Sun-n-Steeple

2012-01-30T08:45:00.001-08:00

2012-01-28T04:29:00.000-08:00

that's not rain, that's pain: 20120126 CWA- United NY Joint Action on Verizon Tax Evasion

2012-01-26T17:11:00.000-08:00

2012-01-24T19:51:00.000-08:00

2012-01-22T03:23:00.000-08:00

20120116 MLK Rally in support of CableVision Unionizing

2012-01-21T02:57:00.000-08:00

20120116 MLK Rally in support of CableVision Unionizing

by O'Dasor De, LAM

{click on image to enlarge}

2012-01-18T05:32:00.001-08:00

Patricio by O'dasor De, LAM

2012-01-17T23:21:00.000-08:00

Patricio

by O'dasor De, LAM

{click image to enlarge}

Gotta Have Hope by O'Dasor De, LAM

2012-01-04T06:35:00.000-08:00

Gotta Have Hope
by O'Dasor De, LAM
{click on image to enlarge}

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La Madelina by O'Dasor De, LAM

2012-01-03T02:58:00.000-08:00

La Madelina

by O'Dasor De, LAM

{click on image to enlarge it.}

.ero

Edelmira by O'Dasor De, LAM

2012-01-02T03:17:00.000-08:00

Edelmira
by O'Dasor De, LAM
{click on image to enlarge}

20111201 Labor March for Jobs and Fairness by O'Dasor De, LAM

2012-01-01T07:37:00.000-08:00

20111201 Labor March for Jobs and Fairness

by O'Dasor De, LAM

{click image to enlarge}

Trickle Treat by O'Dasor De, LAM

2011-12-31T03:15:00.000-08:00

Trickle Treat
by O'Dasor De, LAM
{click to enlarge image}

Christmas Tree 2011

2011-12-18T20:44:00.000-08:00

Christmas Tree 2011

by O'Dasor De, LAM

click to enlarge

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All Day, All Week, OWS

2011-11-19T11:44:00.000-08:00

click to enlarge,

image by O'Dasor, De, LAM

CWA 1180

2011-09-17T16:13:00.000-07:00

Yellow Smile

2011-09-15T11:26:00.000-07:00

Yellow Smile
By O'Dasor De, LAM

Sun-n-Steeple

2011-01-25T22:12:00.000-08:00

The Tree by Anne Kingsmill Finch

Fair tree! for thy delightful shade

'Tis just that some return be made;

Sure some return is due from me

To thy cool shadows, and to thee.

When thou to birds dost shelter give,

Thou music dost from them receive;

If travellers beneath thee stay

Till storms have worn themselves away,

That time in praising thee they spend

And thy protecting pow'r commend.

The shepherd here, from scorching freed,

Tunes to thy dancing leaves his reed;

Whilst his lov'd nymph, in thanks, bestows

Her flow'ry chaplets on thy boughs.

Shall I then only silent be,

And no return be made by me?

No; let this wish upon thee wait,

And still to flourish be thy fate.

To future ages may'st thou stand

Untouch'd by the rash workman's hand,

Till that large stock of sap is spent,

Which gives thy summer's ornament;

Till the fierce winds, that vainly strive

To shock thy greatness whilst alive,

Shall on thy lifeless hour attend,

Prevent the axe, and grace thy end;

Their scatter'd strength together call

And to the clouds proclaim thy fall;

Who then their ev'ning dews may spare

When thou no longer art their care,

But shalt, like ancient heroes, burn,

And some bright hearth be made thy urn.

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via Famous Poets and Poems!

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sun&steeple

2010-11-04T06:38:00.000-07:00

.ero

sun&steeple

2010-11-02T06:36:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-11-01T06:32:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-31T06:30:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-30T06:27:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-29T06:25:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-28T06:23:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-27T06:21:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-26T06:19:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-25T06:18:00.000-07:00

sun&steeple

2010-10-24T06:18:00.000-07:00

sun and steeple

2010-05-27T05:32:00.000-07:00

The Human Tree by G. K. Chesterton

Many have Earth's lovers been,
Tried in seas and wars, I ween;
Yet the mightiest have I seen:
Yea, the best saw I.
One that in a field alone
Stood up stiller than a stone
Lest a moth should fly.

Birds had nested in his hair,
On his shoon were mosses rare,
Insect empires flourished there,
Worms in ancient wars;
But his eyes burn like a glass,
Hearing a great sea of grass
Roar towards the stars.

From them to the human tree
Rose a cry continually:
`Thou art still, our Father, we
Fain would have thee nod.
Make the skies as blood below thee,
Though thou slay us, we shall know thee.
Answer us, O God!

