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November 19, 2017, 02:59:59 PM
586787 Posts in 45205 Topics by 5994 Members
Latest Member: Georgenabe
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 on: November 18, 2017, 09:53:01 AM 
Started by ER - Last post by Dark Alex
Alex, Mr. Mash, the janitor guy on On You Being Served used to talk about the glorious day when the revolutions comes. Am I in the right neighborhood?

If by right neighbourhood you mean British TV then yes, but I am afraid that is not the show I was thinking about, although I will give you a point of karma for getting a reference that I didn't remember despite having watched that show as a child.

 on: November 18, 2017, 09:40:18 AM 
Started by RCMerchant - Last post by Rev. Powell
Well, now I'm having a similar problem.  Bluesad

 on: November 18, 2017, 09:36:38 AM 
Started by ER - Last post by ER
Genghis Khan has 16 million living descendants today.
Which means that he is almost halfway towards replacing the total number of people he killed!
BUT! The big question is-are they as charming as him?   Question


 on: November 18, 2017, 09:35:48 AM 
Started by ER - Last post by ER
Itís good to be alive.

Since except for a few twinges I am finally more or less better after my recent back pain (though still no closer to figuring out what it was all about) I took a solitary walk in the woods today amid the cloud-smothered dawn, hearing the world wake up and feeling the energy that is always there, if you let your spirit open to it. The soil smelled richly damp, the few dry leaves the oaks still hold rattled above me, the scuttling noises of squirrels doing their quirky little dances, the deer flashing their white tails like ghosts between the thickets, it was all part of the glory. All just another day in these woods that five generations of my family have known, that I once fought a years-long legal battle to keep when my grandfather left them to me and someone else, not even in my family, really, tried to take them away.

I donít know if there is anyplace I love more.

Itís disturbingly warm out right now, humid, spring-like, storms are forecast for the afternoon, some "strong to severe" as the meteorologists say in their precisely-worded language, and in the part of the world where I live natureís inclemencies can be more than just an inconvenience. Right now the wind has begun to hiss, swatting the tallest tree branches, swaying them, leaving me to wonder what will come crashing down sometime between now and the stillness of sunset, assuming it reaches its projected "gusts of up to forty miles an hour" today and doesn't spawn anything worse, as sometimes happens, even in November.

Because where we live the sky canít always be trusted. The sky, cruel as well as kind, tries to hurt you.

Our woods, though, it could survive almost anything, and likely has, since itís very old, ancient, even. Because of its geography, slanted topography giving way to steep hillside, it lacks those venerable trees that reach cloud-ward, gravity and geometryís unyielding angles, taking their toll before old growth is ever achieved, but it is a virgin forest all the same, its cycles of seeding, maturity and death, then an afterlife in the loam, bark decaying to soil, have repeated over and over for half a thousand human generations.

We know for a fact that Shawnee Indians used to camp here on the tallest hillside that looks down at the local river valley, and though that sounds long ago to us, 250 years, to the forest they would have been late-comers.

A group of friendly Mormons once told me they think this place may actually have been a Book of Mormon site: how about that? They tried to make a case that the advanced Hopewell of 2,000 years ago, who, like the Shawnee we know were here, literally HERE, coincided perfectly with the Lamanites of which their faith tells.

Before the historical tribes, though, even before the dubious Lamanites, who knows. Itís believed the first people to be here in these hills above the fertile river valley came trailing the glaciers' retreat as the ice age, which never actually ended, began its patient trek north where it remains even now in the land of permafrost tundras. Cougars used to be here, bears, sloths, wolves, even, far enough back mammoths, since we have the distinction of residing almost literally where the half-mile high glaciers stopped their southern advance, before reversing as the mysteries of climate caused their alteration, their runoff flooding downward with gravity, feeding a river even more ancient than this woods, creating boulder-dotted gullys we used to climb down into as children, and which my children like to do today. So mammoths used to graze here beside the ice, feeding on the meadow flowers that dotted the pseudo-tundra that was onceÖ.right here. I like to imagine what they smelled like, and how their trumpeting calls must have sounded.

Weird as it sounds, I love them, even though theyíre long, long gone.

So from a human perspective, the woods has "always" been here, never logged, never developed, through millennia, possibly 13,000 years old, and sometimes I think it has many secrets, that it knows things that have gone on. Iím sure across the century of centuries of its life span lovers have met here, feuds were fought, deals made, rituals enacted, skies watched, sacrifices undertaken, ordeals endured, storms, fires, almost certainly murders. If there are such things as ghosts, surely ghosts have been here too, floating in the mists, recalling life, perhaps always cold, cold, cold in death. At least thatís how I always imagined them as a child, spending nights here with my grandparents, hearing stories, sitting up alone and sleepless staring out the windows into the woods, imagining I saw things, telling myself I did.

