New Blog


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To all my followers (both the ones who really care and all the others who were just advertising themselves 😀 ) I have opened a new blog.

I invite you to visit the main page at NO GREATER LOVE and the two subsidiary pages ABOUT and ABOUT THE AUTHOR.

Be Good.  Be Well.  Love God.  Love one another.  I love all you knuckleheads.


P.S. If you go there you get to see my REAL name.  🙂



Not Been Around Much


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First, I want to apologize to those who follow me for not writing in quite a while, and I want to equally apologize to those who I follow for not being there for them either.

The reasons are several and none of them, I think, constitutes an adequate excuse, so I won’t try to give one.

Second, I want to announce the formation of a new blog and the soon closing of this one.  I’m not quite ready to link the new blog yet.  I want at least three or four new posts with which to inaugurate it and am just not quite up to that point yet.

The title of the blog is No Greater Love. The theme is Spiritual, with an emphasis on Christian Spirituality.

New blogs are a lot of trouble.  This new one will be my fourth in about as many years, with the longest living of the four being my first.  It lived two years.  They involve a lot of administrative work to get them just where you want them for looks and serviceability.

I will be sure to provide a link here when it is good to go.  Hopefully, that will be before the end of the year.

Thanks to everyone for their patience with me, and for patronizing my little contribution to the Internet here.  I hope to see you in the other place when it is ready.




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Once day the world will be completely ruled by women in the home, the workplace, the executive mansion and on the battlefield.  Come on, you know it too.

It’s already happened, it’s just not as obvious as it will become.  It’s becoming more obvious everyday.  Right Hil?  And then one day,


and it can’t be denied at ALL!

The world will be ruled by women and they will make us KNOW it!

It will serve the world right.  *nods*


Thank You, World!


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Thank You, World, you Son of a Bitch!

Vulgarities are fit for Vulgarians such as thou and me.

Spaghetti and Tacos;

homemade by me, of course.

They were great!  Thank you muchly.

I’ve more gratitude, you shit-faced bastard, but I will dish it as you dished everything to me for over half a century;

T*o*r*t*u*o*u*s*l*y — S*l*o*w


That’s all I have for the nonce.

Check Back

ham and eggs

Without a Stone


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Erect no monument.  Conduct or build no memorial.  Sing no hymns.  Hold no solemn or hand-clapping, glory-raising service.  Raise no stone.  It’s like telling a recumbent hound, “down!”

None will be erected.  None conducted or built and none held.  Never a song will rise and stone will rest undisturbed.

Thank God!

In youth, were dreams of greatness.  Broadway and Hollywood were the goals.  The aspiration simmered on the tongue and the odor filled the nose.  Lights sparkled in the eyes from the inside-out.  The heart crackled with lustful fire.  Fast feet ran toward it and the zeal of youth proclaimed it to all within hearing with loud and strident voice.  The missing ingredients were encouragement and minimal support.  None were received.

No Tonys, Golden Globes or Oscars.  No stars in pavement or feet and hands in wet cement.

Res Ipsa Loquitur

In youth were dreams of spirituality and a minister’s call was heard.  To whom, or what, and exactly how, it was unsure.  There was though youth and time and feeling that in the sureness of time the Spirit would lead the way.  Encouragement and support were similarly lacking, but more importantly there was seduction and the corruption of morals too young to know the difference.  The calling was buried, but not forgotten.

There is no bitterness, no resentment remaining over these.  The era has become geologic: ancient, sad, petrified history.  Forgiveness is given as it is received.

Youth is gone now.  The first dream was for Glory.  The second was for Love.  The first lies as dust of an unforgotten corpse.  Bones return to dust.  Only memory remains.

Anima eius et animæ omnium fidelium defunctorum per Dei misericordiam

Requiescant in Pace.

Age attends, and the second has been resurrected.  Alas!  Too late.  It now survives in an inferior vessel.  It has done good service.  None were done for itself.  All was done to advance the infinite Love that was given and commanded by the Spirit.  But, the carnal vase is nearly gone.

It no longer holds the strength to withstand the buffets of the World and the all too rapid and crawling pace of time.  It is cracked and soon will crumble.  Less than the fingers of one hand minus the thumb will mourn.

Without a stone to mark the spot, remand the shards to Potter’s Field.



Custodian’s Closet; Short Takes — XIII


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Inside the custodian’s closet!

A floor drain with a high power spigot running COLD and HOT!.

Mops, Buckets, Solvents, Detergents, Brooms, Scrub Pads, Paper Products of ALL Types!


The Temple of Clean!

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
Eh?  Quis Indeed?  hee hee . . .


I love the alliteration.  Do you dig?

Posting soon:

  • Facing Fear
  • Un Monumental


Annabel Lee


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Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Edgar Allan Poe

This is one of my all time favorite poems.  I have always been a great fan of Poe since I was a teenager, many decades ago.  I am less of a fan than I was then, but still a fan nonetheless.

There seems to something about the dark nature of his writings which attracts the morose tendency of most teenagers and the later growing of appreciation of poetry seems to diminish that, but the nostalgia for the time when we first discovered him draws us back to him always.  Yes?


I met Richard when I came to Charlottesville, Virginia in June of 2008.

Richard was finishing his term of service with Americorps/VISTA at Charlottesville Abundant Life Ministries (C.A.L.M.) and preparing to enter employment with CALM.  I was just beginning my term of service with VISTA (Volunteers In Service To America) with CALM and Richard was my supervisor.  He was (and is) a college graduate, which is a requirement of all VISTA volunteers, and I liked him upon our first meeting.  He is young enough to be my son, but as far as I can determine the difference in our ages has not created a barrier to our relationship.

Since that time, nearly 4 1/2 years ago, we have remained close.  I consider him a friend and I hope he feels the same way towards me.  We have had many lunch meetings and a few social gatherings at his house which is grandly named “The Manor House.”  Discussions of personal romance and politics and religion are not out of bounds with this energetic and outgoing young man.  He was born with a heart as large as his home state of Georgia and a maturity to match many others I have met twice his age.

The van I am now driving was purchased from Rich, and on more than one occasion he has helped me out when I found myself in minor financial straits.  I have offered him my ear and my advice (for what it is worth) on matters of his heart and I hope that it has been of some comfort if not use to him.

Richard, wherever we may go and whatever paths or lives may carry us down,  I will always hold you dear in my memory.  Thanks for your vivacity, warmth, and, most especially, your friendship.


Snow Before a Summer Sun


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Tecumseh (1768-1813), Shawnee chief

Where today are the Pequot?  Where are the Narragansett, the Mohican, the Pokanoket, and many other tribes of our people?  The have vanished before the avarice and the oppression of the White man, as snow before a summer sun.

Will we let ourselves be destroyed in our turn without a struggle, give up our homes, our country bequeathed to us by the Great Spirit, the graves of our dead and everything that is dear and sacred to us?

I know you will cry with me, ‘Never!  Never!’



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I’ve been working on a couple or three pieces lately and none are yet up to snuff.  I keep jumping back and forth and just when I think I’m on a roll a brain fart occurs and I start another project.

I’ve been reading quite a bit more lately as well.  Maybe you could tell from the various literary and poetical postings.  Maybe you couldn’t.  Maybe you couldn’t maintain the interest necessary to circumnavigate a rat’s anus.  *shrug*