Yearly Archives: 2012

W E Patterson's avatar

Key West New Year’s Eve

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Like a pearl at the end of the chain,

Not a nasty lady, but a sleepy refuge for the believers,

Tempting the willing with a feeble sense of time,

Sodden revelers awash in sensory devoid pleasure,

Some for the first time – for others just more of every time,

Living for the day, the last day, any day, soaked in party clothes,

Shelter from last year’s treasure lost, and locked,

In memories soon to be swept from view in a green flash,

Of briefest measure, green light from the last day,

In a flash over Sunset Island, like sunsets of glorious days past,

Sometimes seen, sometimes appreciated and remembered,

Other times best watched through an upside down glass,

An old timer, very pickled – at a polished bar had a vision,

He saw Papa, once – walking quickly up Duval –  too quickly,

Up past Sloppy Joe’s – he pays attention to no one,

Long night, hat pulled low, heading home to Whitehead Street,

Before day totters in on a Seabreeze, living for the last one,

Seeking one more before the rum soaked night pecks away at you,

Stop to see the Duval trannies, in high heel shoes, clothes too tight,

Watch them blow overblown kisses to strangers waiting for the end,

For that last day, at twelve it begins anew,

For the pleasure of those who come to trumpet, see it in,

Some dangerous consequences down here at the end,

Socked away and forgotten.

W E Patterson's avatar

Thoughts on today’s tragedy in Connecticut

. Gun control, Uncategorized . , . 1 Comment

Earlier today, as I was having my first cup of coffee, I came across some inspiring words written by my favorite theologian, Huston Smith. Smith’s words appeared in the banner of my daily planner for today, December 14th, 2012. So inspired was I, by Smith’s uplifting words, that I abandoned the post I was currently working on, a post calling for federal government restrictions on certain types of firearms. So thinking this ‘gun post’ would keep for awhile, I began work on a post in which I intended to impart some  great words of wisdom from H. Smith…

…both posts now lie on the hard drive of my laptop, incomplete and unlikely to be finished any time soon. The tragic events of today have seen to that.

After the senseless shootings in Connecticut, even the most well crafted words of the world’s greatest theologian ring hollow, and any discussion of gun control would be akin to a discussion of life-boat safety in the wake of the Titanic sinking.

So, unable to post either, I will post this one:

In the upcoming days we will hear a call for change. If you attend movies, shop in a mall, send your children to schools, or drive on a freeway, you should listen closely to this call, because if you don’t you may not hear again for a very, very long time.

And don’t worry:

This call will not be a call for sportsmen to turn over their shotguns to jack-booted thugs. Nor will it involve any of you folks (who by the friggin’ gazillions), have applied for, and have received, concealed weapons permits – your weaponry is safe.

There will be a call for some common sense in what kind of weapons we allow people to possess.

And by the way, now that I think of it I think they did begin to discuss life-boat safety issues very soon after the Titanic sank.

W E Patterson's avatar

Thoughts on Winter Storm Caesar

. Life . , , , , , , . Leave a comment

I felt bad about the way I’d left things with Rita. The last time we talked, I found out that she’d taken a job at the Thief River Falls  ____ Mart, a place she’d vowed to never enter, let alone work — under any condition.

Anyway, I was a little abrupt with her the last time we spoke, because she had in fact, taken a job at the aforementioned super-store, at least until after the holidays, and later on, I felt bad about being so judgmental, so I wanted to apologize. Besides, earlier in the day, I’d gotten a tweet from The Weather Channel telling me that Winter Storm Caesar was bearing down on the Northern Plains, and I was worried about her and J.L.

When I called her cell, J.L. answered. “Rita leaves her phone at home now when she goes to work,” he told me. “She was getting into too much trouble for making calls on the job.”

“That’s a shame,” I said, “especially with Caesar heading your way?”

“Who?”

“Caesar…you know about Caesar don’t you.”

“Sure,” he said, “the pizza guy.”

“No, not Little Caesar – Winter Storm Caesar.”

I then had to explain to J.L that The Weather Channel is now naming winter storms in much the same way North American hurricanes are named. No wimpy names for these storms either – if you haven’t been paying attention, prior to Caesar we’ve had Winter Storm Athena and Winter Storm Brutus. And Winter Storm Draco is next (I think that’s the Latin word for ‘dragon’)…yikes…these winter storm names are intended to scare the bejeezus out of you.