`Show thine ancient fame and thunder,
Split the stillness once asunder,
Lest we whisper, lest we wonder
Art thou there at all?'
But I saw him there alone,
Standing stiller than a stone
Lest a moth should fall.

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via Famous Poets and Poems!

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sunNsteeple

2010-05-26T05:15:00.000-07:00

One White Tree by J. R. R. Tolkien

Tall ships and tall kings
Three times three.
What brought they from the foundered land
Over the flowing sea?
Seven stars and seven stones
And one white tree.

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via Famous Poets and Poems!

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sunNsteeple

2010-05-25T17:02:00.000-07:00

sunNsteeple

2010-05-19T16:44:00.000-07:00

sunNsteeple

2010-05-13T16:30:00.000-07:00

"Did you ever want to set someone's head on fire, just to see what it looked like? Did you ever stand in the street and think to yourself, I could make that nun go blind just by giving her a kiss? Did you ever lay out plans for stitching babies and stray cats into a Perfect New Human? Did you ever stand naked surrounded by people who want your gleaming sperm, squirting frankincense, soma and testosterone from every pore? If so, then you're the bastard who stole my drugs Friday night. And I'll find you. Oh, yes."
— Warren Ellis (Transmetropolitan Vol. 5: Lonely City)

Sun and Steeple

2010-05-07T08:22:00.000-07:00

"There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.
There is another theory which states that this has already happened."
— Douglas Adams (The Restaurant at the End of the Universe)

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sun-n-steeple

2010-05-01T08:15:00.000-07:00

The Wind Is Without There And Howls In The Trees by Robert Louis Stevenson

THE wind is without there and howls in the trees,
And the rain-flurries drum on the glass:
Alone by the fireside with elbows on knees
I can number the hours as they pass.
Yet now, when to cheer me the crickets begin,
And my pipe is just happily lit,
Believe me, my friend, tho' the evening draws in,
That not all uncontested I sit.

Alone, did I say? O no, nowise alone
With the Past sitting warm on my knee,
To gossip of days that are over and gone,
But still charming to her and to me.
With much to be glad of and much to deplore,
Yet, as these days with those we compare,
Believe me, my friend, tho' the sorrows seem more
They are somehow more easy to bear.

And thou, faded Future, uncertain and frail,
As I cherish thy light in each draught,
His lamp is not more to the miner - their sail
Is not more to the crew on the raft.
For Hope can make feeble ones earnest and brave,
And, as forth thro' the years I look on,
Believe me, my friend, between this and the grave,
I see wonderful things to be done.

To do or to try; and, believe me, my friend,
If the call should come early for me,
I can leave these foundations uprooted, and tend
For some new city over the sea.
To do or to try; and if failure be mine,
And if Fortune go cross to my plan,
Believe me, my friend, tho' I mourn the design
I shall never lament for the man.

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via Famous Poets and Poems!

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sunandsteeple

2010-03-21T08:12:00.000-07:00

Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees by William Shakespeare

Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.

Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.

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via Famous Poets and Poems!

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sunandsteeple

2010-03-16T10:23:00.000-07:00

2010-03-15T10:20:00.000-07:00

"But remember what we do on this program:

We illustrate absurdity by being absurd."
~~Rush Limbaugh~~

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sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-03-14T10:11:00.000-07:00

Pi is transcendental.

The endless number cannot be expressed by any algebraic equation.
No pattern has been found in its digits,
Yet it cannot be proven in a finite amount of time
That no pattern exists in an infinite number of digits.

Pi goes beyond our reality.

The nonexistence of humans would not preclude the existence of pi.

For the circle will always exist
In the shape and orbit of a planet,
In the path of a wave.

And where there is a circle, there is pi
Intrinsically embedded in it.

Pi is mysterious;
It evades all attempts of capture.

It is a line of digits like an endless snake

That you can keep pulling at without ever reaching its tail.

Pi is perfect;
Each seemingly random digit is exactly where it belongs.

Whether a circle is as big as the universe,
Or as small as a quark,
Its diameter fits around its boundary exactly pi times.

Because pi is found in waves, every color, every sound is an expression of pi.

Because pi is found in circles, the moon, the sun,
Every planet, and every star is an expression of pi.

Because pi is found in each atom, pi is present in all physical sensation.

Pi is absolute beauty.

~~Eve Andersson~~

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sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-03-03T10:06:00.000-08:00

The Fish

I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn't fight.

He hadn't fought at all.

He hung a grunting weight,
battered and venerable
and homely. Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.

He was speckled and barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down.

While his gills were breathing in
the terrible oxygen
--the frightening gills,
fresh and crisp with blood,
that can cut so badly--
I thought of the coarse white flesh
packed in like feathers,
the big bones and the little bones,
the dramatic reds and blacks
of his shiny entrails,
and the pink swim-bladder
like a big peony.