I can tell you from my own humble vantage point, a mere speck in the time it has known, odd events have come to pass within the woods we are so silly as call ďours.Ē

For instance there are disappearances associated with our woods, probably natural, almost certainly natural, but, shrug, my mind spins what it will. A few years ago my daughter, then about six, wanted a cat, so we got her one, and since the little cat had four white paws, my child announced she was named Miss Sparkly Feet.

Cute don't you think?

Miss Sparkly Feet was quiet, even for her kind, tolerant but not markedly affectionate, and one dayÖ.she simply vanished. Poof. Gone. We looked but never found her. Unremarkable, I suppose, cats being cats, but we never found any trace, any clue, any sign of predatory violence, just...into the woods she apparently went, and in the woods she stayed forever. One of lifeís small mysteries.

This summer our beagle, Ernie, a rescue dog, sweet but admittedly not anyoneís favorite compared to our lab, Chocolate, likewise took one of his walkabouts into the woods, something he did many times in the eight years we had him, only this timeÖwell.

Yes, coyotes roam here. Yes, things happen. No, I donít truly think the woods ate our pets whole, consuming them in some Sabbath of the Soil, or believe they slipped through some portal and wound up sharing the environs with stone age hunter gatherers, but who am I to say they didnít? Makes a more bearable explanation than the pair winding up coyote dung.

But our woods, itís a cool place. It dresses up with each season and rewards us for the love we give it. It has memories everywhere I look, of special times and people Iíve known, who lived here too. It whispers and hints and plays games, and likes to remind me that itís been here for a very long time.

Itís the most remarkable place I know.

 on: November 18, 2017, 08:42:46 AM 
Started by ER - Last post by ER
Alex, Mr. Mash, the janitor guy on On You Being Served used to talk about the glorious day when the revolutions comes. Am I in the right neighborhood?

 on: November 18, 2017, 08:36:32 AM 
Started by BTM - Last post by Dark Alex
We decided to take a walk outside this morning, but due to it being a high cold wind (which sets off Kristi's asthma) it got turned into a quick walk to the local shop and back. As we were returning I could hear in Kristi's voice that it was starting to go so I did something very mean to her.

I made her stop talking for a whole five minutes for the part of the journey where we were walking directly into the wind. Despite my occasional (ahem) long posts on here in real life I tend to prefer being quite quiet. Generally if Kristi hasn't spoken for thirty seconds I put a mirror in front of her mouth to check she is still breathing. I am happy with her talking lots as it means I don't have to make small talk.

However with Kristi unable to talk I used the five minutes to tell her a joke about a hopeless pilot during WW2 that I'd heard when I was about 13. I could see in her eyes she was desperate to say something about the historical inaccuracies in the joke and it was torturing her, but I timed it perfectly and hit the punch line just as we turned round a corner and were no longer heading into the wind.

Just got a notification from AC/DC's page that Malcolm Young has died. RIP there. Saw them live in Glasgow on the Ballbreaker tour. Awesome night.

 on: November 18, 2017, 06:02:03 AM 
Started by dean - Last post by Dark Alex
The Star Wars Holiday Special


You mean the thing that Disney are talking about releasing a high res version of? Good job it doesn't exist as that would be truly awful, but you know you'd have to watch it because it would be canon.

Happy life day.

 on: November 18, 2017, 04:14:37 AM 
Started by zombie #1 - Last post by RCMerchant
I also HATE CGI.  Give me practical effects any day.  Even if they are badly done they still look better than CGI to me.
oh-Welcome to the forum Beat Truck!  Thumbup

 on: November 18, 2017, 03:52:23 AM 
Started by Allhallowsday - Last post by RCMerchant
In my f**ked up opinion-punk rock is more important than it ever was. Because our countery is f**ked. And it seems like NO ONE has the balls to fight back againstwhat is right in front of your face-Trump is stealing your life-a millionaire f**ker is running your life. Whatare you gonna do about it?

Ron, it's a horror.  

Second, if you did not VOTE.  STFU.  

Really? After that electoral collage bulls**t-do you really think your vote matters? It's all about money and back door nastiness. Yer vote means as much as a dog s**tting in front of a polling both. It means NOTHING.  Hatred And that goes for the Democrats too. Their just as crooked as the Republicans. Trump ain't a Republican. Trump is an idiot TV show moron. And that's just what this Reality TV show based country deserves.

Were a country of morons. Europe thinks were a joke. Can you blame them?

 on: November 18, 2017, 03:50:47 AM 
Started by zombie #1 - Last post by beat_truck
I also HATE CGI.  Give me practical effects any day.  Even if they are badly done they still look better than CGI to me.

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