Shut this blog down

The two novels, A Puma in the Tree and A Penny Drops, written over a three year period, show remarkable similarities such that I should revisit several questions as to themes and origins, these now in some conflict with earlier assertions.

Each novel features a heterosexual male around thirty obsessed with reflecting on past and just-passed events or interchanges, thereby convincing himself he has become more aware, maybe enlightened--he thinks so because of "discovered," quasi-touchstone principles he articulates not as well as the first or famous who did so. The distant past does not figure in retrospections except to suggest each "hero" should take a more careful look to see what if anything is really there to deal with, or that figures in who he is now.

The protagonists encounter in the course of their days people, mostly women, who intrigue and interest them, finding in the end that the most human among the women is the logical choice for deeper involvement. They, our heroes, abandon, for the most part, contacts with friends and girlfriends. Each is both predator and predatee and can't decide what or who to blame for acts and impulses they feel. Each suspects hormones, or whatever other physiological chimera to point to as excuse for never-outrageous yet to each extraordinary moments.

Each protagonist is drawn to beauty in people and places but they reveal little of their own attractiveness that others seem to find in them. Each thinks his some measure of sweeter-than-thou kindness, un-realistic openness and restraint, and hyper-protestant earnestness will save him, and the world? but salvation from what they don't seem to know. Each is subject to emotional setbacks, but return to persist in moral-like behavior without religious affiliation or other anchor.

Both characters find themselves in featureless rural towns in the western U.S. as newcomers starting again. They are prone to make observations about people and places that over time must be revised. Although work or career figure into plot progression, the stories are more about working through relationships and discovering each's identity. The importance of friendship and older, more experienced characters figure in both accounts. Eating and drinking at bars and restaurants provide settings for forgetting, avoiding, and superficial connecting. Each describes what he sees in details corresponding to needs and wants, including limitations because of age and stage of life. There is little notice or judgment as to gender or race or other demographic characteristics. Also, there is no violence or unpleasant character that the protagonists need encounter.

The titles for each work are telling in the use of the indefinite pronoun. Thus the tentative nature of things, uncertainties, unknowns pervade life as each character lives it. People somehow struggle through, evidentially revealing their essential goodness, and that is a foundation for acceptance and love to be valued in the end.

Enough already--thus to say in effect the two books are more the same than different. The experiment to create a second novel different from the first has failed, although one story might be more literary than the other (meta-fictional), or more interesting to follow the short journey to its conclusion (testosterone drives choice among three or four mate-material candidates).

This blog has been to sort me out. At the outset, I left that to the reader, should there be one, thinking that if interested:

Here is a bunch of stuff. People are complex. Now, see if you can get a picture of who is talking here. I hope you find in the process something interesting or entertaining or both. Or, please agree or disagree with me.

As evidence for sorting myself out, given that I gave the time and focus to what I have posted thus far, this post could be along the lines of,

Hey, I figured something out, that the so-called novels I was playing with also during this process, artificial things that they are, are just stories from flow states, or the recorded up-wellings from somewhere inside me. End of story and stories. They are as reflections or propaganda, not what I would have had them be, things outside myself to hold up and contemplate. Works of an impersonal nature, not reflections of my deeper self. 

I was wrong.

Writing for no audience proves instructive again. I am okay having come this far, but there is yet something more to be learned, and harder work to be done . . . to create and discover a truth or two without artifice.

In view of this milestone, it will be soon time to shut this blog down and let the next project take me to, please, a different and less navel-gazing posture.

Yet, it's been fun and challenging.

Danny, the true(?) fragment

One has good fortune if in earnest s/he catches refreshment from the font of imagination now and again issuing forth from dream-like states that insist, "Hey this is pretty good. Record and develop it."

This appears to be that from August 2010. Did I write this? if so, why did I abandon it? Seems promising now, including some of the wording. Evocative I would say, and with enough story paths to take with any of the characters named. It is a document called Danny.

Or did I copy it from somewhere and thus not really creative. I don't think so. I had to go through and correct typo-mistakes, signaling to me that I must have been writing and stopped.

If I am in error, enlighten me.

George, Danny's father, was the culprit, but no one except him knew that, although he has long since passed, and not that he had the  intelligence of what he did when he left Danny there. Danny became a foundling, and George made him so by setting him as a babe of ten days in that bush on the dogcart road between upper Sesson and Sesson proper on an early October morning. Once he assured himself that Danny was wrapped tightly against the cool morning air, George plodded off without so much as a kiss or wave good-bye. He disappeared like the morning dew, and no one saw him again, and we don't know what became of him.

George was indeed a plodding sort. A bit slow, some thought. Stubborn, his brother later said, and sufficiently alienated from his young wife and neighbors as to be almost invisible. No one missed him except Mary, at first, that is, for he was her lifeline to the world outside the house. She was a shut-in, as the locals described her. For her it was dread of the world and all she knew about it, which wasn't much.