I looked into his eyes
which were far larger than mine
but shallower, and yellowed,
the irises backed and packed
with tarnished tinfoil
seen through the lenses
of old scratched isinglass.

They shifted a little, but not
to return my stare.

--It was more like the tipping
of an object toward the light.

I admired his sullen face,
the mechanism of his jaw,
and then I saw
that from his lower lip
--if you could call it a lip
grim, wet, and weaponlike,
hung five old pieces of fish-line,
or four and a wire leader
with the swivel still attached,
with all their five big hooks
grown firmly in his mouth.

A green line, frayed at the end
where he broke it, two heavier lines,
and a fine black thread
still crimped from the strain and snap
when it broke and he got away.

Like medals with their ribbons
frayed and wavering,
a five-haired beard of wisdom
trailing from his aching jaw.

I stared and stared
and victory filled up
the little rented boat,
from the pool of bilge
where oil had spread a rainbow
around the rusted engine
to the bailer rusted orange,
the sun-cracked thwarts,
the oarlocks on their strings,
the gunnels--until everything
was rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!

And I let the fish go.

~~Elizabeth Bishop~~

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sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-03-02T10:03:00.000-08:00

sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-03-01T09:58:00.000-08:00

Sun-n-Steeple

2010-02-20T06:18:00.000-08:00

via
Bartlby's

James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938). The Book of American Negro Poetry. 1922.

A Butterfly in Church
~~ George Marion McClellan

WHAT dost thou here, thou shining, sinless thing,
With many colored hues and shapely wing?
Why quit the open field and summer air
To flutter here? Thou hast no need of prayer.

’Tis meet that we, who this great structure built,
Should come to be redeemed and washed from guilt,
For we this gilded edifice within
Are come, with erring hearts and stains of sin.

But thou art free from guilt as God on high;
Go, seek the blooming waste and open sky,
And leave us here our secret woes to bear,
Confessionals and agonies of prayer.

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Sun-n-Steeple

2010-02-19T06:13:00.000-08:00

sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-02-17T05:06:00.000-08:00

[click to enlarge]
{sUNnsTEEPLE by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"Outside of a dog,
a book is man's best friend.
Inside of a dog it's too dark to read."
~~ Groucho Marx (The Essential Groucho)~~

sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-02-16T05:02:00.000-08:00

sUNnsTEEPLE

2010-02-13T04:56:00.000-08:00

sun and steeple

2010-01-22T22:52:00.000-08:00

[click to enlarge]
{sun and steeple by O'Dasor De, LAM}

First they came for the communists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a communist;
Then they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a socialist;
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a trade unionist;
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
because I was not a Jew;
Then they came for me--
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

~~ Pastor Martin Niemöller

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sun-n-steeple

2009-12-26T04:32:00.000-08:00

[click to enlarge]
{sun-n-steeple by O'Dasor De, LAM}

Steve Martin
"A day without sunshine is like, you know, night."
— Steve Martin

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.and we thank Him for our food
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steepleandsun

2009-12-05T20:31:00.000-08:00

steepleandsun

2009-12-05T20:26:00.000-08:00

sun&steeple

2009-12-05T20:21:00.000-08:00

"In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."
— Douglas Adams (The Restaurant at the End of the Universe)

2009-11-26T01:02:00.000-08:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

urban sprawl

n.
The unplanned, uncontrolled spreading of urban development into areas adjoining the edge of a city.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

via
The Free Dictionary
.O'Dasor De
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sun-n-steeple

2009-11-23T03:48:00.000-08:00

sub-n-steeple

2009-11-22T07:02:00.000-08:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

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Earl Warren, former head of the Warren Commission:

"Practically all the Cabinet members of President Kennedy's administration, along with Director J. Edgar Hoover of the FBI and Chief James Rowley of the Secret Service, whose duty it was to protect the life of the President, testified that to their knowledge there was no sign of any conspiracy. To say now that these people, as well as the Commission, suppressed, neglected to unearth, or overlooked evidence of a conspiracy would be an indictment of the entire government of the United States. It would mean the whole structure was absolutely corrupt from top to bottom, with not one person of high or low rank willing to come forward to expose the villany..."
- The Memoirs of Earl Warren, by Earl Warren, p. 367.

2009-11-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

"If the world were merely seductive, that would be easy. If it were merely challenging, that would be no problem. But I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day."
— E.B. White

SUNANDSTEEPLE

2009-11-11T10:28:00.000-08:00

"Some humans would do anything to see if it was possible to do it. If you put a large switch in some cave somewhere, with a sign on it saying 'End-of-the-World Switch. PLEASE DO NOT TOUCH', the paint wouldn't even have time to dry."

