A Choice Land

. . . yea, a land which is choice above all other lands.
1 Nephi 2:20

Choice is the land to the righteous and pure,

where all may live happy whether rich or obscure.

Under the wing of our Almighty Chief

there's very small cause for much sorrow or grief.

Our land is a blessing, a nourishing gift --

as long as into error we never do drift.

Help me to cherish my birthright this day,

to let finer instincts hold ultimate sway.

Better is little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble therewith.

Better is little with the fear of the Lord than great treasure and trouble therewith.
Proverbs 15:16

Oh Lord, I ask for just one thing

from thy limitless wellspring:

affirmation that I dwell

in thy grace, where all is well.

What is there to lack, I trow,

when thy cherishing I know?

Photo Essay: Repurposed Images.

My Norwegian angels.

Two-dimensional

and complicated.

It's complicated.

No me,

but the balloon.

Life is made up of

sharp points

on dull sticks.

Bald of bark.

Bulging and bleached.

Orphan wood.

It was hot and sour soup.

Or chili.

It's impossible to remember every taste.

My bestselling autobiography:

"Loitering Through Life."

Available only on Mars.

Drinking baby oil

in Thailand.

Don't ask.

Families are like milkweed pods;

either packed too close together

or drifting too far apart.

And there was no contention

And there was no contention among the people in the forty and fourth year; neither was there much contention in the forty and fifth year.
Helaman 3:2

People sans contention are a wonder, to be sure;

God will so protect them that their nation will endure.

Cannot peace and harmony be found today the same,

instead of constant argument that leads to wrath and shame?

Give me strength to keep the peace, O Lord, I do implore;

soften all my words and help me concord to adore!

Photo Essay: Postcards to my President. Vol. 19

Magyarországnak egy mandula problémája van

Budapest városa aggodalomra ad okot.
Magyarország fővárosa a vírusos feliformia robbantó populációjával foglalkozik, amelyek eredetileg India szubkontinensen jöttek. Az önkormányzati hatóságok veszteségesek magyarázzák, hogy miként alakult ki a városban a mongúz, amely híres a harcokról, majd azután mérgező kígyók, például Cobras megragadásáról.
Az egyik elmélet az, hogy az állatokat először egy már elromlott sörfőzde vezette be a városi környezetbe, amely „Mongoose” elnevezésű pilsner sört készített az ital nyilvánosságra hozatala érdekében a sörgyár tucatnyi mongoózt importált Indiából, és ketrecekben jelentette meg őket előcsarnokukban. Amikor a sörgyár csődbe ment, a tulajdonosok egyszerűen kinyitották a ketreceket, és hagyták, hogy a lények magukat keressék.
A vadon élő állatok szakértői szerint ez valószínűtlen, mert a mangó egy trópusi állat, amely nem képes megállni a minden télen Budapesten előforduló fagyhőmérsékleteket. Az állati aktivisták szerint azonban a mongózok behatoltak a szennyvízcsatornabe, ahol a hőmérséklet mindig hetvenöt fokos balzsamos, és étrendjüket úgy alakították ki, hogy kígyók helyett patkányokon zajlanak.
Bármi is legyen az ok, a város felhelyezi a „KÉRJÜK, NEM TÖLTSÉG MEG a MONGOÓZISokat” jelzéseket, hogy meg lehessen akadályozni, hogy az opportunista állatok kártevőké és rozsdássá alakuljanak, ami már megtörtént a város galambjaival.

Photo Essay: Burt Gummer, Where are You?

After binge watching all 5 Tremors movies on Netflix,

I felt the cinder block walls of my apartment closing

in on me. Time to get out and hunt down some grub!

That's what Burt Gummer would do.

I see people are taking my lemon bars.

I made them from scratch this morning

and put them out in the back lobby with a 

card inviting anyone/everyone to have a piece.

As of 3:30 this afternoon there were only 3

pieces left.

Outside in the street there's this abandoned

sandwich board.

It's been there for two weeks now,

and I'm tempted to snag it for myself.

There's always something you can do

with a good sandwich board.

Ain't nature grand?

Walking east on 100 North. The wind is

as bitter as my ex-mother-in-law.

What does a giant rooster have to do with

a pawn shop? These are the kinds of 

mysteries that make walking fun.

The Pest House, where I used to work.

Ah, if I remember correctly, this place

serves up some good roast beef.

The place is pretty much deserted at 2 p.m.

on a Friday afternoon.

I ordered something called

'Frejol con Seco.'

Basically, pot roast supposedly bathed

in a rich cilantro sauce. I saw no

sign of any cilantro sauce, but the beef

went down well with the rice and some

mild salsa verde.

.

I reckon I'll come back here again the next time

I want a substantial cut of beef. I see they

have bistec con pappas fritas on the menu.

Stopped at Fresh Market on my way home for

a can of creamed corn. I'm gonna make fiesta

cornbread tomorrow morning, with a cheddar

cheese topping. I'll eat a big piece for breakfast,

and then leave the rest out in the lobby for 

whoever wants some.

Friday night is closing in on me, just like

the cinder block walls did earlier.

I don't feel very happy, not even with a belly

full of pot roast.

It's hell being all alone sometimes --

tonight I don't think I can be much

of a survivalist.

Burt Gummer, where are you when I need you?

A Poem Inspired by a Story from Robyn Dixon.

Robyn Dixon. Washington Post.

Robyn Dixon graduated from the Presbyterian Ladies College, in Burwood, Australia.
She has a great fondness for Moscow, and its mules.
She speaks several languages fluently, including Doktorskaya Kolbasa and Sardelka.
Her ambition in life is to learn to play the orchestrion.
She's worked for various newspapers since before ducks had legs.
For her work at the Washington Post she has received the Orders of Nakhimov, Kutuzov,
 Ushakov, and Nockitoff.

MOSCOW — Eight years ago, President Vladimir Putin decreed that Russia must become a leading scientific power. That meant at least five top-100 Russian universities by 2020, and a dramatic increase in the number of global citations of Russian scientific papers.

Now a group at the center of Putin’s aspirations, the Russian Academy of Sciences, has dropped a bombshell into the plans. A commission set up by the academy has led to the retraction of at least 869 Russian scientific articles, mainly for plagiarism.      @RobynDixon__

The Russians have been stealing stuff

from other countries, pal,

ever since old Lenin stole

his ideas from Pascal.

No concept is original with any of those bums

(They even stole the formula

to manufacture Tums.)

So when their academics,

under prodding from Poo-tin,

steal from one another,

why, it's really not a sin.

They're trained to filch and not to think;

pickpockets of the mind.

Lend them some eyeglasses

and they'll want to steal you blind!

He doth love the stranger

He doth execute the judgment of the fatherless and widow, and loveth the stranger, in giving him food and raiment.
Deuteronomy 10:18

Tis easy loving those we know,

who then will love us back.

But when a stranger's at the gate,

do we care that they lack?

We feed them at a distance,

give them castoffs with disdain;

never want to shake their hands

afraid that they might stain.

If kindness to the stranger 

is not bred into our bone,

I think someday before the Lord

we'll have to stand . . . alone.