So the first time I heard of winter storm naming, I thought it was just exactly that – scare tactics designed to alarm the public. Damn that National Weather Service I said to myself. Then I found out that the NWS wasn’t behind this at all. In fact, it was The Weather Channel (TWC) – that stalwart bastion of cable distributed meteorological information. It seems that in order to make things easier for us online geeks, TWC came up with the idea of naming winter storms to help make them easier for us to track. They know  that most of us are too consumed by our Twitter feed and our Facebook pages on our iPad or smart-phone to actually tune into a local weather broadcast to get the skinny on any upcoming disasters. Apparently notifying the general public that a blizzard is descending upon them from the northern reaches of Canada, and within 24 hours they may well be buried under 47 inches of snow, driven by blinding hurricane force winds is not dramatic enough content for the TWC.

From TWC website:

“The fact is, a storm with a name is easier to follow, which will mean fewer surprises and more preparation.”

To this I can only add an emphatic: Huh?

Let us begin our search for the Truth, by taking a quick look at the assigned names for the remaining winter storms this season:

Euclid

Freyr

Gandolf

Helen

Iago

Jove

Khan

Luna

Magnus

Nemo

Orko

Plato

Q (yes, just plain Q)

Rocky

Saturn

Triton

Ukko

Virgil

Walda

Xerxes

Yogi

Zeus (My personal favorite – this one is destined to bury half of North American under a glacier)

Think about these names and what they imply when you hear them over the course of the next few weeks and months. Couple these threatening names with the fact that TWC embarked upon this winter storm naming program without consulting any other private or public weather forecasting organization and things begin to sound mighty fishy. This was evidenced by the fact that as the massive nor’easter, dubbed “Winter Storm Athena” threatened New England the National Weather Service issued a directive to all of its personnel to NOT use this name in any of its bulletins and broadcasts.

Now I know some of my more weather savvy readers will say, “ha, ha  Trop, don’t you know they’ve been naming winter storms in Europe for the past fifty years?”

And I’ll say right back, “Yes, I know that o’ Weather Savvy Reader. But this isn’t Europe. We do things kinda different over here in the U. S. of A.”

Normally, I am not one to jump on every conspiracy theory bandwagon,  but I think something is going on here with this storm naming business, and I don’t like it. Insurance companies are increasingly using the “named storm” clause in insurance policies for all kinds of things, including when new policies can be written and what damages are covered.

So a few years hence, when you’re speaking to your insurance agent regarding a claim you’d like to file, as on Friday of last, while on your way home from work in a blinding snowstorm, your classic 1953 Austin Healy roadster skidded off the roadway, cleanly shearing down to stumps, six poplar saplings and removing fifty yards of rail fencing, before both you and a piping hot cup of Starbucks cappuccino were propelled into the windscreen, doing calamitous damage to both classic vehicle, your dental work, and your finest Holland Cooper tweed jacket, don’t be surprised when your agent tells you:

“Tisk tisk. Sorry Dr. Gravestares, but I’m afraid you’re not covered.”

“Not covered,” you’ll retort, sitting bolt upright in your hospital bed.

“I’m afraid claims filed for accidents that occurred during Winter Storm Dracula are not covered under your policy. Good heavens man, didn’t you get the Tweet?”

Just sayin…

Mahalo

Trop

W E Patterson's avatar

Does Obama want my guns?? I mean, does he really??

. Uncategorized . . 1 Comment

A few days after The Election, I ran into a friend of mine at the Deerfield Mall. My friend (I’ll call him Jason – not his real name), was a Romney supporter, and although I vowed not to mention The Election to him (or any other Romney supporters), purely out of respect, he was obviously still upset about the outcome and he didn’t waste any time telling me how much.

“So how are things, Jason,” I said, suddenly realizing my faux pas in these emotionally charged post-election days.

He shook his head. “Not good Trop. Not since the other day.”

“Yes, about the other day…”

“I’m mighty upset about the election.”

“I see.”

“This is Obama’s second term and he’s got nothing to lose now,” he said that staring at the sidewalk.

“Nothing to lose? How so?”

“He’s coming for our guns Trop, that’s what. I give it a year…maybe two years, tops, before this country busts out in an all out shootout to defend our second amendment rights.”

“You think Obama wants that antique blunderbuss you have hanging over your mantle,” I said. “You should pay HIM to take it. It probably hasn’t been fired since President Grant was in the White House.”

“That’s why I’m buying an AR-15.”

“An AR-15! You really think…”

“And 500 rounds to start with.”

