Category Archives: mp3

old year/ new

Q: why?

Last Week at Work

I thought last week would be easy. I expected a quiet workplace with most activities on hold and many people (including my supervisor) gone.

Not to be. Life comes at you fast. Best to slow it down from the inside, the outside not being reliable.

I guess the most shocking thing was that someone killed themselves. Someone I knew. Someone I had seen earlier in that same day. Someone who appeared to be in a better mood than usual.

It isn’t like this is an odd occurrence here. It’s happened a couple times before since I’ve been working here. It’s still very hard on people. I spent a lot of time hanging out with folks who were especially effected. Mostly just being available. Some wanted to talk, some wanted to sit next to someone who understood.

The effects were not contained just within the ward where the suicide happened. Lots of people knew the woman. She’s been there awhile. She’s wanted to die for as long as anyone remembers.

The building where it happened. Top floor, Unit 50 I.

Another event, a much better one, came at midweek; also unexpected. On Monday I met someone who was new- that is new to the environment where I work. They found themselves locked up through December and their landlord sent a letter saying that they were throwing out her stuff, cleaning out her room and… well, tough luck landing in psychiatric prison.

I was able to take a state car up to Portland and along with a very nice nurse we went through the garbage in the compactor room and saved, retrieved much of her stuff. Probably the unit staff will throw most of it out but we got her some clothes, some personal papers and many many technical manuals in English and Chinese. We did not find some of the papers she wanted- her citizenship documents.

In the new hospital there will not be any real storage room to speak of. An oversight, I guess. But it means that people admitted here will basically lose everything.

Enough about work. There were several good moments and many useful ones.

Some of What I’ve Been Thinking

The wave of fear has strong momentum but if you stop pushing it, it subsides.  So maybe I don’t need to worry about fear, although it’s hold on me still scares me 😉  -It dies of starvation when I’m done feeding it.

My most intrusive fears have to do with my sense of self-worth. I’ve a sneaking suspicion that I’m not okay- not adequate, not acceptable. It comes out in interpersonal communication when somebody is angry with me or thinks the worst of me. Not always, just sometimes. I’m trying to be aware- this seems to help. When I see what it is I can stop pushing the wave.

I half know my connection with everything. I say “half” because I notice it only intermittently and I’m often completely oblivious. When I look, it emerges from the edges of my self-perception- my wholeness withing the world is made real through the very same spaces/ surfaces/ thoughts that separate me. For example: My skin would seem to be both my boundary and my bridge to the world. Same thing for eyes/ vision, sound, speech, breath… I can’t really speak this adequately so it’s time to stop.

“I felt a suddenness.”

Maybe I’m not done- I am falling slowly through an intangible screen. The screen is the surface upon which the movie of time is being played/ shown. Behind the screen is the light, the projector that creates the illusion of movement, shape and everything else that can be named- the movie. As I am passing through the screen, the projector, the light and … it all disappears.

Once, following a particularly high meditative state, I found that I could not look at anything, any separate thing, without losing myself in oneness with the Big Picture. Then I would find there was no picture at all. I would lose any awareness of self and regain self-consciousness much later. Then I would look at something again, or have a thought, or breathe- and it would start all over again. Sometimes I am still passing through that screen, or just about to- clumsily- falling into reality as though by tripping over my shoelaces.

How things work- from various sources

(click if it doesn’t animate automatically)

Newcomen Engine

Wikipedia says: The atmospheric engine invented by Thomas Newcomen in 1712, today referred to as a Newcomen steam engine (or simply Newcomen engine), was the first practical device to harness the power of steam to produce mechanical work. Newcomen engines were used throughout Britain and Europe, principally to pump water out ofmines, starting in the early 18th century. James Watt‘s later engine was an improved version. Although Watt is far more famous today, Newcomen rightly deserves the first credit for the widespread introduction of steam power.

Stirling Engine

“Air in the engine is cyclically heated (by an alcohol burner) and expands to push the power piston (shown in blue) to the right. As the power piston moves to the right, the yellow linkage forces the loose-fitting, red “piston” (on the left half of the machine) to displace air to the cooler side of the engine. The air on the cool side loses heat to the outside world and contracts, pulling the blue piston to the left. The air is again displaced, sending it back to the hotter region of the engine, and the cycle repeats. 

The Stirling engine cycle can also be used “in reverse”, to convert rotating motion into a temperature differential (and thus provide refrigeration).”

Stirlings can be made inexpensively, are robust, and can use a variety of fuel sources, such as animal dung, which makes them valuable for areas which lack forests or other common fuel sources.

-description by beatnik

Wankel Engine

A pretty high revving engine, but the low compression ratio meant stinky efficiency. Even in racing, better fuel efficiency means you don’t stop for fuel as often. (larryrose11)

“a lot of the issues people associate with wankels have been pretty well suppressed or solved entirely in the current generation (renesis), but you still can’t park an RX8 on grass, and they do still need a bit of special treatment.” (Akaishi)

Above: Torpedo- boat destroyer system- Also how Transformers poop.

