were just a few of the chants that the non clown counter protesters rained down upon the Nazis. The clowns interacted with the non clown protesters with glee and even participated in a chant or two, though apparently with no idea that the Nazis were indeed not clowns thinking it was just part of the show.

In the end the 20 or so sad VNNers left with their tails between their legs. At this point over 150 counter demonstraters were present. The clowns seeing how dejected and sad the Nazi's looked began singing to cheer them up.

"hey hey hey hey, ho ho ho ho-good bye, good bye" everyone sang waving their arms in the air in unison.

After the VNNers left in their shiny SUVs to go back to Alabama and all the other states that they were from the clowns and counter demonstrators began to march out of the area chanting 'WHOSE STREETS? OUR STREETS!"

But the cops stopped the clowns and counter protestors. "Hey, do you want an escort" an African-American police officer on a motorcycle asked. "Yes" a clown replied. "We are walking to Market Square in the center of town to celebrate."

The police officers got in front of the now anti racist parade and blocked the entire road for the march through the heart of Knoxville. An event called imagination station was taking place and over 15,000 thousand students and their parents were in town that weekend. Many of them cheered as the clowns, Knoxvillians and counter protestors marched through the heart of Knoxville singing and laughing at the end of the Nazi's first attempt at having a rally in Knoxville.

Might I add what a beautiful thing it is to read that the police were cooperating with the anti-racist public, and not facilitating the racists? Much still needs to be done in places like TN, but clearly, much has already been accomplished!

Link

"We should try never to let our happy frame of mind be disturbed. Whether we are suffering at present or have suffered in the past, there is no reason to be unhappy. If we can remedy it, why be unhappy? And if we cannot, what use is there being depressed about it? That just adds unhappiness and does no good at all." - Dalai Lama

Been here, and done this!! LaVeda

I'm reprinting the auction here before Ebay takes it down.

I'm selling a bunch of Pokemon cards. Why? Because my kids sneaked
them into my shopping cart while at the grocery store and I ended up
buying them because I didn't notice they were there until we got home.
How could I have possibly not noticed they were in my cart, you ask?
Let me explain.

You haven't lived until you've gone grocery shopping with six kids in
tow. I would rather swim, covered in bait, through the English
Channel, be a contestant on Fear Factor when they're having pig brains
for lunch, or do fourth grade math than to take my six kids to the
grocery store. Because I absolutely detest grocery shopping, I tend to
put it off as long as possible. There comes a time, however, when
you're peering into your fridge and thinking, 'Hmmm, what can I make
with ketchup, Italian dressing, and half an onion,' that you decide
you cannot avoid going to the grocery store any longer. Before
beginning this most treacherous mission, I gather all the kids
together and give them "The Lecture".

"The Lecture" goes like this…
MOM: "We have to go to the grocery store."
KIDS: "Whine whine whine whine whine."
MOM: "Hey, I don't want to go either, but it's either that or we're
eating cream of onion-ketchup soup and drinking Italian dressing for
dinner tonight."
KIDS: "Whine whine whine whine whine."
MOM: "Now here are the rules: do not ask me for anything, do not poke
the packages of meat in the butcher section, do not test the laws of
physics and try to take out the bottom can in the pyramid shaped
display, do not play baseball with oranges in the produce section, and
most importantly, do not try to leave your brother at the store.
Again."

OK, the kids have been briefed. Time to go.

Once at the store, we grab not one, but two shopping carts. I wear the
baby in a sling and the two little children sit in the carts while I
push one cart and my oldest son pushes the other one. My oldest
daughter is not allowed to push a cart. Ever. Why? Because the last
time I let her push the cart, she smashed into my ankles so many
times, my feet had to be amputated by the end of our shopping trip.
This is not a good thing. You try running after a toddler with no feet
sometime.

At this point, a woman looks at our two carts and asks me, "Are they
all yours?" I answer good naturedly, "Yep!

"Oh my, you have your hands full."

"Yes, I do, but it's fun!" I say smiling. I've heard all this before.
In fact, I hear it every time I go anywhere with my brood.

We begin in the produce section where all these wonderfully,
artistically arranged pyramids of fruit stand. There is something so
irresistibly appealing about the apple on the bottom of the pile, that
a child cannot help but try to touch it. Much like a bug to a zapper,
the child is drawn to this piece of fruit. I turn around to the sounds
of apples cascading down the display and onto the floor. Like Indiana
Jones, there stands my son holding the all-consuming treasure that he
just HAD to get and gazing at me with this dumbfounded look as if to
say, "Did you see that??? Wow! I never thought that would happen!"

I give the offending child an exasperated sigh and say, "Didn't I tell
you, before we left, that I didn't want you taking stuff from the
bottom of the pile???"

"No. You said that you didn't want us to take a can from the bottom of
the pile. You didn't say anything about apples."

With superhuman effort, I resist the urge to send my child to the moon
and instead focus on the positive - my child actually listened to me
and remembered what I said!!! I make a mental note to be a little more
specific the next time I give the kids The Grocery Store Lecture.

A little old man looks at all of us and says, "Are all of those your kids?"

Thinking about the apple incident, I reply, "Nope. They just started
following me. I've never seen them before in my life."

OK, now onto the bakery section where everything smells so good, I'm
tempted to fill my cart with cookies and call it a day. Being on a
perpetual diet, I try to hurry past the assortment of pies, cakes,
breads, and pastries that have my children drooling. At this point the
chorus of "Can we gets" begins.

"Can we get donuts?"
"No."
"Can we get cupcakes?"
"No."
"Can we get muffins?"
"No."
"Can we get pie?"
"No."

You'd think they'd catch on by this point, but no, they're just getting started.