So that’s how the conversation went. I went away shaking my head, and I soon forgot our conversation until the other day, when I ran across an article about an Arizona gunstore that had banned from the premises, anyone who voted for Obama. For those who are too busy to click the link, Cope Reynolds, owner of Southwest Shooting Authority in Pinecrest, Arizona also posted a sign in his store that reads:

“If you voted for Obama, please turn around and leave! You have proven you are not responsible enough to own a firearm. Thank you, The Management”

Could we be talking about the same Obama? Is this the same Obama who received ‘failing grades’ on the gun control issue from the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence? Could this be the same Obama who signed legislation that now allows people to pack their shootin’ iron not only in National Parks, but on an Amtrak train as well!

Dang, I don’t know. Does the Prez really want our guns?  It seems as if there are just as many guns as ever, at least here in South Florida, even after all of these Obama years. And mind you, I’m not anti-gun at all. I’m a supporter of the second amendment – always have been and always will be. But I can’t for the life of me (no pun intended), understand why the need for the really high power weaponry?

Need a fully automatic weapon? Drop me a line in the comments and let’s discuss.

Mahalo

Trop

W E Patterson's avatar

Countdown to the END on December 21?

. Out there, The End . , . Leave a comment

The other morning, I watched with great interest a news report on the upcoming, much hyped, “End of the World”. Of course, I have played into the hype in my own miniscule way – note the countdown clock on the right hand side of your screen. The date in question, December 21st, 2012, is the end of the Mayan Long Count Calendar. Some say the world will end that day in some sort of global cataclysm. According to the news report, NASA is besieged with inquiries. People want the down-low on the END, and who best to answer that question than the space guys themselves. Assuming the END will come from out of the sky with our little planet taking it head-on with an asteroid or comet, then the NASA guys are the ones who ought to know. The Near Earth Asteroid Tracking (NEAT) team, under the auspices of the U.S. Air Force has been tracking nearby asteroids and comets for years. The last time I checked, the only civilization altering object in our neighborhood, an asteroid scheduled for a flyby in 2028, has now been re-categorized by NEAT, and now poses no danger at all to us.

According to the news reports though, some folks are not convinced. They’re stocking up on provisions – food, medical supplies, and most importantly ammunition. Some people don’t want to be caught under a five hundred foot tidal-wave unless they are well armed.

Besides creating a group of paranoid adults, the December 21st date is causing countless school-children (much more understandably), to lie awake nights worrying about the END, instead of focusing on Christmas 4 days later.

Perhaps the children would feel better about things if they were told that the Mayan Long Count Calendar consists of a timekeeping system started (roughly) around 3114 B.C.E. Since we know that it is impossible that the earth was formed at this early date we must ask ourselves if these Mayans are all that reliable in the first place. They seem to know when it all ends, but they have no idea when it started – no creditability I say.

The Mayan Calendar is divided into 394 year periods called baktuns. On, or around, December 21st of this year, the calendar will have completed its 13th baktun. While the number 13 held special significance to the Mayans, there is still little evidence that the calendar ends on December 21st  because after that time we shall have no more need for calendars!

Listen to the Mayans themselves. Present day Mayan priest, Miguel Angel Vergara, says the December 21st date is not to be feared. Instead he says, we should welcome the end of the Mayan calendar. According to Mr. Vergara, on or somewhere around, December 21st, we will be entering a time of great spiritual transition as mankind throws off the shackles of “greed and darkness”. Ah…so that’s what all this hokey-pokey is all about.

So you see…it may not be that bad.

Personally, I’m not so sure that I buy into the fact that shaking the shackles of greed and darkness is any more likely than getting struck by an errant comet.

Still, you never know. On November 26, New York City reported, for the first time in as long as police can recall, no one was murdered, shot, or stabbed during a 24 hour period. There was, as I understand, some sporadic gunfire but apparently nobody was hit.

It is a start.

W E Patterson's avatar

Nine degrees

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Yesterday, I got a call from Rita. I hadn’t heard from her since before The Election. The last I knew, she and husband J.L. were finalizing their plans to move up to Yellowknife, in the Canadian Northwest, in the event of a Romney victory. She called me from the Thief River Falls, Minnesota location of one of America’s largest discount Super Stores.

“I didn’t think they’d even have a ____-Mart in Thief River Falls,” I said. Then I thought for a moment as I remembered a conversation I’d had with her a year or two before.

