P.H._D>

The dynamic quest to uncover, rediscover, avoid the need for undercover, discover are all the angles in A Story (proper noun) is  amiable, alluring and  elusive. The process for exposing any given anomaly  through fiction, imagined  imitations of aspects of reality,  or truth includes a range of details splayed across  value scales like the grays in a sketch. The Story is weighted heavily in a finer sense of pragmatism and intuition.  It is lifted floating in a wanderlust of dazzling heights, a vermillion feather on those supple wind currents of compassion and knowledge. At the end of it all, not the in apocalyptic sense,  but merely in the completion of this idea, a complicated balance,  inconvenient,  is found in the emerging conclusion. *The Hope*.

Some exposures and the creative fair consequences of these are easier to fathom then others especially when the villian or villians are obviously irretrievably that. An antagonist constructed in a flat one dimensional manner in the story line will show us this about life, as well.  To live beyond dimensions or across them is hard. Think of living beyond any given moment and into the next few > 100trillion, 2 billion, 300million 456 thousand times on a regular basis while circling the globe at light speed. WOW! Well, maybe not all that. ;)

<But>

Deeply entrenched roots, are not easily removed. The extrication is often damaging to the landscape- a hole- as erosion sets in, and other plants are damaged in the uprooting. Better if the tufts of grass, weeds, seeds, new trees, with less rooted systems, be plucked, planted, pruned, watered and maintained for everyone's enjoyment and good health.  Guided but not controlled in their growth by well appointed gardeners and natural means through wind and storms.

 Simply said, preparation for the future across and beyond objects like crystal balls, obelisks, oracles and tarot cards is the essence of the present, the Y.O.L.O. of it all. Media, literature, the arts and film lend us a hand, offer a vision.

Beyond gardening tips and figurative language, we have arrived at the head stand moment in the yoga class of our discussion. The guest is now a cover, specifically and literally a book cover. Ohh I happen to have one here and I have permission to use it from the author. =Easy=

On this cover, if you choose to buy the book, there is a very interesting detail on the side of the mountain. The top most figure in the imagined evolution, in this truly well crafted, thought provoking and lol book,  and it is  a key to the next novel.   Covers, like this one,  often set the tone along with the title for the content  when carefully chosen. A Story always has a good cover.

 I certainly needed my P.H._D to tell you this.   I am after all  Perfectly Human (yes, that means I have flaws) and  the  first initial  of my name   is identifying me and a minor contribution to the Alphabetical Assembly for shared use in the effort to craft communications of all kinds. :) I now afforded us the most sanguine moment for a little talk about education as a most compelling topic for our times.



On one end of the spectrum education, as an institution, has not yet made a student of the robot but possibly a master. If they attended a local University, what would be their double Major? Would they live in a dorm room with the human students or would they find a corner stand in the communal computer lounge? Robotics is definitely a rainbow for the enhancements it brings to our defenses and quality of life but there is always the threat of a storm, dare I say apocalypse, as many suggest. Just say'n. The Zombie(the viral on virus) of film, video, books  is getting a little heavy competition from the engineered real time plethora of robots. Seems like there is quite the line up for the destruction of humanity theories, past, now present and in the future.


Did you know we need never seek an education on how to play the violin, dance, write or even concern ourselves with the distinction of species as....there is a robot for that.  This phrase may replace the "there is an app for that" predecessor. We are circling the balance of educated artificial intelligence, the new frontier, in relation to human augmentation.  Reasonable progress with a 360 degree  understanding  and awareness of  ripples would be a rare gift for any human or human team.  What will be the future effects? ))))))

Trees Grow Mighty Roots

 Scared, feeling apathetic or just plain ignoring it all. No, when we talk about education, enlightenment and foundations in learning, as they relate to later accomplishments we are finding the gold flakes in glass balls, the true riches. Learning always accompanies expansion in thought along with a deeper understanding of complex boundaries,  ideas but also  tolerance, compassion and culture. What is a mind without a heart, an intuition and  a finer sense of things.  The P.H.(Perfect Human)  level does not deny us this in the whirlpool of life. *The Fight*