~Terry Pratchett~ (Thief of Time)

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Sun-N-Steeple

2009-11-10T04:24:00.000-08:00

"Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana."
~Groucho Marx~
[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

.O'Dasor De
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2009-11-05T16:39:00.000-08:00

Evey Hammond: [voiceover] Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.

Quote from V for Vendetta
- Alan Moore

Evey Hammond: [voiceover] Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot...

But what of the man?
I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605,
he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament.
But who was he really? What was he like?

We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail.
He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten,
but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world.

I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas,
I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them...

but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it...

ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love...

And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man...

A man that made me remember the Fifth of November.
A man that I will never forget.

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Sun & Steeple

2009-11-03T08:40:00.000-08:00

When Gerald R. Ford took the presidential oath of office,
he famously declared,

"My fellow Americans, our long, national nightmare is over."

.O'Dasor De
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sun-n-steeple

2009-11-01T11:07:00.000-08:00

Sun and Steeple

2009-10-12T05:30:00.000-07:00

Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out.
It doesn't matter much to me.

~ John Lennon ~

Sun and Steeple

2009-10-09T15:04:00.000-07:00

Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out.
It doesn't matter much to me.

~ John Lennon

sun and steeple

2009-08-29T09:28:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"The five essential entrepreneurial skills for success are concentration, discrimination, organization, innovation and communication."
~~ Michael Faraday

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----------------
Now playing: Eddy Grant - Electric Avenue
via FoxyTunes

sUN-AND-sTEEPLE

2009-06-17T14:11:00.000-07:00

“If technology is the answer, you are probably asking the wrong question.”

~~ Charley Richardson
teaches at the UMass Lowell Labor Extension Program

Sun-N-Steeple

2009-06-15T03:04:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

I think we are welcomed. But it was not a peaceful welcome.
--George W. Bush

Philadelphia, PA
12/12/2005
on the reception of American forces in Iraq

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Now playing: Elvis L Carden - Iraqi Blues
via FoxyTunes

Sun & Steeple

2009-06-14T06:58:00.000-07:00

via FoxyTunes [click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

When I was a small child, my favorite color was purple. It didn’t require any deliberation for me to make that choice; purple was self-evidently the most attractive color in a box of crayons—anyone could see that. In fact, I remember being perplexed at people whose favorite color was something other than purple, and downright shocked when someone claimed not to like purple at all.

But the early days of childhood were ones in which we were too young to make serious value judgments. Everyone had a different favorite color, shape, animal, or song, and all choices were equally good.

Feeling Blue About Purple

But by the time I was halfway through elementary school, I had begun to realize that not everyone adopted an attitude of tolerant acceptance when it came to one’s choice of favorite color. “Purple is for sissies,” my classmates insisted, and made fun of me for having such an unhip favorite color. (Had I been more confident and quicker on my feet, I might have countered, “Oh yeah, then why do kings always wear purple?” I probably would have regretted saying that, though, as soon as someone produced a picture of a king wearing tights.

Children can be cruel.) As a measure of self-preservation, I decided the only safe course was to change my favorite color. I was at a loss to know what a reasonable second choice would be. I asked my mother what her favorite color was, and she said, “Blue.” I thought about that. I figured blue was a pretty OK color too, and it was definitely a safe and culturally acceptable favorite color.

So right then and there, I decided to convert. For the next ten years or so, I proudly and persuasively claimed that my favorite color was blue.

When I got to college, however, I began to learn how to think for myself. My cousin Jeff, who was a senior at the same college when I was a freshman, was my inspiration. He always—always—wrote in purple ink. And yet he was popular and well-respected. I briefly considered that he got away with this only because he was imposingly tall, but eventually realized that he had simply never accepted the unwarranted criticism of his color choices and had made a habit of standing up for his beliefs. Emboldened, I recanted my errant allegiance to blue and restored purple to its rightful place as my favorite color.

There was just one problem: in those days, purple pens were not easy to locate. I asked Jeff discreetly about his supplier, and he said that his mom kept him in stock. About a week later, a care package arrived from Aunt Janice: a year’s supply of purple pens.

You may be wondering what, other than this endearing autobiographical story, is actually interesting about purple. I’m glad you asked.

Shrinking Violet

The most surprising thing about purple is that it does not exist objectively. That is to say, there’s no single wavelength of light that can properly be called “purple”; humans only perceive purple when a mixture of blue light and red light hits their retinas. This seemingly counterintuitive fact makes more sense if you look at a spectrum; you’ll notice that red is on one end and blue is close to the other end. There’s no point where the two overlap to form an intermediate shade, unlike the green that appears between yellow and blue.

Spectrally speaking, you can’t have a single wavelength that is a “reddish blue” or a “bluish red.”