Constant Velocity (CV) Joint. They’re in pretty much every front wheel drive car. This is a very simplified diagram of how a CV joint works- the real thing is hella durable.

Manual Transmission Mechanism- Wikipedia says: ”

manual transmission, also known as a manual gearbox or standard transmission (informally, a “manual”, “straight shift”, “stick (shift)”, or “straight drive”) is a type of transmission used in motor vehicle applications. It generally uses a driver-operated clutch, typically operated by a pedal or lever, for regulating torque transfer from the internal combustion engine to the transmission, and a gear stick, either operated by hand (as in a car) or by foot (as on a motorcycle).

A conventional manual transmission is frequently the base equipment in a car; other options include automated transmissions such as an automatic transmission (often a manumatic), a semi-automatic transmission, or a continuously variable transmission (CVT).”

The sewing machine.

I have always wondered how this worked. This is so cool.

Reciprocating movements

Radial Engine

Comments:

“it doesn’t get better when you realize there were versions of this where the driveshaft was hard-mounted to the plane and the propeller was bolted to the crank case.”

“Radials don’t leak oil they mark their territory. A little contancorous but so sooo nice!”

“Some of the finest piston engines ever built were radials. Perhaps most notably the Pratt & Whitney R-2800, without which, it can easily be argued, the Allies would have lost the air war in the Pacific.”

blandoon sez: “I would agree with that assessment – from what I hear, there are only a handful of shops left, at most, that can overhaul something like an R-3350 (Anderson Airmotive is the one I know of).

The R-3350 in particular has always been a troubled beast, because it was pushed into wartime service when not altogether ready (primarily to power the B-29), and it had a long and painful early life before it became something close to reliable. But it has never been as dependable as its smaller, older stepbrother, the R-2800. From what I understand this is why there are a good number of Pratt-powered Douglas DC-6s left, but almost no DC-7s – they used the Wright engine, and were discarded almost as soon as jets became available.

FIFI, the only remaining flyable B-29, had its four early-model 3350s replaced with later units that are not authentic to the airplane, but were custom-built (by the aforementioned Anderson Airmotive) out of a hybrid of different later-model parts, with custom engine mounts and exhaust and so forth. It cost something like $4 million to do this, but otherwise it would have been impossible to get the airplane reliable enough to tour the airshow circuit.”

Maltese Cross Mechanism

Comment: “Nicholson Baker wrote a fantastic essay about the Maltese Cross mechanism and its use in film projectors/cameras in his book The Size of Thoughts.” -vidiot

Unrelated, so far

Goopy New Year!

Click the pictures below for full size-

Space

Some pictures I’ve found. Click for full size these are big.

M31:

NGC 206b

M64

Keck observatory, related landscapes:

Double rainbow:

Nonsense

the Crab Pulsar

Lightening Xrayed:

fives

8jhanas

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Filed under animated gif, animation, Mental Hell Treatment, mp3, personal story, pictures, silly, Spirituality

Blue Moon

This Sunday, November 21st, is a blue moon.

It isn’t colored blue. It isn’t the second full moon in a month. Why is it blue?

Back in the July 1943 issue of Sky & Telescope magazine, in a question and answer column written by Lawrence J. Lafleur, there was a reference made to the term “blue moon.”

Lafleur cited the unusual term from a copy of the 1937 edition of the now-defunct Maine Farmers’ Almanac (NOT to be confused with The Farmers’ Almanac of Lewiston, Maine, which is still in business).

On the almanac page for August 1937, the calendrical meaning for the term “blue moon” was given.

That explanation said that the moon “… usually comes full twelve times in a year, three times for each season.”

Occasionally, however, there will come a year when there are 13 full moons during a year, not the usual 12. The almanac explanation continued:

“This was considered a very unfortunate circumstance, especially by the monks who had charge of the calendar of thirteen months for that year, and it upset the regular arrangement of church festivals. For this reason thirteen came to be considered an unlucky number.”

And with that extra full moon, it also meant that one of the four seasons would contain four full moons instead of the usual three.

“There are seven Blue Moons in a cycle of nineteen years,” continued the almanac, ending on the comment that, “In olden times the almanac makers had much difficulty calculating the occurrence of the Blue Moon and this uncertainty gave rise to the expression ‘Once in a Blue Moon.'”

But while LaFleur quoted the almanac’s account, he made one very important omission: He never specified the date for this particular blue moon.

As it turned out, in 1937, it occurred on Aug. 21. That was the third full moon in the summer of 1937, a summer season that would see a total of four full moons.

Names were assigned to each moon in a season: For example, the first moon of summer was called the early summer moon, the second was the midsummer moon, and the last was called the late summer moon.

But when a particular season has four moons, the third was apparently called a blue moon so that the fourth and final one can continue to be called the late moon.

This time, on page 3 of the March 1946 issue, James Hugh Pruett wrote an article, “Once in a Blue Moon,” in which he made a reference to the term “blue moon” and referenced LaFleur’s article from 1943.