In the end, yes, a kind of  apocalypse has occurred in the kidnapping of teen girls and the sordid corrupt and brutal  form their education has taken.  It is perfectly human to demand the right to an education and to preserve the institutions that offer global citizenship through learning. The cover on the face of things and the uncovering of the network of people responsible for this atrocity is a worthy goal. The highest edification in an educational institution comes from the PhD. *Respect*  The fact that this exists and is attainable, if we choose,  along with all the other graduated steps starting from around age 6 on  is a basic right. The freedom, for all people is partly this. Here is a  P.H._D (perfectly human demand ).   I was able to attain an education irregardless of my gender and I wish this for all.  This issue is completely and utterly of our times and once again the International community has begun the fight. Thank your for examining the Glitches along with me.

Twitter#BringBackOurGirls

Bring Back our Girls

 


By Donna Thompson P.H.-D> ;)
Author
The Glitch
Writation Tab and also at
Koobug
All rights reserved Digtial and Copyright 2014

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The Peanut Cart

My last blog, "Mixology of Life" was a splash into the splendor of  a 7 star hotel, the Burj Al Arab, in Dubai. The glimpse into solid gold paneling, arcing water of fountains, a single red rose and a city behind glass was an indelible memory.Optics and resplendence aside, I still harbored a fascination, a craving for fresh roasted peanuts straight from the cart, at street level.       I was aware that anaphylaxis was on  the rise possibly due to increased sensitivities to air quality, food stuffs and water quality, but so too was the new medicine. Small measured doses of peanuts could be administered to the patient within a highly functional medical setting.A careful and thorough monitoring of all signs and symptoms was the safety net to walking the high wire of building a physiology of resiliency against the harmful effects of the nefarious nut. My father went through this treatment years ago as a solution for the ambulance in the driveway and completely swollen breathing passages following a bee sting. The little pollen pocketed yellow and black striped insects of the fields and flowers became just that, for my father and our family,  as opposed to precursors to an alarming and traumatic reaction that was as deadly as a  gun shot.       Ahh science innovations and the consequential conquests can be so endearing in the battlefields of human health care.Even the most genuine of peace lovers can appreciate that fight.

In Montmartre, Paris  steps from  the Basilica De Sacre Coeur the wrinkled , amiable and carefree countenance of the peanut vendor was as welcoming as spring rain after a cold hard winter.Sunbeams glinted off the metal bars at his back.The chiseled,smudged gray stones radiated warmth in collaboration with the earthy enticing aroma emanating from the pan on the cook stand.      The place swirled with illustrious visitors, enticing characters, no doubt,  who had the good sense to flip the page, and gather in the reality of the steps, the narrows and open spaces of this historic, well preserved, spiritually minted edifice. From  behind radiated spokes of the wheel, and the fitted block of his  cart the peanut man flipped, adjusted and attended to the roasting process with an attention and ease that made time stand still   -not like the time you were caught in the maelstrom, as is often the case, but similar to watching children play, an elder smile, or noticing dappled light on a forest path.       When he spoke, the words were clipped and decorated with a melodic french accent and meaning was dipped in the chocolate of clear and simple as he explained the process in depth. The fellow, tied with a fresh apron newly splotched and crinkled  in the centre, lingered over the idea of keeping the temperatures constant, and the consistent careful rotation of the denizen of the deep, the well rooted peanut. The result was a  perfect taste sensation,   cart caviar of the streets from this contented gentle man in a fastidiously  tilted felt black cap and a coat of cultural data.

The essence of his simplicity embellished the colour in  the scarves and clung to feathery fringes of  hairstyles of  passerbyers for an  upbeat, rosy feeling like the red nose fastened to a clown or the moment you decide to turn off the mobile, if only for 20min.       The quick fix of phones momentarily set aside to give your fave five, the senses, a moment to dial in and your 6th sense a chance to get a little exercise.  Hunter- gathers of information portals, content,stimulus and digital connections do not ever really nullify their tech , completely. These days  tech  enhances our experiences when it remains a complement as opposed to an adversary or companion for life.   I say this while still respecting the craft and pleasure of peanuts roasted near the steps of the Basilica on a blue sky day, as this is a reminder to change directions or at least slow the run to a walk for a moment.

