On Starry Nights
Mark Miner
On starry nights
you strain your neck
to see the lights
the tiny specks
so high above
and far away
the moon alone
was lit today
and all the rest
poured out their rays
in ancient past
do they still blaze?
The star I sing
that guides me north
is it alight?
does it hold forth
its eloquent expended beams
down to today?
Perhaps it seems
alive, but death
is hiding light years hence and I
will be bereft of breath
and who will see it die?
Ex Terra
Mark Miner
Have you knelt?
have you felt
recently
the earth?
The soil beneath
of which you are,
my friend,
and I, too.
It does no good
to ignore your roots
nor those of God's green weald
so pause
and press the clods
the little fibers of past lives hold it together,
then it crumbles.
Pay attention,
there's much to learn here
as it returns to dust
so will you
so will I
so do you good to it before you die
consider,
you're making your bed.
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By Mark Miner
1) She was of medium height, the kind of half-cute that can experience moments of true beauty, and she was smiling now, and it worked. It was infectious. My wife and I smiled, too, and politely chatted as she rang up our order. It was a slow night, and three other cashiers were draped across chairs behind her, laughing as one recounted a truly awful relationship, how it ended badly, and had ruined her. She was smiling. Her cohorts laughed sincerely at the appropriate times, and I was sure our cashier would join them in their circle of delight after we left. Our order was not big, but two people offered to help on the way out the doors and into the warm autumn evening.
2) Her name was Annette, and she was young and gorgeous. On this my wife and I agreed. Her svelte black pants, blue-and-red uniform polo, and cap, could not be more perfectly arranged. You could see her smile, like a road flare, lighting up the drive-thru lane. The whole experience was dreamlike and inchoate, tied together only by a cheerful voice, that brilliant smile, and Annette's true and burning desire to get each and every person exactly the food they wanted, as quickly as her dear soul could. And she succeeded. On all levels, in all ways, Annette, the impossibly, refreshingly sweet carhop, succeeded in life.
3) He was enormous. Not overly fat, but wide, like a tugboat. He could very well have had a career as a tugboat, if he could have walked on water. He greeted my wife as "young lady", which might have been correct. He greeted me as "young man", which was not. He greeted the middle-aged man behind me as "young man", which was entirely delightful. His pleasure in life, as far as I could tell, consisted in making sandwiches. He wanted to know you, what you liked, what you disliked, and why. He made jokes, which were funny even if they weren't. He made friends with you over the course of a minute, and you valued him as a friend and confidant for the next two, at which time he would bid you a cheerful farewell, and you knew that you and he would be happy the next time you met.
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1) May God give peace to the families, and justice to the perpetrator.
2) Brava to the policewoman who put a stop to it, may she recover quickly.
3) At least 43 rounds were fired, reportedly from 2 handguns, which requires planning and some dexterity.
4) He was a Major, obviously had been in for a while, and had not considered how to deal with a deployment to one of the nations we've been operating in for 6 years?
5) Any suggestion that "He was driven to this by an uncaring Army" is nonsense. If you want to get out of a deployment and you have no respect for life, attempt suicide. You can even deliberately botch it. You will not be going overseas after that.
Conclusion: This was a premeditated, sociopathic act. Speculation about cause or blame has very little place in such a situation.
Application: Spare a prayer for the families. Execute the perp, if he lives.
That is all.
MJM
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New Advocacy Group Claims Birthers "Miss the Obvious"
PHOENIX - (AP)
A group of irate citizens calling themselves "Existers" are causing a stir by claiming that President Obama simply does not exist. Their arguments draw from portions of the "Birther" campaign, The Emperor's New Clothes, and the award of a Nobel Peace Prize. Karen Clatchner, a self-described "hard-core exister", sums up their views: "Look, if he wasn't born, he can't be real! And all through the campaign, all you heard was 'unbelievable', 'he's just out of sight', and that he was 'a dream come true'. All we're saying is this: it never came true." When asked how the Nobel Prize figured into the group's arguments, Ms. Clatchner cocked her head, blew a raspberry, and said "So the Swedes recognized him? Honestly? You think that helps?"
The reaction of Americans has been mixed. A telephone survey found that 94% of Americans had never seen the President except on TV, and 90% of respondents acknowledged that they don't always believe the TV. Of the 6% who claimed to have seen the President, all admitted "it was from a long way away", and that they were "very excited at the time". Psychologists universally acknowledge the role that excitement can play in causing humans to accept erroneous information, such as "After-Thanksgiving Sales".
The President could not be reached for comment.
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From a trip this past winter, not sure why I did not post it before.
