Archive | July, 2010

Desolation in the Land of Logic

July 31, 2010

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Try prying the lid off the mind of the enlightened and open-minded. Discover their pitch-black darkness while they spray clichés like squid’s ink.

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The Freedom To Give Up Everything

July 22, 2010

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My family’s heart palpitates whenever I rant about how we should sell our suburban home and move into a tarpaper shack – and no one heeds my call for a nation-wide tarpaper shack movement: Dump those monster homes. Get rid of possessing possessions in a world where former luxuries are now strangling “needs.”

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The Antidote For Our Cultural Poison

July 15, 2010

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Alan Simpson sees the acid running in our culture’s veins: “No one forgives anyone for anything anymore. People get angry just for disagreeing with them.” He tossed in AA wisdom during a Newsweek interview in April: “If you can’t forgive a person, it’s like letting them live in your head rent-free.”

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Singing the praises of stubborn mules who carried rifles that looked like clarinets

July 2, 2010

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Puritans are now viewed as grim, witch-burning anti-intellectuals ready to leap from the bushes and pin scarlet letters on innocent hikers. So you can imagine my plight: I want to look past their foibles. I want to celebrate their heritage on this July 4th and see their contributions, fully aware of the skeletons rattling in their closets.

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Enfield: When The Attack Dogs Come To Town, Part 3

July 1, 2010

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There’s an invisible trail in Enfield, Connecticut. Call it the path of “What-ifs?” leading to “Might-Have-Beens.”

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Enfield: When The Attack Dogs Come To Town, Part 2

July 1, 2010

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I’ve met Peter Wolfgang, the Executive Director of The Family Institute of Connecticut, and I can’t help but like him, but … except … well … but … But … I’m falling back on typical language used in reference to the FIC: We support the FIC, but … We agree with the FIC, but … We endorse the FIC full hog, but … but … but … but … But the FIC scatters exclamation points on its web site like peanut shells in a zoo’s elephant cage; but Peter Wolfgang forever hyperventilates; but he cannot see that today’s adversary might be tomorrow’s friend; but Peter sees no gray areas, only black and white – and those suggesting gray fail to see that gray is a shade of black.

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