“And speaking of which,” I went on, “why are you shopping there? Didn’t you tell me once that you were boycotting them because of their deplorable disregard for their workers? You know, low pay, no benefits for part timers, charges of racial and gender discrimination, and the big time issues you had with them about their foreign product sourcing, to say nothing of the way their cut rate pricing often undermines small local businesses and ravages communities.”

“Yeah, well,” she said. “That was then.”

“So?”

“So we were living in Hialeah when I told you that. This is Minnesota and it’s getting cold. J.L and I need long-johns and parkas and mittens. And since we don’t have any money we need all the doorbuster deals we can find. This is the only place we can afford to shop.”

“I see,” I said, “sacrificing principals for material goods? Putting it on the backs of the workers? Do you know,” I told her, “that each one of those stores employs an average of 200 workers, and in terms of unpaid benefits costs the American taxpayer over four hundred thousand dollars per store, and…”

“Oh stuff it, Trop,” she said, suddenly sounding irritated. “I still care about the workers, but it’s going down to nine degrees tonight. That’s a nine without a zero after it for you Floridians – as in NINE FRIGGIN’ DEGREES, Trop.”

“That’s cold all right.”

“You have NO idea. So I don’t need you preaching to me about the American Worker, while you’re poolside at the Intercontinental with a Mai-tai in hand, tapping out your blog, or whatever else you write to make a living.”

“You know I’m not at the Intercontinental.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, “but you may as well be. You’re not here in Minnesota, and it is friggin’ cold, and I’m pregnant, and Jeffry Louis hasn’t worked in…so long I can’t remember, and the Scion needs tires and Jesus I’m exhausted.”

“I can loan you a few bucks,” I said. “It couldn’t be too much for a set of tires for the Scion.”

Long silence…

“Westhammer, aisle 3.” I head the voice clearly. Then it came again: “Rita…off the cell,ok.”

“Who’s with you Rita,” I asked.

“It’s Jamie, I gotta go.”

“Jamie?”

“My manager.”

“Oh no, you didn’t.”

“It’s just until after the holidays, Trop. I gotta go…”

W E Patterson's avatar

Cyber Monday

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On the news this morning, I was reminded of the fact that today is Cyber Monday. A news reporter, live from one of the Phoenix, Arizona distribution centers of well-known Amazon.com, was reporting from a massive warehouse. Behind her ran an endless conveyor, zigzagging through the massive warehouse in which an army of workers toiled to keep a seemingly endless stream of various shaped boxes and parcels on course, rolling down the endless conveyer.

The conveyor ends, presumably, at some equally cavernous room in which the endless packages are fork-lifted onto an endless fleet of tractor-trailer trucks and step vans and eventually into the bellies of endless turbo-props and 757s and 767s and two dozen or so other types of short hop to long-haul aircraft. If we could see a bit past landing, we would find an endless number of welcome consumers, from Kalamazoo to Amsterdam, all receiving packages exactly as they ordered them from the comfort of their home/office/coffee shop.

Note the intentional over-use of the word ‘endless’ in the preceding paragraphs.

Some of you who know me are saying right now:

“I know where this is going. Poor old Trop, bless his heart. He’s probably pining for the days when kids got electric train sets and hand knitted sweaters for Christmas. Wonder what he’s getting his wife this year – a bolt of gingham cloth and a pearl hatpin?”

To this I say, nothing could be further from the truth. I have been a loyal customer of the aforementioned online distributor for many years. I embrace online buying for three basic reasons. First, it saves me time – time that I can use to make money; second, the products are often cheaper thus saving me money; third, I don’t have to drive anywhere which saves me more money. So you can see that I am far from being a baret-wearing, latte-sipping, pseudo-intellectual, Ivy League-educated, limousine-liberal, anti-capitalist. Far from it!!!

What I don’t like, however, are marketing ploys and thus my discomfort with ‘Cyber Monday’ (I have the same issue with ‘Black Friday’, but since it’s gone by I won’t bother to talk about it).

Cyber Monday was started back in 2005 by the U.S. National Retail Association to drive traffic to their website Shop.org. It didn’t catch on right away. By 2009, things changed. In that year 52.7% of the money spent on Cyber Monday came from employees making online purchases from their workplace. In a 2010 study conducted by Purdue University, an estimated 1 billion dollars was lost in worker productivity due to internet bargain-surfing workers. By 2010 Cyber Monday had officially won the title of the biggest online sales day of the year with a whopping $1.02 billion in sales. 2011 sales increased that figure by 22%. I won’t venture a guess as to what this year’s sales will amount to but I am thinking ‘record breaker’.