Impressions on Boston and San Francisco
By Mark Miner
Chipped enamel lays bare the cold cast metal below
ragged edge on a banister
chiseled by carelessness
It is Boston in February
and the world is chilled
and snow is coming.
Spooning on the stoop of a rundown house
street man and street woman
Adam and Eve in the junkyard of Eden
waiting for the cool of the day to talk with God
the Pacific salts the air to perfection
as I fast-walk past this primeval pair
enjoying a fine evening in San Francisco.
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By Mark Miner, upon return from his vacation.
See the hills swoop
sculpted by wind and God
now rolling, now plunging
wallows and ridges
cottonwood skyscrapers
greedily guzzling from lazy streams that don't mind in the least
That kind of country don't mind in the least
Come outside
relish the sun
be permeated by the prairie wind
let it flow between your molecules
until you are fresh
hung out on God's clothesline
to air out
in Wyoming
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By Mark Miner
Y'all listen here, people,
Got a story to tell,
'Bout how love of money,
Is a ticket to hell.
Well I got the blues,
Yeah I got the blues,
I got the fluorescent-cold-office-corporate-America-blues.
Oh yeah.
You young whippersnappers,
You looking so fine,
Dressed up for your interview,
At the end of the line.
Oh you'll get the blues,
Like I got the blues,
You'll get the worked-so-hard-learned-so-much-just-to-sit-in-a-cube blues.
That's right.
You wizened old creatures,
With your sweaters and tea,
You spent your whole life,
For this cold company.
Now you got the blues
Just like I got the blues
You got the gave-your-health-to-get-wealth-and-a-retirement blues
Mm-hmm
We all got the blues
The corporate blues
We got the sunny-day-stuck-inside-wish-I-could-go-and-play blues
So bad.
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Ten Things Engineers Cannot Live Without, and Why
A list, by Mark Miner
10) Sweater. Because offices are inordinately cold. Why must we have numb hands?
9) Calipers. They afford a lot of fun measuring your tape dispenser, phone handset, monitor, mouse, and occasionally some useful parts.
8) MS Paint. Because they (or you) were too cheap to get a real graphics program, and you have a presentation in an hour.
7) 5 of each writing implement. Because you will lose at least 3 of them.
6) Whiteboard. A picture's worth a thousand words, and you can doodle on it.
5) Set of files. Because you screwed up the design, but now you're out of money and that hole has to line up. Get ready for sore hands.
4) Hammer. Because you REALLY screwed up this time. Seriously, don't you have calipers?
3) Lunch. Do you need to ask?
2) Other engineers. Because you have to sneer at the idiocy of SOMEBODY.
1) Coffee & mug. Almost doesn't deserve to be articulated, it's so fundamental. On the other hand, you'd never do work before noon without it.
PS- Not sure why I degenerated to list making. I'll just say it's a low-brainspace way of easing back into the blog. We'll see.
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By Mark Miner
Imagine traveling
near the speed of light
where time is so different
for others, not for you.
Imagine the event horizon
swirling like a cosmic whirlpool
and space is so strange
all around you, and within.
Imagine the birth of a star
all the light you cannot see
the majesty of silent explosions
the flung debris, everywhere.
Imagine colliding
with another particle
your joy and release
brand new particles! Stillborn.
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WASHINGTON, D.C.
Obama Embraces Economic Dadaism
"Why not?" is common reaction
In the face of yet another unprecedented financial crisis, the sitting president of the United States has at last resorted to Dadaism to sort out the troubles. When asked about his new policy, Mr. Obama danced and lilted: "Ungleddodle bunglemee, maybe try this one, you see? Gebbendodder teeter-totter rescue the economy!" The president continued to gibber until the press withdrew quietly from the room.
Economists and the literati are divided on the new approach. Stephen Harrington, a professor of 20th century literature at Colombia, said "the president's new tack squares well with his concern over a 'lost generation', and has a great deal of historical precedent from the Europeans." The economics department of Colombia refused comment, as they had pasted their lips together and were assembling a colossus of books and papers held together with glue.
Treasury secretary Timothy Geithner demonstrated his solidarity with the President by sitting naked in the Rose Garden, covered head to toe in body paint, and smoking two cigarettes through his nose. When asked for comment, he screeched "smoking loon!" repeatedly for thirty seconds, then fell silent and refused to discuss further plans. Later this evening, the cabinet is expected to put on a silent play, going into detail on the new rescue plans via the media of pantomime and dance.
Reaction on Wall Street has been mixed. Henry Mitchell, a trader on the NYSE, said that he "couldn't figure out what they were up to before, so damned if this makes any difference." Oswald Harvery, a manager at Dow Jones, reported he was "thrilled that we're finally getting a consistent message from Washington."
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