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Martian Elephants

      I exhibited Martian elephants, at the pleasure grounds        where the bands and circus played.       No clowning for us, but a great feat of science,       from dream to plan, with tool and appliance,       some 25 years of traveling in place,       then a carbon-based Elevator to take us to space.       Geodesic dome-home and dust-devil friends,       six-eighty days (or a year) (it depends).       Then found them! and quickly discussed guest disgust:       No hunting, no chains; their family united,       no cages at all, for they were invited.       Between worlds we flew, and, taking our cue,       planetary break, from red on to blue        Greatest Show on Earth! The posters went up.       One time only! A mile from this station!       Free parking, free programmes, three groats a head,       fifty pence extra to see them all fed!       St John, Old Bill, and The Queen's PCA,       Sol with his hat on, to brighten the day.        Pleasure to share miracle existence!  
Recent posts

The Invisible Collage : how language is pasted onto the most basic surfaces of our thoughts.

col·lage   (kō-läzh′, kə-) n. 1. a. An artistic composition of materials and objects pasted over a surface, often with unifying lines and color. b. A work, such as a literary piece, composed of both borrowed and original material      What?                                                                                                     Which.....?                                             What kind of....?                        Who?               Where? Whose?     How?   Why ?            To see a World in a Grain of Sand And a Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Eternity in an hour                                                                                    - William Blake               The astonishing worlds and heavens and infinities of human  la

Cleopatra, a cowboy, then screaming!. - How we understand things.

“We, ignorant of ourselves, Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers Deny us for our good; so find we profit By losing of our prayers.”                 “Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, And we are for the Dark. ” ― William Shakespeare, Antony and Cleopatra   Cleopatra, a cowboy, then....screaming!       Presented with this information, how does the brain deal with it? Necessarily, the brain must deal with it as it does with all information:                                 Information -------------> Idea        Consequently, you might sort it out like this:                        Cleopatra   --------------> Queen Of Egypt                        A cowboy   --------------> Tom Mix                       Screaming! --------------> Expressing a strong emotional state         And then, in an example of the fundamentally creative aspect of basic communication, our brains start to fill in the blanks, to describe and e

Ideas in Tesol (s) : Michael Jackson isn't dead. - How we make a sentence

        "Not everything that is more difficult is more meritorious"                                                                                          Thomas Aquinas        Michael Jackson's mortal remains are reportedly buried in an unmarked grave at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Hollywood. Probably. Because there were other reports that he had been cremated.        Perhaps surprisingly and certainly disappointingly, there were no reports that he had worked his way out of his tomb to perform formation dancing along with other residents of the cemetery.        Otherwise, and somewhat inevitably, there are people who insist that Mr Jackson isn't dead at all.        In fact, I do not wish to argue over the final resting place of one famous person's bones, nor do I intend to offer evidence to prove that the singing star faked his own death and now lives out his days happily under an alias. What I would actually like to do is to exhume the skel

The Weight of Steel with Much Greater Elasticity.

The ancient Celtic people had a folktale about a fly. It went like this:         The first fly was created by the first god from a fragment of cloud and a half-pebble, and as she moulded its tiny frame in her hands she put her breath on it and gave it life.           The little fly became aware and asked: "What should I do?"           The first god said: "You are tasked with touching everything. Take wing and fly everywhere and unto everything. Love all, and appreciate that joy and wonder resides both in the look of a princess and the ordure of pigs, in the opening of a flower and the closing of the grave.  And most importantly, you must fly true and honest and never lie."           The fly became the happiest and most honest little creature that ever there was. It served creation's purpose with great pride and strove with all its airy might to connect and venerate all things.          One day, the fly met a creature and stopped in wonder. The fly coul

The Revenge of The Bicameral Brain!

I bet they wished they hadn't bothered.       Hitler, like you or me, had a brain that operated in the same basic way as any ; that is to say, on the most basic principle of: Information -------------------> Idea. For example, presented with the information of the movie poster above, you would probably envisage Nazi scientists gathered around a tank* of fluid, in which is kept alive the titular thinking organ. You would, however, be wrong:                                                                    They saved Hitler's head and shoulders.                               Of course, any movie offering this title would not instill in the prospective movie-goer the necessary sense of horror, dread and creepy interest, and quite possibly would suggest that someone had managed to dig out Der Fuhrer's old shampoo bottle.** Which is not quite the same thing.        Anyway, as the brain works most basically as info -----------> idea , it turns out that a