We can think of George as having made a decision and carrying out his own disappearance and effectively Danny's and leaving others to sort out any complications. But as things were, the complications were few, the consequences great if measure we could.

Just after the disappearances, people in upper Sesson talked, which means they created plausible causes, conjectures really: that George stole Danny and left for another woman and mother; that he killed himself and the boy out of idiocy and desperation, life not being very interesting or tolerable with a wife like Mary; that George's relatives came and whisked him and the boy away deeming the life of a shut-in was contagious and that would be no way for the boys to live out their days. Other stories arose and fell with the wavering interest in things unexplained, but as with other events not fed by a few facts or creative gossip, the disappearance of son and father soon ceased to take up the time of the village gossips; and life returned to near normal, that is to the rhythm of uneventful lives being carried out by rote and resignation.

And why didn't upper Sesson folks take notice when Lara and Johan in Sesson proper began showing off their newborn son? In short, the Sesson's intelligentsia didn't talk, and Lara's claim of hardly showing during her pregnancy, plus Kathy, the midwife's verification of "a spotless delivery" where she did little more than counsel and advise the new parents of what to do in the first days after birth, well, there seemed to be little to notice, less to talk about. The proud parents went from childless to a threesome in a flash and each counted as blessing and a miracle that Danny, now Fitch, had figured in what God had intended by the holy sacrament of matrimony.

His Mother

Mary was always a kind and quiet girl, and when she married the village dolt, few, except her parents, commented. Comment. Seems too benign a word. Mary's parents accepted their daughter's choice of saving and educating her husband, but they never shut up about how stupid it was. It was a comment never far from the nicety of greeting that forever s

Sally was simple.

Mary

Xewr8f&s32@u#ru#a2ha Ha ha!

UPPDATE, 04.07.17

Here is another in the same genre. Who knows? Maybe Mailik is back under a new name?

[begin message]

From: toson tamara
I am very sorry to disturb you with my little problem. But I hope that you will understand to help me as fast and as possible.
  Right now I am house arrested and I am being house arrested for 2 years due to some slight misunderstanding that I had with the former company where I used to work. So I cannot currently do anything on my own because I have 2 police men who are custodying me here in my house. So even if I have to go to the toilet there is one of them who is always standing near by me. This is exactly why I need your help Mr. because I have some documents that I deposited into a security company here in London/UK about 3 years ago and this documents are holding a transfer worth of 4.6 million british pounds. All I want you to do for me is to assist me in clearing this documents from the security company as my beneficiary or next of kin so that the lock box that these documents are in can get delivered to you there in your country on my behalf. I will write to the security company as soon as I get your reply to notify them that you are to clear this lock box on my behalf as my beneficiary. So as soon as the delivery of the box commences to you I will get a suitable lawyer who will accompany the delivery of these documents to you, so together you and him will clear the transfer of the 4.6 million dollars into an account there in your country. And after I will continue with the purchasing of your property as I said. This lock box that is containing the documents has a security code that opens it I will give the codes to you as soon as the delivery of the lock box commences to you.
    I was not supposed to be able to write this email or use anything that has the access of the internet but because I have one of these 2 police men who are custodying me here in my house as a friend. He understands me and gave me this idea, he is standing next to me right now as I write to you. I am writing to you because I like your property and also would prefer to leave this country as soon as everything is rectified with your assistance. I am originally from Austria but I have lived most of my life here in England. I wrote to 4 other house owners wish I was also interested in but you were the only person that replied to my message so I hope that you can be able to help me. 10 percent of this 4.6 million british pounds is going to be for you because of your help assistance. So please I need you to understand me and try to help me as soon as possible. I will be most grateful...

[end message]

My response was to have him write in German, which he did, and then the messages stopped.

[begin original post]

In 1995, computing students at the university where I was teaching had a field day discussing a letter that came from someone in Nigeria promising a fee if the recipient could help "the poor soul" move money out of that country. The letter failed some credibility criterion--I don't recall what it was but it was surely contained, then as now, within a very careful reading of text. Over twenty years later, the phishers in Nigeria(?) are still at it, only the appeal to heartstrings has changed to the plight of refugees trying to take a nest egg out of Syria.

As a part of appearing legitimate, a phisher recently sent me this image of his I. D., which was attached to his(?) email message. Does it convince you?*

Phishing ID Specimen

Here is the letter. You might receive something like this. If so, suggest you ignore and delete, although some study of the pitch and any "evidence" to establish credibility, such as the above image, would be well worth the time.

[begin message, not the original formatting]

Greetings my dear,  

How are you and your family today, I pray you are all safe and good?

I thank you for your response to my mail on your property? which i am interested in, i read the details of your  property? and i like it and i am ready to pay for it on your Said price. I am Contacting you in great confidence hoping that you are a very reliable and trustworthy person and therefore would be helpful to me.

My name is Dr.Abdal Malik, a Medical Doctor by profession / volunteer and a member of the Red Cross, I am from Syria. I contacted you because of the sanctions imposed by the United States and the European Union, Which prevent us from Securing our financial transaction here.

