No, I'm not Byron; I am, yet, Another choice for the sacred dole, Like him - a persecuted soul, But only of the Russian set. I early start and end the whole, And will not win the future days; Like in an ocean, in my soul, A cargo of lost hopes stays. Who, oh, my ocean severe, Could read all secrets in your scroll? Who'll tell the people my idea? I'm God or no one at all! -- Mikhael Lermentov, No, I'm Not Byron...
A Year of Poetry – Day 281
Posted by daddybear71 on January 29, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/29/a-year-of-poetry-day-281/
A Year of Poetry – Day 280
“Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air….
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace.
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
– Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.”
— John Gillespie MaGee, Jr., High Flight
Posted by daddybear71 on January 28, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/28/a-year-of-poetry-day-280/
50 Years On – Apollo 1
On January 27, 1967, the crew of Apollo 1 strapped themselves into their spacecraft for a routine test. Astronauts Grissom, White, and Chaffee were preparing for a launch of the first Apollo spacecraft a few weeks later. The United States was racing to put men on the moon, and this was to be a vital test of the craft that would take them there.
After the doors were sealed, something started a fire in the oxygen-filled capsule, and the three astronauts died before they could get out or be rescued. This was the first time that an American space crew had perished. Unfortunately, it was not the last.
The deaths of these brave men sobered a nation which was giddy over the space program. Few at the time realized the true risks astronauts took every time they flew, much less in the preparations for flight. NASA, to its credit, learned from the tragedy and used its lessons to improve the equipment and procedures used in later missions.
I grew up in the immediate aftermath of the Apollo missions. I remember, vaguely, being placed in front of my parents’ television to watch men walk on the moon. My first science fiction books were full of hope that mankind would stretch out from our planet to explore and conquer the stars. Men like Grissom, White, and Chaffee, along with their compatriots aboard Challenger and Columbia, remind us that achieving those dreams will be dangerous and it will exact a toll in lives.
We will find our way in space, of that I have no doubt. Our astronauts, cosmonauts, and taikonauts are the descendants of all of the men and women who stretched out across vast oceans to find the next island or the lands over the horizon. But those journeys, as deadly as they were, were done at the bottom of an ocean of air, and a leak in the boat was not almost uniformly fatal. Our new explorers will make their journeys in an environment more deadly than any of our ancestors could imagine, but they do it with all of the knowledge and skill our species can muster.
We will lose good men and women as we stretch out from our cradle. It could be due to bad decisions, or faulty equipment, or just bad luck, but that price must be paid if we are to not only set foot on other planets, but to seed them with our civilizations. When that happens, it is right and necessary for us to honor the lost, but it is absolutely incumbent upon us to learn from tragedy and use it to spur ourselves further toward the horizon.
Today, we remember Virgil Grissom, Edward White, and Roger Chaffee, but we honor them by never forgetting why they climbed into that capsule. It is my fervent hope that my children and grandchildren will follow them to the stars, and it is my job as a parent to teach them about the heroes who gave of themselves to get them there.
Posted by daddybear71 on January 27, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/27/50-years-on-apollo-1/
A Year of Poetry – Day 279
The hedge on the left, and the trench on the right,
And the whispering, rustling wood between,
And who knows where in the wood to-night,
Death or capture may lurk unseen,
The open field and the figures lying
Under the shade of the apple trees —
Is it the wind in the branches sighing
Or a German trying to stop a sneeze.
Louder the voices of night come thronging,
But over them all the sound is clear,
Taking me back to the place of my longing
And the cultured sneezes I used to hear,
Lecture-time and my tutor’s ‘hanker’
Stopping his period’s rounded close,
Like the frozen hand of a German ranker
Down in a ditch with a cold in his nose.
I’m cold, too, and a stealthy shuffle
From the man with a pistol covering me,
And the Bosche moving off with a snap and a shuffle
Break the windows of memory —
I can’t make sure till the moon gets lighter —
Anyway shooting is over bold,
Oh, damn you, get back to your trench, you blighter,
I really can’t shoot a man with a cold.