But what about violet? Violet has its own band on the spectrum, on the other side of blue—and isn’t violet just another name for purple? Well…yes and no.

Technically, the poem is correct: “Violets are blue.” Violet is really nothing more than a very dark shade of blue, just as indigo is a light shade. By definition, violet can’t have any red in it, even though we commonly talk as though it does. Frustratingly, dictionaries are misleading on this subject. In Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, one of the definitions of violet is “a color produced by a combination of red and blue in equal proportions; a bluish purple color,” while in the same dictionary purple is defined similarly as “[a] red and blue color.” True enough, you can mix red and blue paint or pigment and see purple, but if you’re going to be nitpickingly accurate, you can’t call any mixture of red and blue “violet,” and you must be willing to accept that what you see as “purple” is really an illusion created in your brain.

Purple Reigns

That’s not to say that purple (illusory though it may be) doesn’t appear in nature. According to an ancient Roman legend, in about 1500 B.C., Hercules was walking his sheepdog on the beach one day. After biting into a mollusk, the dog’s mouth turned an unusual color. The mollusk, known as murex, was the first source of purple dye for fabrics—a pigment called Tyrian purple. The process by which the coloring agent was extracted, which required salt, heat, and water, was difficult and labor-intensive. In addition, each mollusk produced such a small quantity of dye that thousands were needed for a single garment. This is why purple was so expensive and came to be associated with royalty—generally the only people who could afford such extravagance.

As recently as the mid-1800s, purple dye was still very hard to come by. Fabric dyes, based as they were on plant and animal products, for the most part produced colors that were bland and subject to fading. Synthetic dyes were invented by a happy accident. In 1856, an 18-year-old chemistry student named William Perkin, working in his home lab, was trying to synthesize quinine, an antimalarial agent. One of his experiments failed, but produced a beautiful powdery residue, which when dissolved served as a brilliant and colorfast purple dye. Perkin’s dye came to be called “mauve,” and in almost no time it was extraordinarily popular. Other synthetic dyes soon followed, and now form the basis of almost all fabric coloring.

There is an important lesson to be learned here. If you ever felt tempted to ridicule someone whose favorite color is purple, consider that your blue jeans, red shirt, or green jacket would probably have been a dull gray were it not for the innovative and lucky discovery of William Perkin. Purple, in other words, deserves your respect and admiration. To this day, I still write with a Passionate Purple pen. So I won’t take offense if someone calls my writing “purple prose.”

~~Joe Kissell

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Now playing: The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Purple Haze
via FoxyTunes

Sun+n+Steeple

2009-06-12T21:24:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via
Bartleby's

Simpson’s Contemporary Quotations, compiled by James B. Simpson. 1988.

"I would hurl words into the darkness and wait for an echo. If an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight."

~~Richard Wright

Simpson’s Contemporary Quotations, compiled by James B. Simpson. Copyright © 1988 by James B. Simpson. Published by the Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

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Now playing: Incubus - Echo
via FoxyTunes

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Now playing: Incubus - Echo
via FoxyTunes

sun and steeple

2009-06-08T16:44:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"Surely the day will come when color means nothing more than skin tone, when religion is seen uniquely as a way to speak one’s soul;
when birth places have the weight of a throw of the dice and all men are born free, when understanding breeds love and brotherhood."

~~ Josephine Baker

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Now playing: Ojos de Brujo - Color
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sun-n-steeple

2009-06-07T09:07:00.001-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via Bartleby's

All of life is a foreign country.
~~Jack Kerouac
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Now playing: Tom Petty - Jack
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sun-and-steeple

2009-06-04T03:23:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{sun-and-steeple images
by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"A secret is seldom safe in more than one breast."
~~ Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)

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Now playing: The Beatles - Do You Want To Know A Secret
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SuN-N-StEePlE

2009-06-03T07:39:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via
The Academy of American Poets

Casey at the Bat
by Ernest Lawrence Thayer

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that--
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped--
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville--mighty Casey has struck out.

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Now playing: DeWolf Hopper - Casey at the Bat (1906)
via FoxyTunes

sunNsteeple

2009-05-31T17:22:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

Talk not so much
... of the great old masters,
who but painted and chisell’d.

Study not only their productions.

There is a still higher school for him who would kindle his fire with coal from the altar of the loftiest and purest art.

It is the school of all grand actions and grand virtues,
of heroism,
of the death of patriots and martyrs
— of all the mighty deeds written in the pages of history
— deeds of daring,
and enthusiasm, devotion, and fortitude.

~ Walt Whitman ~

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Now playing: Billy Bragg & Wilco - Walt Whitman's Niece
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sunnsteeple

2009-05-30T08:04:00.001-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via
The Free Dictionary

Benny Goodman

Goodman, Benny (Benjamin David Goodman), 1909–86,
American clarinetist, composer, and band leader, b. Chicago.