I have the sum of 2.7 million euros Which I discovered in my brother's save ground, my late brother Mizrahi Abdal, who was killed in the al-Omari Mosque Massacre. He was a very successful contractor in Kuwaiti Oil city and was privately dealing on gold dust and bars before his untimely death.

The ongoing civil unrest in my country Syria have changed my future and if we come to a concrete agreement i will send the money to you for safe keeping till i make my way and come to meet you in your country very soon, i will need the  property? and that is why i contacted you, please help me to achieve achievement this.

I will give you 15% of the total money (2.7million euros) for your assistance / participation. I hope I am been fair on this deal.

Where i am now we can only communicate through the Red Cross communication facilities which only permits me to send emails and we can not make phone calls now because no network at Bab al salaam area since it what blocked by the government.

Please if you are interested in helping me in this transaction i will give to you the complete details you need for us to carry out this transaction successfully. I have a very good means of sending the money out of Syria to your country with the help of a red cross jet that brings relief materials from Europe. Please, you are in a position to help me start a new life. I have already lost my wife and my 12 year old daughter in the chemical attack when i went to work to save the lives of other people. Please my life is in danger in the hands of Asaad military and ISIS terrorist.

I would owe you my life if you help me. I wait for your fast response so i can give you further details upon hearing from you. Please reserve the  property? for me and consider my request for our mutual benefit and life ahead.

Best Regards

Dr.Abdal Malik

[end message]

Am I an alarmist? I think not. Do a search on these keywords--phishing scam Syria--and you will, for example, omit address and phone number from your email signature . . . among other things.

---
* Comments on the phishing I. D. image above.

-----BEGIN PGP MESSAGE-----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=sr0G
-----END PGP MESSAGE-----

 (Key to decryption included--request if not obvious.)

[end original post]

National archetype

Krampus is one name for what the Bavarians around Munich call Ruprecht and the Czechs call Cert (diacritic missing but pronounced as one syllable, ch-eh-r-t). I have been fascinated with the fascination here with Cert and his devil's horns. I swear the Czechs constantly call up this archetype.

The idea of Ruprecht (without horns) and Cert (with horns) (I have lived in both places they haunt) is that he, this archetype, is the dark sidekick of St. Nicholas who visits small children at home or at school in early December. The dark one is dressed like the devil with black and shabby clothes and coal-smudged face. In Germany he even brings pieces of coal indicating the reward reserved for naughty children. The German one actually threatens by making noise, bashing a long switch to the floor or ground, and so on. Germans! The Czech one merely attends the saint, as far as I have observed. I am sure there are variations galore in this corner of Europe, but that is the idea: scare the little buggers into behaving.

My fascination is that no matter what time of year, this pair of horns appears in the Czech lands--women, men, children and in the imagery one can see during the course of just living and being here. I think there is something to this . . . I point out to Czech acquaintances they live in the fish bowl swimming as fish; whereas, I am the outsider, a witness, and can observe more objectively. My arguments never hold water on this subject with what can't be seen by one living in the culture.

At a farmer's market last fall, one of the vendors was wearing the horns. And on the way to the market, a billboard advertising something like insurance or banking, there she was, a model dressed to the nines with the red horns. Too sexy to be threatening, but nonetheless. Perhaps it's like the yellow car. Once you notice one, there are countless yellow cars.

But I swear. It is an image and ornament everywhere. Perhaps I should become more scientific about my hypothesis, which dates from my first years, early 90s, in the Czech Republic. Would locals then believe me? Nah.

Now I see a movie is out with another twist on the archetype. Krampus. It looks cute but I don't think historically accurate per the traditions observed around here, Bohemia and Bavaria.

Moving on a bit, because I took a shower and got to thinking. _Devil_ is _lived_ spelled backwards, and the joy and growth and evolution and sex that one word may represent is an opposite to repression (arrestation?) devolution, degeneracy, bad stuff, taboo. And of course, the old cuckold joke, which persists even today in places like  Italy. All those cornettoes and hand gesture referring to same, what else, taboo sex? Also of course, we can't forget the Czech word for black, černý. And then there is char-coal. I'm kind of tempting myself with riff-type free association, but I will let you take it from here. Except to say when/if you visit in these parts, a key to Czech culture is "naughty but nice".

Describes Czech women, don't it? Shhh! Whisper not a word I said that.

Good Muther, good night

[Along with an Easter gift, a personal headlamp, for my grandson.]

Yeah!
for Cruz

A little light to put on your head,
so you can say, "Good Muther, good night,"
and later sneak-read cosy in bed.

Or you and sis can explore about
without any fear--the dark hates light.
Because there's nothing like going out!



[Along with an Easter gift, a pocket notebook, for my granddaughter.]

Beddy bye
for Lola

Here's a little book
you can read when you're twenty.
Yes, empty right now
but you know there is plenty
of things that you do,
and things that just happen
worth noting and making a note.
So start now--everything's ready.
Life won't stand still
for children before beddy.