In the bakery, they're giving away free samples of coffee cake and of
course, my kids all take one. The toddler decides he doesn't like it
and proceeds to spit it out in my hand. (That's what moms do. We put
our hands in front of our children's mouths so they can spit stuff
into them. We'd rather carry around a handful of chewed up coffee
cake, than to have the child spit it out onto the floor. I'm not sure
why this is, but ask any mom and she'll tell you the same.) Of course,
there's no garbage can around, so I continue shopping one-handed while
searching for someplace to dispose of the regurgitated mess in my
hand.

In the meat department, a mother with one small baby asks me, "Wow!
Are all six yours?"
I answer her, "Yes, but I'm thinking of selling a couple of them."

(Still searching for a garbage can at this point.)

Ok, after the meat department, my kids' attention spans are spent.
They're done shopping at this point, but we aren't even halfway
through the store. This is about the time they like to start having
shopping cart races. And who may I thank for teaching them this fun
pastime? My seventh "child", also known as my husband. While I'm
picking out loaves of bread, the kids are running down the aisle
behind the carts in an effort to get us kicked out of the store. I put
to stop to that just as my son is about to crash head on into a giant
cardboard cut-out of a Keebler elf stacked with packages of cookies.

Ah! Yes! I find a small trash can by the coffee machine in the cereal
aisle and finally dump out the squishy contents of my hand. After
standing in the cereal aisle for an hour and a half while the kids
perused the various cereals, comparing the marshmallow and cheap,
plastic toy content of each box, I broke down and let them each pick
out a box. At any given time, we have twenty open boxes of cereal in
my house.

As this is going on, my toddler is playing Houdini and maneuvering his
little body out of the seat belt in an attempt to stand up in the
cart. I'm amazed the kid made it to his second birthday without
suffering a brain damaging head injury. In between trying to flip
himself out of the cart, he sucks on the metal bars of the shopping
cart. Mmmm, can you say "influenza"?

The shopping trip continues much like this. I break up fights between
the kids now and then and stoop down to pick up items that the toddler
has flung out of the cart. I desperately try to get everything on my
list without adding too many other goodies to the carts.

Somehow I manage to complete my shopping in under four hours and head
for the check-outs where my kids start in on a chorus of, "Can we have
candy?" What evil minded person decided it would be a good idea to put
a display of candy in the check-out lanes, right at a child's eye
level? Obviously someone who has never been shopping with children.

As I unload the carts, I notice many extra items that my kids have
sneaked in the carts unbeknownst to me. I remove a box of Twinkies, a
package of cupcakes, a bag of candy, and a can of cat food (we don't
even have a cat!). I somehow missed the box of Pokemon cards however
and ended up purchasing them unbeknownst to me. As I pay for my
purchases, the clerk looks at me, indicates my kids, and asks, "Are
they all yours?"

Frustrated, exhausted from my trip, sick to my stomach from writing
out a check for $289.53, dreading unloading all the groceries and
putting them away and tired of hearing that question, I look at the
clerk and answer her in my most sarcastic voice, "No. They're not
mine. I just go around the neighborhood gathering up kids to take to
the grocery store because it's so much more fun that way."

So, up for auction is an opened (they ripped open the box on the way
home from the store) package of Pokemon cards. There are 44 cards
total. They're in perfect condition, as I took them away from the
kiddos as soon as we got home from the store. Many of them say
"Energy". I tried carrying them around with me, but they didn't work.
I definitely didn't have any more energy than usual. One of them is
shiny. There are a few creature-like things on many of them. One is
called Pupitar. Hee hee hee Pupitar! (Oh no! My kids' sense of humor
is rubbing off on me!) Anyway, I don't think there's anything special
about any of these cards, but I'm very much not an authority on
Pokemon cards. I just know that I'm not letting my kids keep these as
a reward for their sneakiness.

Shipping is FREE on this item. Insurance is optional, but once I drop
the package at the post office, it is no longer my responsibility. For
example, if my son decides to pour a bottle of glue into the envelope,
or my daughter spills a glass of juice on the package, that's my
responsibility and I will fully refund your money. If, however, I take
the envelope to the post office and a disgruntled mail carrier sets
fire to it, a pack of wild dogs rip into it, or a mail sorting machine
shreds it, it's out of my hands, so you may want to add insurance. I
will leave feedback for you as soon as I've received your payment. I
will be happy to combine shipping on multiple items won within three
days. This comes from a smoke-free, pet-free, child-filled home.
Please ask me any questions before placing your bid. Happy bidding! :)

Link

Vindicated at last!!

Link

Sometimes, we just need to keep the line between fiction and real life firmly demarcated!! (there's a new word for ya, lol!!)

UAV swarms

The skies above future battlefields are likely to be filled with unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs) monitoring the action and homing in on enemy targets. But how do you control a sky full of UAVs, particularly when communications links with the ground are patchy?

Perhaps you don't have to. Yossi Ben-Asher and colleagues at the Technion-Israel Institute of Technology in Haifa, Israel, say UAVs can control themselves instead.

Their idea is for a swarm of UAVs to create its own communications network and swap the information needed to calculate flight paths and avoid collisions. This not only eliminates the need for constant communication with the ground, it can also be used to make the aircraft swarm together, like a flock of birds.

This swarming behaviour can then be used to mount more effective attacks, the team says. The UAVs could monitor a target and decide for themselves how best to attack it, based on the position of each aircraft and the weapons it is carrying.

The patent application stops short of explaining how the final decision to engage is taken. Presumably somebody on the ground has to give the go-ahead. But how long before technology like this makes the military think it can dispense with even this step?

No, I'm not talking about life on Capitol Hill !!

Link

In one of history's more absurd acts of totalitarianism, China has banned Buddhist monks in Tibet from reincarnating without government permission.

Derivative article