Goodman studied clarinet at Hull House.

In Chicago he had the opportunity to hear (and eventually to play beside) some of the outstanding jazz musicians of the era. He played the clarinet for many years in Chicago and later in California.

In 1928 he went to New York City, where in 1934 he organized his own orchestra.

In 1935 he formed the Benny Goodman trio with Gene Krupa and Teddy Wilson; it became a quartet in 1936 when Lionel Hampton joined it. Performing for radio, motion pictures, and records, Goodman's orchestra became nationally famous.

After 1939 he became known as the King of Swing.

In the 1950s Goodman's many tours abroad gained him international esteem.

He also achieved success playing classical music for clarinet, particularly with the Budapest String Quartet. He commissioned Béla Bartók to compose Contrasts, for violin, clarinet, and piano, in 1938.

Aaron Copland, Leonard Bernstein, and Morton Gould wrote music for him.

Goodman wrote The Kingdom of Swing (1939) with Irving Kolodin.

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Now playing: Benny Goodman - All the Cats Join In
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SUN AND STEEPLE

2009-05-28T13:22:00.000-07:00

tHEIR cIRCULAR lIFE

.ero

SUN-AND-STEEPLE

2009-05-27T03:47:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via
Bartleby.com

The Columbia Encyclopedia,
Sixth Edition. 2001-07.

Howe, Julia Ward

May 27, 1819 – October 17, 1910,
American author and social reformer, b. New York City.

She assisted her husband, Samuel Gridley Howe,
in his philanthropic projects and in editing the Boston Commonwealth,
an abolitionist paper.

Her first book of poetry was published in 1854.
Mrs. Howe wrote and lectured in behalf of woman suffrage,
African-American emancipation, and other causes,
and helped found a world peace organization.

In Nov., 1861, after watching Union troops march into battle,
she wrote “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” her most famous work.
It was published in the Atlantic Monthly in Feb., 1862.

The American Academy of Arts and Letters
elected her as its first woman member (1908).

Besides writing several volumes of poetry,
she was the author of Sex and Education (1874), Modern Society (1881),
and a biography of Margaret Fuller (1883).

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Now playing: David Bowie - Suffragette City
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sun-and-steeple

2009-05-25T06:00:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{sun-and-steeple images
by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"One thing you will probably remember well
is any time you forgive and forget".

~~ Franklin P. Jones
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Now playing: Tony Bennett - Ill Wind (You're Blowin' Me No Good)
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sunandsteeple

2009-05-23T15:29:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"There is a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you sick at heart, that you can't take part; you can't even passively take part, and you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you've got to make it stop. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all!"
~~Mario Savio

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Now playing: George Gershwin - Somebody Loves Me (1924) / Isabelle & Tom Patricia
via FoxyTunes Tunes

sunnsteeple

2009-05-22T03:25:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

"I like pigs. Dogs look up to us.
"Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals. "

~~Sir Winston Churchill (1874 – 1965)

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The Churchill Centre
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Now playing: Kronos Quartet - Learned Pig
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Sun and Steeple

2009-05-14T19:02:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via
The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language:
Fourth Edition. 2000.

pleonasm

SYLLABICATION: ple·o·nasm

PRONUNCIATION: pl-nzm

NOUN:

1a. The use of more words than are required to express an idea;
redundancy. b. An instance of pleonasm.

2. A superfluous word or phrase.

ETYMOLOGY:
Late Latin pleonasmus, from Greek pleonasmos, from pleonazein,
to be excessive, from plen, more.

OTHER FORMS: pleo·nastic (-nstk) —ADJECTIVE
pleo·nasti·cal·ly —ADVERB

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Now playing: Led Zeppelin - The Lemon Song
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sunnsteeple

2009-05-12T03:32:00.001-07:00

[click to enlarge]

{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via

WikiQuote

"The very essence of democracy is the absolute faith that while people must cooperate, the first function of democracy, its peculiar gift, is to develop each individual into everything that he might be.

"But I submit to you that when in each man the dream of personal greatness dies, democracy loses the real source of its future strength."

~ Edwin H. Land ~

.ero

sun-n-steeple

2009-05-11T03:47:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

mid-April; there's already some green sprouting.

can you see it?
it's not all over the place, but it's there. :-)

and the Sun? . . . well, back in January, the Sun would be riding low;
low enough to be visible within the frame of these pictures.

and the 'scape was a dark one, VERY dark, nightime dark.
an hour later than this, 830am and it was still night!

you can see this for yourself by going to older posts,
or just look at the spinner (top-right) at the corner of the screen.
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Now playing: Jason Aldean - Laughed Until We Cried
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sun n steeple

2009-05-09T08:26:00.000-07:00

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Now playing: Edwin Starr - War (Single Version)
via FoxyTunes

sun and steeple

2009-05-08T06:09:00.000-07:00

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Now playing: Tony Bennett - Some Other Spring
via FoxyTunes

Skywatch Friday No. 43

2009-05-07T04:32:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

see? in the closeup image {bottom}.

in the top left-hand corner of that big, ole, grey sky . . . that v-shaped speck? . . . that's a bird in flight.

spring, baby!
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Go and check out more
Skywatch images at the Skywatch Site!