— E. Alan Mackintosh, In No Man’s Land
Posted by daddybear71 on January 27, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/27/a-year-of-poetry-day-279/
Lost Children Live Now!
Just got the email that Lost Children has gone live on Amazon! Thanks to everyone who bought it on pre-sale. It should show up on your e-reader this morning.
Hope everyone enjoys the latest yarn. Please remember, honest reviews are always welcome!
Posted by daddybear71 on January 26, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/26/lost-children-live-now/
A Year of Poetry – Day 278
Before a lonely shrine
Of foam-born Aphrodite,
Ungarlanded of vine,
Undyed by dripping wine,
I brought green bay to twine,
And prayed to her, almighty, —
And lo, the prayer of mine
Was heard of Aphrodite.
I sang of answered prayer,
And now before the goddess,
The maids lay flowers rare,
And she has ceased to care
For bay that I might bear.
To heal my heart’s distress,
My feet must wander where
There waits some lonelier goddess.
— Sara Teasdale, Triolets
Posted by daddybear71 on January 26, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/26/a-year-of-poetry-day-278/
100 Years On – Zimmermann Telegram
In January, 1917, British intelligence intercepted a telegram from the German foreign ministry to its ambassador in Mexico. The message, which has come to be known as the “Zimmermann Telegram,” detailed a proposal by the German government to support a Mexican attack on the United States if the U.S. were to declare war on Germany.
Mexico was still smarting from U.S. incursions into its northern borderlands by the United States Army, as well as the seizure of Veracruz in 1914. German leadership hoped that war with Mexico would delay or reduce the amount of assistance the United States could offer the European allies. This would improve Germany’s chances of success in 1917 and 1918.
British codebreakers had a conundrum, though. How to get the telegram into the hands of the Americans without giving away the fact that they were tapping American diplomatic channels? The Americans, officially neutral in the war and hoping that a negotiated peace could be brokered, allowed German diplomatic traffic to pass over their trans-Atlantic cables. Normally, this traffic had to be unencrypted, but somehow Germany was able to convince American diplomats to allow this telegram to be sent encoded. Since the cable ran through British hands, and our cousins across the sea are nobody’s fools, they were making copies of everything that went down that wire.
After a bit of subterfuge on the part of the British, and a bit of bad decision-making on the part of the Germans, the telegram was not only delivered to the Americans, but was publicly confirmed as authentic . This helped to swell anti-German sentiment in the United States and, along with German resumption of unlimited submarine warfare in February 1917, helped to bring the Americans into the war against Germany.
Posted by daddybear71 on January 25, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/25/100-years-on-zimmermann-telegram/
A Year of Poetry – Day 277
A fond kiss, and then we sever;
A farewell, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerfu’ twinkle lights me;
Dark despair around benights me.
I’ll ne’er blame my partial fancy,
Nothing could resist my Nancy;
But to see her was to love her;
Love but her, and love forever.
Had we never lov’d say kindly,
Had we never lov’d say blindly,
Never met–or never parted–
We had ne’er been broken-hearted.
Fare thee well, thou first and fairest!
Fare thee well, thou best and dearest!
Thine be like a joy and treasure,
Peace. enjoyment, love, and pleasure!
A fond kiss, and then we sever;
A farewell, alas, forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee!
— Robert Burns, A Fond Kiss
Posted by daddybear71 on January 25, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/25/a-year-of-poetry-day-277/
A Year of Poetry – Day 276
“Where have I come from, where did you pick me up?” the baby asked
its mother.
She answered, half crying, half laughing, and clasping the
baby to her breast-
“You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood’s games; and when with
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade
you then.
You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship
I worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my
mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have
been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered
as a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow
in the sky before the sunrise.
Heaven’s first darling, twain-born with the morning light, you
have floated down the stream of the world’s life, and at last you
have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong
to all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What
magic has snared the world’s treasure in these slender arms of
mine?”
its mother.
She answered, half crying, half laughing, and clasping the
baby to her breast-
“You were hidden in my heart as its desire, my darling.