People, sauntered  haunted  and raced through the ramparts, steps and structures  arm in arm, in captured stills, motion, emotion, and or poised for reflection.The heights were  alluring as in Dubai  but the city was Paris and the views were formidable in the light.We were out of the fishbowl, rather the magnificent aquarium of one city behind glass, as beautiful as a starry night.We felt , now, like birds on the wing or perched on the buttresses with pillars of stone and exceptional architecture framing  panoramas. You could reach out your hand and feel the breath of the currents that shaped the clouds overhead and brushed the objects below.      The windows on cities ,behind glass or open air, are a boundless source of amazement, and yes, I would say cities are the personification of agility for human habitation, when well planned.

                                                                               

The peanut vendor standing tall behind his rustic cart shared his visions, there, at ground level of a peaceful peopled zone. He would continue to wheel his roasted recipe of arachnids to this location and that around the city gathering the pulse of the places. Now he would, engage with others over roasted peanuts and glance over his the layered padding of his shoulders, eye to eye with  the Sacre Coeur,  in all her glory. She had his back. The ornate wrought iron fencing were monkey bars for child's play not barriers .  His joy,  love for life and comfortable space in the crowd conformed easily to his surroundings. He reminded me of an intricate, animate and carefully designed puzzle piece fitted into the masterpiece of  the most complex and breathtaking jigsaw that was his city.

                                                                           The Center

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Creating Creativity With Words - A Creative Writing Experiment

I wrote an article in Bubblews called Becoming Creative - Using Words to Make a Story. You can see the total article on Bubblews: Becoming Creative Using Words to Make a Story. This article examines how you can use an article that someone else wrote, and use their words to make your own article.

This is not plagiarism when you make a brand new story or article because what you do is use every Fifth word in their article.

Let's repeat:

1. find an article with at least 800 to 1,000 words or a chapter in a book. 
2. write down or highlight every fifth word
3. use every one of those words in a article or story at least one time
4. Post it here, there, and everywhere

So I found a group of article that made up 1,000 words, so I have 200 words to use. I am going to make it even harder for myself by not using any other words, just these 200. It might make it a little weird a story, with weird grammar, but I think it will be a fun way to create something different. 

How about you? Do you want to try out this Creative Writing Experiment too? 

Article by Laura Jevtich of Laura-n-Sasha

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Blind Eye

When Drew Walker was 23, his parents died in a car crash, leaving him their farm. Drew was 'different', and got teased a lot. He built strange scarecrows that moved when the wind blew. One would suddenly stand up in a field, one took off its hat and scratched its head, and one made a courtly bow. There was one that danced a mad jig in a high wind, and another that waved and whistled when the breeze was right. Drew was getting letters and packages through the mail around then.

One day Drew surprised us all by announcing  he was getting married. Drew would fetch his bride and throw a wedding celebration in the spring. In May he left to collect her and was gone several weeks. Details were sketchy, but that was normal for Drew. No one knew how he found his bride and none of us got to meet her, for Drew brought her home in the dead of night and she never came out of that house afterwards. She may still be in there for all we know.

At first Drew said his bride was tired from the journey. He seemed preoccupied, and became more and more withdrawn. Eventually we rarely saw him. We gave up hopes of a wedding celebration and eventually of ever seeing his wife. Rumours flew: she was ill, deformed, mute, mad, or worse. Some said she was a store mannequin. You know how stories get out of hand if no one is watching your back.

Kids would sneak around Drew’s farm as a way to scare each other, but they never saw anything. Drew installed locks, heavy curtains, and an iron grate with a sliding cover on the door. The grate was open a crack so someone could peek out without being seen if someone knocked on the door. Not that any visitors came.

It got so we rarely saw Drew. He must have been shopping in another town. We forgot about him. Out of sight, out of mind. One day we discovered his farm had been abandoned. We never found out what happened to Drew or his wife, if there was one. I wonder if things would be different if we had made an effort with that kid.

Challenge: Write a brief story about the above image and post in comments below.

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