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Now playing: Giovanni Hidalgo - Call Of The Jungle Bird
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sun-n-steeple

2009-05-05T09:42:00.000-07:00

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Now playing: M.I.A. - Paper Planes
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SUN-N-STEEPLE

2009-04-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

Sun-N-Steeple

2009-04-27T04:54:00.000-07:00

via

The Academy of Poets

anyone lived in a pretty how town

by e.e. cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

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SUN AND STEEPLE

2009-04-21T03:49:00.000-07:00

"Freedom is the very essence of life, the impelling force in all intellectual and social development, the creator of every new outlook for the future of mankind. The liberation of man from economic exploitation and from intellectual and political oppression, which finds its finest expression in the world-philosophy of Anarchism, is the first prerequisite for the evolution of a higher social culture and a new humanity."

~ Rudolf Rocker ~

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Now playing: Busta Rhymes - Anarchy
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sunandsteeple

2009-04-20T16:31:00.000-07:00

sun-N-steeple

2009-04-18T07:05:00.000-07:00

sun and steeple

2009-04-17T03:49:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]
{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.

~~ Jane Austen

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Now playing: DENIECE WILLIAMS - Silly
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sun-N-steeple

2009-04-16T04:45:00.001-07:00

Sun-N-Steeple

2009-04-15T04:17:00.000-07:00

IRS Notices and Bills, Penalties and Interest Charges

sunANDsteeple

2009-04-12T06:02:00.000-07:00

[click to enlarge]

{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

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Now playing: The Congos - Aaron & Moses (Dub)
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Sun and Steeple

2009-04-10T11:28:00.000-07:00

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Now playing: Quarteto Jobim-Morelenbaum - Águas de Março (Waters of March)
via FoxyTunes

sun-n-steeple

2009-04-07T03:39:00.001-07:00

[click to enlarge]

{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via Bartleby's

Thomas Hardy (1840–1928). Wessex Poems and Other Verses. 1898.

The Alarm

In a ferny byway
Near the great South-Wessex Highway,
A homestead raised its breakfast-smoke aloft;
The dew-damps still lay steamless, for the sun had made no sky-way,
And twilight cloaked the croft.

’Twas hard to realize on
This snug side the mute horizon
That beyond it hostile armaments might steer,
Save from seeing in the porchway a fair woman weep with eyes on
A harnessed Volunteer.

In haste he’d flown there
To his comely wife alone there,
While marching south hard by, to still her fears,
For she soon would be a mother, and few messengers were known there
In these campaigning years.

’Twas time to be Good-bying,
Since the assembly-hour was nighing
In royal George’s town at six that morn;
And betwixt its wharves and this retreat were ten good miles of hieing
Ere ring of bugle-horn.

“I’ve laid in food, Dear,
And broached the spiced and brewed, Dear;
And if our July hope should antedate,
Let the char-wench mount and gallop by the halterpath and wood, Dear,
And fetch assistance straight.

“As for Buonaparte, forget him;
He’s not like to land! But let him,
Those strike with aim who strike for wives and sons!
And the war-boats built to float him; ’twere but wanted to upset him
A slat from Nelson’s guns!

“But, to assure thee,
And of creeping fears to cure thee,
If he should be rumored anchoring in the Road,
Drive with the nurse to Kingsbere; and let nothing thence allure thee
Till we’ve him safe-bestowed.

“Now, to turn to marching matters:—
I’ve my knapsack, firelock, spatters,
Crossbelts, priming-horn, stock, bay’net, blackball, clay,
Pouch, magazine, flints, flint-box that at every quick-step clatters;
…My heart, Dear; that must stay!”

—With breathings broken
Farewell was kissed unspoken,
And they parted there as morning stroked the panes;
And the Volunteer went on, and turned, and twirled his glove for token,
And took the coastward lanes.

When above He’th Hills he found him,
He saw, on gazing round him,
The Barrow-Beacon burning—burning low,
As if, perhaps, uplighted ever since he’d homeward bound him;
And it meant: Expect the Foe!

Leaving the byway,
And following swift the highway,
Car and chariot met he, faring fast inland;
“He’s anchored, Soldier!” shouted some:
“God save thee, marching thy way,
Th’lt front him on the strand!”

