And the Spirit said unto me: Behold, what desirest thou?

 And the Spirit said unto me: Behold, what desirest thou?

First Nephi. Chapter Eleven. Verse 2.

The desire for knowledge of God --

of His plans and designs

of His purpose for me

is inconsistent at times in me.

At times unpaid bills and bodily pains,

the unaccountable rush and halt,

the unraveling state of my being,

 leave my heart ponderless.

So I am left to wonder --

can I desire things aright?

Am I meek,

or just shallow?

Shallow desires crowd me.

O, give me strength

to push back --

to move mountains in my mind!

What people are saying about Rupert Murdoch (Anonymously)

Rupert Murdoch

(Most of these people insisted on anonymity to share intimate details about the family and its business so as not to risk retribution.)

from an article on Rupert Murdoch in today's New York Times

When I want to deal the dirt

I simply have to say

"This is all anonymous,

don't give my name away!"

Cuz journalists are hungry

for a story that will rise

above the realm of verity,

to snag the Hillman Prize.

And I sure fear reprisals

from the people I have dissed;

who I have stabbed right in the back

(and also fondly kissed.)

And so I come to Rupert,

who I've known a long long while;

full of contradictions,

with a fascinating guile.

He's good to his employees,

unless he is good and mad.

He loves his wives and children

(though he treats them like a cad.)

He'd like to rule a country --

just a small one that is poor;

he'd keep the peasants working

and give banks the old what-for.

He never touches corn flakes

and of Guinness he is fond;

He dotes on fast red race cars

and pretends that he's James Bond.

In fine (though off the record)

he's the kind of perky gent

who never gives an order

unless to a president . . . 

Egypt’s President el-Sisi Extends Iron Grip to New Arena: Soap Operas (NYT Headline)

Egypt's really on the ropes/when they trifle with the Soaps/tyrants who screw up the script/ought to have their power stripped!

according to the own due time of the Lord

. . . according to the own due time of the Lord . . .

First Nephi. Chapter Ten. Verse 3.

My schedule is busy;

I've a lot I must get done.

Time is at a premium;

I'm always on the run.

But in the midst of frenzy

there has sometimes come to me

the feeling that my timetable

is just a mockery.

The calendared appointments

disappear before my eyes,

and I am left to wonder

at the clouds up in the skies.

They do not have a deadline,

nor firm destination plans;

and God alone is cognizant

of their uncertain spans.

Humbly, then, I bow my head,

to recognize how small

is my own agenda --

and not vital after all.

those narrow streets and thug infested lanes

Cities have thrived over the last decade, as jobs and people have migrated back downtown from far-flung suburbs.
WSJ

those narrow streets 

and thug infested lanes

which my parents fled

when I was but a tyke.

*

stranding us out in meadows

 amidst birds and parks

and even a creek

where catfish lurked.

*

it all made me crazy

and my grades suffered

from lack of 

carbon monoxide.

*

but now at last I can

say goodbye to clean white sidewalks

and the rioting greenery

that grows like zombies in a movie.

*

or zombies who commute

no more of that for me

I walk five blocks to work

and live in a pesthole.

*

but me and the cockroaches

are so happy to be

urban creatures once again

that broken bottles look like tulips.

*

I don't need fresh air

and wide vistas

but rather the frisson

of hit-and-run encounters.

*

There is no sting in poverty

And all these things did my father see, and hear, and speak, as he dwelt in a tent

First Nephi. Chapter Nine. Verse 1.

An outcast and a refugee,

Old Lehi knew austerity --

since after ease came revelation

that brought him near to full starvation.

With a dusty sagging tent

from Jerusalem he went

and rejoiced in God's affection

as he worked towards his perfection.

There is no sting in poverty

when God His miracles I see. 

So Does Your Smartphone Know if You’re Depressed?

For one study Dr. Baker is recruiting 100 patients with bipolar disorder or schizophrenia to follow for a year through monthly recorded sessions and data collected from wearable sensors and smartphones.

Sumathi Reddy

my smartphone is a narc

it spies on me

it tells the doctors

when I stutter

*

my smartphone knows

where I am 24/7

and contains a built-in

breathalyzer

*

it beeps to remind me

to take my pills on time

it has pop ups

for the Mayo Clinic

*

I hear voices from my smartphone

they tell me to do things

but I will wear a cap of tinfoil

and tell the FBI what they say

Chicken in a watermelon is no less real

"Chicken in a watermelon is no less real . . ."

Sam Sifton

in the beginning 

of man's reality

the chicken came

with the watermelon

*

thus creating a

chronic dichotomy

between watermelon

and chicken to this day

*

some would say the chicken

being in the watermelon

is the totality of our reality

and must come first

*

others disagree and claim

the watermelon existed

long before the chicken

could get into it.

*

both sides are wrong

there is no chicken

there is no watermelon

there is only chamoy sauce

*

in other words

stop thinking of chicken in watermelon

think instead 

of ordering takeout

*

how big is a swath?

A federal judge in Alaska has reinstated a ban on oil-and-gas drilling in vast swaths of the Arctic Ocean, potentially undermining a central part of the Trump administration’s effort to expand offshore drilling.

WSJ

how big is a swath?

bigger than a patch?

wider than a spot?

deeper than a politician?

*

how cold is the Arctic Ocean?

colder than a polar bear's nose?

chillier than a raw blizzard?

More frozen than Birdseye?

*

how much should we care?

as much as we can?

just a little to look good?

not even enough to finish this . . . 

(The above riddle is brought to you courtesy of the U.S. Department of the Interior. Replies should be sent to:

c/o David Bernhardt.)

The orchard of delightful whole

And as I partook of the fruit thereof it filled my soul with exceedingly great joy . . . 

First Nephi. Chapter Eight. Verse 12.

I would fill my soul with fruit;

the kind that satisfies

all my innocent desire

for truth sans any lies.

*

A soul replete brings joy immense,

stands proof against the foe

who wants to starve us with excess

that brings but sullen woe.

*

O make my soul a joyful soul,

Thou only perfect One --

The orchard of delightful whole

belongs to God's own Son.