So I love online buying, but I am more than a little bit resentful of Cyber Monday. But, I am never one to force my beliefs on the masses. The rest of you can have at it…pound away on those keyboards…enter those credit card numbers with glee and await the arrival of your books and CDs and electric coffee makers and cocktail shakers and Thomas Kinkade holiday collectables. I shall not bear any ill will toward you, o’ Cyber Monday enthusiasts. But for me, my keyboard shall remain idle – until tomorrow.

W E Patterson's avatar

What’s up with me since the election

. Politics . 1 Comment

“Your online presence is beginning to fade.” Those were the first words out of Tulip’s mouth when she called me yesterday morning from the largest big-box store in southern California.

“It’s good to hear from you too,” I shot back at her, and then I said, “what about my online presence?”

“You haven’t posted a word since The Election…you know the one you were so worried about just a couple of weeks ago. What happened to you…the Prez got reelected, no problem, and you dropped off the blogosphere like there was nothing left to discuss in the whole big United States…there’s a big ole’ fiscal cliff out there in case you haven’t been paying attention and wars bustin’ out all over and…?”

I cut her off. “I was busy with a paying gig. Blogs don’t pay too well, and I have people who actually pay me to write stuff. I guess I was just too wrapped up in keeping the lights on down here in the 954. Jeez Tulip, my cable bill alone is almost a fiscal cliff, cut me some slack.”

I mean, I really wanted to blog. I wanted to take time out to describe what a mess yet another election became, and still is, here in the Sunshine State, but the folks that put cash into my checking account twice a month once again won over my dedication to a timely blog.

So here, directly out of my blog notebook, are my handwritten notes, transcribed verbatim, regarding all of the blog topics that did not get written this month:

  1. Wed. 11/7 — Have we Floridians really managed to botch another election? Was it really necessary for us to be saddled with a ten page ballot that (apparently) took forever to scan?
  2. Thurs. 11/8 — Address Republican voter fraud paranoia. Include fact that of 22 million votes cast in Florida in the past 12 years, the Florida Department of Law Enforcement has received only 175 complaints of voter fraud…complaints that have led to a whopping 11 convictions.
  3. Fri. 11/9 – Nation still does not know which candidate won Florida. Few probably care at this point. Might blog about why the (Republican) Florida legislature, overturned the long-standing law that allowed voters who had changed their home address to vote after they swear under oath that their new address is correct. Such voters were allowed to cast only ‘provisional ballots’ that could not be counted until after the voter’s eligibility was proven.
  4. Sun. 11/11 Why did the 2011 Florida Legislature prioritize changes to the election laws that made voting more difficult for students and minorities.
  5. Sat. 11/16 — Blog about Mayan End Age on December 21st. Emphasize that both Mayan and Hopi Indians consider the End Age to be a time of transition, not of global cataclysm. According to noted Mayan shaman, Miguel Angel Vergara, “the cosmos is talking to us – we need to listen.”

“So you can look for some blogs coming your way soon,” I told Tulip. “Now that things have settled down a bit.” It was then that I noticed the time. “Hey,” I said. “It’s only 5:15AM on the west coast. What are you doing up?”

“It’s Black Friday, sweetie,” said Tulip. I could hear tension in her voice. “I been in line since 11:30 last night.”

“Black Friday,” I said. “I didn’t think you went in for all that blatant consumerism.”

“I don’t,” she replied. “But I ain’t nuts. How else am I gonna buy a 60 inch flat screen  TV set for 69 bucks.”

That’s Tulip. And this is me…

Mahalo

Trop

W E Patterson's avatar

My final post before Election Day 2012; Rita texts me from Thief River Falls

. Politics . , , , , , . 1 Comment

I am promising myself that this will be my final blog regarding the U.S. Presidential election of 2012. My words here will serve little purpose, beyond being an outlet for my own frustration and confusion.  As I listen to the pundits, and the poll takers, and the lovely television anchor ladies, and to all of the great talkers of our day, describe an election as “too close to predict”, I can only shake my head in disbelief. Can it be, I say to myself almost daily, that this many people are going to get it wrong – and if they do, I fear the surprise that may await them.