He slowed; he stopped; he paltered
Awhile with self, and faltered,
“Why courting misadventure shoreward roam?
To Molly, surely! Seek the woods with her till times have altered;
Charity favors home.

“Else, my denying
He would come she’ll read as lying—
Think the Barrow-Beacon must have met my eyes—
That my words were not unwareness, but deceit of her, while trying
My life to jeopardize.

“At home is stocked provision,
And to-night, without suspicion,
We might bear it with us to a covert near;
Such sin, to save a childing wife, would earn it Christ’s remission,
Though none forgive it here!”

While thus he, thinking,
A little bird, quick drinking
Among the crowfoot tufts the river bore,
Was tangled in their stringy arms, and fluttered, well-nigh sinking,
Near him, upon the moor.

He stepped in, reached, and seized it,
And, preening, had released it
But that a thought of Holy Writ occurred,
And Signs Divine ere battle, till it seemed him Heaven had pleased it
As guide to send the bird.

“O Lord, direct me!…
Doth Duty now expect me
To march a-coast, or guard my weak ones near?
Give this bird a flight according, that I thence know to elect me
The southward or the rear.”

He loosed his clasp; when, rising,
The bird—as if surmising—
Bore due to southward, crossing by the Froom,
And Durnover Great-Field and Fort, the soldier clear advising—
Prompted he wist by Whom.

Then on he panted
By grim Mai-Don, and slanted
Up the steep Ridge-way, hearkening betwixt whiles,
Till, nearing coast and harbor, he beheld the shore-line planted
With Foot and Horse for miles.

Mistrusting not the omen,
He gained the beach, where Yeomen,
Militia, Fencibles, and Pikemen bold,
With Regulars in thousands, were enmassed to meet the Foemen,
Whose fleet had not yet shoaled.

Captain and Colonel,
Sere Generals, Ensigns vernal,
Were there, of neighbor-natives, Michel, Smith,
Meggs, Bingham, Gambier, Cunningham, roused by the hued nocturnal
Swoop on their land and kith.

But Buonaparte still tarried;
His project had miscarried;
At the last hour, equipped for victory,
The fleet had paused; his subtle combinations had been parried
By British strategy.

Homeward returning
Anon, no beacons burning,
No alarms, the Volunteer, in modest bliss,
Te Deum sang with wife and friends: “We praise Thee, Lord, discerning
That Thou hast helped in this!”

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Now playing: NITTY GRITTY - False Alarm
via FoxyTunes

Sun and Steeple

2009-04-04T01:02:00.001-07:00

there is a kite that has been caught by the tree to the left of the church's steeple. it has been in that tree since early fall 2008.

where is Charlie Brown when we need him?

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Now playing: U2 - Kite
via FoxyTunes

sunnsteeple

2009-04-01T03:54:00.001-07:00

[click to enlarge]

{images by O'Dasor De, LAM}

via Bartleby's

Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.

General William Booth Enters into Heaven

Vachel Lindsay (1879–1931)

(To be sung to the tune of The Blood of the Lamb with indicated instrument)

I
(Bass drum beaten loudly)

Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.”
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:—
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

(Banjos)

Every slum had sent its half-a-score
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)
Every banner that the wide world flies
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,
Tranced, fanatical, they shrieked and sang:—
“Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?”
Hallelujah! It was queer to see
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare,
On, on upward thro’ the golden air!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)

II
(Bass drum slower and softer)

Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief,
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,
Beard a-flying, air of high command
Unabated in that holy land.

(Sweet flute music)

Jesus came from out the court-house door,
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there
Round and round the mighty court-house square.
Yet in an instant all that blear review
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.

(Bass drum louder)

Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,
Rulers of empires and of forests green!

(Grand chorus of all instruments. Tambourines to the foreground)

The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)
O, shout Salvation! It was good to see
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.
The banjos rattled and the tambourines
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.

(Reverently sung, no instruments)

And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer
He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air.
Christ came gently with a robe and crown
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?

Note 1. Reprinted by permission of the publishers, from General William Booth Enters into Heaven, and Other Poems, by Vachel Lindsay. Copyright, 1913, by The Macmillan Company.

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Now playing: DJ Kurt - Super Fly
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Sun-n-Steeple

that's not rain, that's pain: 20120126 CWA- United NY Joint Action on Verizon Tax Evasion

20120116 MLK Rally in support of CableVision Unionizing

Patricio by O'dasor De, LAM

Gotta Have Hope by O'Dasor De, LAM

La Madelina by O'Dasor De, LAM

Edelmira by O'Dasor De, LAM

20111201 Labor March for Jobs and Fairness by O'Dasor De, LAM

Trickle Treat by O'Dasor De, LAM

Christmas Tree 2011

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