You were in the dolls of my childhood’s games; and when with
clay I made the image of my god every morning, I made the unmade
you then.
You were enshrined with our household deity, in his worship
I worshipped you.
In all my hopes and my loves, in my life, in the life of my
mother you have lived.
In the lap of the deathless Spirit who rules our home you have
been nursed for ages.
When in girlhood my heart was opening its petals, you hovered
as a fragrance about it.
Your tender softness bloomed in my youthful limbs, like a glow
in the sky before the sunrise.
Heaven’s first darling, twain-born with the morning light, you
have floated down the stream of the world’s life, and at last you
have stranded on my heart.
As I gaze on your face, mystery overwhelms me; you who belong
to all have become mine.
For fear of losing you I hold you tight to my breast. What
magic has snared the world’s treasure in these slender arms of
mine?”
— Rabindranath Tagore, The Beginning
Posted by daddybear71 on January 24, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/24/a-year-of-poetry-day-276/
Things That Work Versus Things That Don’t
In the last year or so, we’ve seen a lot of political posturing, blustering, and, let’s be honest, whining from both sides. Personally, I’m sick of all of it, but it doesn’t look like it’s going to subside any time soon.
In order to try and help my fellow citizens understand what they can do to help the situation, and what they can do that will, at best, have no effect on the situation, I’ll contrast things that work with things that don’t work:
Peaceful, respectful protest versus violent rioting and vandalism
Want me to listen to what you have to say? Try having a clear, articulate, and sane message that I can understand, either from the sound of your voice or the sign in your hand. If you’d rather that I turn my back on you, all you have to do is assault those who disagree with you, destroy property, or put up with those who do in your ranks.
Getting off your high horse versus whining about voter ID and how elections are run
It’s 2017. If you have the ability to read this post, you have the ability to get an ID before the next election. I will have no sympathy for anyone who complains that they have trouble voting. Girlie Bear was able to get an absentee ballot and vote on her first try, so there’s no excuse for you not figuring it out before 2018. Get your birth certificate, get your ID, and get your butt to the polls. If you don’t like the electoral college or how primaries happen in your state, now is the time to get them changed.
Criticizing a politician’s policies and actions versus attacking his family
OK, I get it. Folks made snide and outrageous remarks about your guy’s kids when he was in office. It was heinous then, and it’s heinous now. Decent folks, you know, the ones with jobs and a voter registration card, get turned off by crap like that. Leave the families alone.
Reasonable discussion versus personal insults
I’ll admit it. I’m a middle-aged white guy, the great oppressor. The green-eyed devil. But guess what? You need my vote and my support, or at least you need me to not oppose you, if you’re going to get anything done. If you keep accusing me of racism, misogyny, and all of the other bugaboos of the political insult machine, eventually I’m going to believe you. If you want me to look at things from your perspective, tone it down and look at things from mine.
Being politically engaged versus being ‘woke’
OK, I’m proud that a lot of you have looked around and realized that the country isn’t exactly paradise. Congratulations. Now, do something about it. Telling everyone on Facebook about what you’ve figured out is useless. Taking polls and signing on-line petitions is useless. Know what’s not useless? Signing actual ballot petitions, sending letters and making phone calls to elected officials, showing up to town council meetings, and actually schlepping to the polls every year or so. Jawing about how bad things are changes nothing. Flooding the streets with women wearing oddly shaped hats does next to nothing. If everyone who ‘liked’ Sanders had gone to the polls, he would have gotten the nomination. If everyone who screamed “I’m With Her” on Twitter had voted, you’d all still be drunk from celebrating her inaugural.
Perhaps if those who don’t care for President Trump start on these kinds of things now, 2018 won’t be an absolute blood bath for the Democrats, and in 2020, you’ll have a shot. If not, well, it’s going to be a long few years, now isn’t it?
Posted by daddybear71 on January 23, 2017
https://daddybearsden.com/2017/01/23/things-that-work-versus-things-that-dont/
DaddyBear
DaddyBear’s Den 