I have noted the date of August 14, 2012 as the day that my misunderstanding of Presidential politics became apparent, leaving me only with dogged misgivings and doubts about our future as a nation – these feelings too would wane, leaving me with a state of mind I can only call: Chronic Confusion (or, in current text messaging parlance, “wtf”). For it was on this day that I witnessed (via television), U.S. Republican candidate Mitt Romney, standing shoulder to shoulder with a lineup of worshipping Ohio coal miners. My first reaction was that it must be a comedy skit, staged by some clever Obama operative out to show the world just how out of touch the Republican candidate is with the working man.

After all, didn’t the mine owners of years past fight tooth and toenail against any federal regulations that would impose health and safety regulations (and thus cut profits) on their mines? Certainly these miners must know that CEOs like Mr. Romney, a man whose own taste for corporate profits leaves little to the imagination, could have any empathy or understanding of workers who toil beneath the surface of Ohio, drilling and blasting and shoveling and bringing to the surface great heaps of carbonized carbon. It is not work for the faint of heart.

How could it be then, I asked myself on August 14, 2012, that this group of miners could take the stage with such a man – they, dressed for work in a mine, and Mr. Romney in shirtsleeves with the same slick-CEO look in his eyes that I’ve seen in the eyes of other slick CEOs as they’ve taken to other stages to distribute awards and commendations to unwitting employees, while at the same time, office space was being readied in India and China for their replacements.

“The Federal Government has sold you a bill of goods with those expensive gas monitors,” I could almost hear Mr. Romeny say. “Your grandfathers’ used canaries. And they were hardworking men who didn’t need some slack-jawed Beltway bureaucrat coming out here to Ohio to tell you guys how to run a mine. The money saved on those expensive gadgets can go right into your pockets.”

Or something like that.

My friend Rita, who is at this moment living up in Thief River Falls, Minnesota, poised to make a run for the Canadian border with her husband and unborn child feels that a Romney/Ryan victory would be eclipsed only by a polar shift, or asteroid strike in terms of creating global disaster. I am not so sure about that. But I do hear the drumbeats of war. Not since the late GWB have I felt so uneasy about a presidency leading us into another conflict – this time, perhaps Iran?

Rita sent me a text the other night, from the Thief River Falls Wal Mart where she was busy stocking up on disposable diapers for the trip North:

“j L sas Rmny vic in the bag now”

Rita has trouble texting, but I know it meant that her husband J.L. thinks that Romney has it locked up.

“would n’t B 2 sure” I replied.

We shall all see on Tuesday.

W E Patterson's avatar

On Poe; Hurricane Sandy; and the US Election

. Politics, What I'm Reading . Leave a comment

When I left you last, dear readers, I included a link in my blog to a short story by Edgar Allan Poe. As I mentioned, Poe is one of my favorite writers of the short story, perhaps one of the true and great masters. The link that I attached was to one of my favorites, Manuscript Found in a Bottle. The story was first published on October 19, 1833, by the The Baltimore Saturday Visiter (Visitor), when Poe was 34 years of age and in his writing prime. If you should think otherwise – that this story was written by a drunkard, or a writer of status of any less than genius, consider only the opening two lines:

“Of my country and of my family I have little to say. Ill usage and length of years have driven me from the one, and estranged me from the other.”

–Edgar Allan Poe

The writing style is not contemporary.  But the story resonates with voice that is seldom heard these days. Poe’s led a short and tragic life.  A marriage to a 13 year old cousin, who died suddenly of tuberculosis in January of 1842, sent the writer on a drinking binge that would continue until his eventual, untimely and tragic death in 1849.

Remarkably, Poe’s poem ‘The Raven’, first published in 1845, would earn him only nine dollars, but would emblazon his name into the hearts and minds of horror genre fans for the next century and a half.

So read some Poe this season.

*

It appears, that the recent weather events in the Northeastern U.S., in the wake of Hurricane Sandy has left all of our friends and family safe and well, and for that we are thankful. The damage, however, looks frightful.

*

When I blog again, o’ readers, it will be to beckon all to the polls as the grim night of the United States Presidential election bears down upon all good souls and we cast our votes for whomever we deem most worthy – the one who will lead us to the light in the face of darkness – the one who will remain vigilant as we sleep – perhaps the one who will rebuff the neocons who would lead us into another devastating war in the mid-east.

To that end, I shall leave all with one of my favorite quotes – and no, it is not from Poe. I cannot take credit for it either;  in fact I can’t seem to find its author, but make of it what you will as we near the final days before the U.S. Presidential Election:

“Confidence is the feeling that you have before you completely understand the situation.”