Pruett also wrote:

“Seven times in 19 years there were – and still are – 13 full moons in a year. This gives 11 months with one full moon each and one with two. This second in a month, so I interpret it, was called Blue Moon.”

How unfortunate that Pruett did not have a copy of that 1937 almanac at hand, or else he would have almost certainly noticed that his “two full moons in a single month assumption” would have been totally wrong.

For the blue moon date of Aug. 21 was most definitely not the second full moon that month!

Pruett’s 1946 explanation was, of course, the wrong interpretation and it might have been completely forgotten were it not for Deborah Byrd who used it on her popular National Public Radio program, “StarDate” on Jan. 31, 1980.

Over the next decade, this new, incorrect, definition started appearing in diverse places, such as the World Almanac for Kids and the board game Trivial Pursuit.

For me, this blue moon is also significant because it is my daughter’s birthday. If she was alive she would be 31 years old. Damn, I miss her. But I’m okay- not depressed, not confused… it’s only the second year since her death that I can actually look at a calendar and see the dates correctly and say, “Sunday is Erin’s birthday. It’s November 21st on Sunday.”

For 17 years I couldn’t read a calendar properly around this time of year. I couldn’t see the dates and know the days they fell on. I’ve turned a corner of some kind.

Happy birthday, baby girl. I’ll always remember you. I’ll always love you.

 

pictures from her last birthday party

 

The full moon also means that next Friday, after Thanksgiving, will be Mad Liberation by Moonlight, on KBOO FM in Portland (or kboo.fm on the web). Late late Friday night, 1 am to 2 am.

Hey! This is pretty cool. (Not the Dude, silly- the link.)

 

abiding

 

Miscellaneous nonsense:

By the way, zombies aren’t the strangest things going on. Check out this.

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Filed under animated gif, animation, comedy relief, Family pictures, Mad Radio, mp3, Music, pictures

The Velveteen Cat

Blizzard, who had her eyes removed last year.

She’s doing great.  Gets around without apparent difficulty,  seems to be very content. (click for full size)

***

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

“I suppose you are real?” said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive.

But the Skin Horse only smiled.

***

Listen to The Velveteen Rabbit:

or download:

the_velveteen_rabbit_williams

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…damp, drizzly November in my soul…

Note: this blog will have it’s 100,00th visitor sometime this week. Maybe tomorrow.

 

"Yeah, right. You want your meds now? Or do we have to tie you down and give 'em to ya in the butt?"

Really. But that isn’t the point-

 

When I was about 11 I decided to memorize “Moby Dick” by Herman Melville. I had read the book “Faranheit 451” by Ray Bradbury. I was afraid no one would have the patience to preserve Moby Dick for the book-less future. I made it through the first chapter. Later on I remembered the first page- (goes like this):

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs – commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme down-town is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.

Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall northward. What do you see? –

Herman Melville looked like this:


I personally like the movie with Gregory Peck as Ahab- better than the Patrick Stewart one, although I like Stewart as an actor.

It’s just a classic- you can’t compare it to Peck.

Reminds me of another great book, “A Long Way Gone”,  a modern autobiography (by Ishmael Beah) of a boy soldier in Sierra Leone.

When he came here to the US he went to High School. This is an interaction he had with another student:

New York City, 1998

My high school friends have begun to suspect I haven’t told them the full story of my life.

“Why did you leave Sierra Leone?”

“Because there is a war.”

“Did you witness some of the fighting?”

“Everyone in the country did.”

“You mean you saw people running around with guns and shooting each other?”

“Yes, all the time.”

Cool.

I smile a little.

“You should tell us about it sometime.”

“Yes, sometime.”

Here is a short audio clip from the book read by Beah:


This is how Beah looks today:

From his article in the NY Times:

Sometimes I feel that living in New York City, having a good family and friends, and just being alive is a dream, that perhaps this second life of mine isn’t really happening. Whenever I speak at the United NationsUnicef or elsewhere to raise awareness of the continual and rampant recruitment of children in wars around the world, I come to realize that I still do not fully understand how I could have possibly survived the civil war in my country, Sierra Leone.

Most of my friends, after meeting the woman whom I think of as my new mother, a Brooklyn-born white Jewish-American, assume that I was either adopted at a very young age or that my mother married an African man. They would never imagine that I was 17 when I came to live with her and that I had been a child soldier and participated in one of the most brutal wars in recent history.

In early 1993, when I was 12, I was separated from my family as the Sierra Leone civil war, which began two years earlier, came into my life. The rebel army, known as the Revolutionary United Front (R.U.F.), attacked my town in the southern part of the country. I ran away, along paths and roads that were littered with dead bodies, some mutilated in ways so horrible that looking at them left a permanent scar on my memory. I ran for days, weeks and months, and I couldn’t believe that the simple and precious world I had known, where nights were celebrated with storytelling and dancing and mornings greeted with the singing of birds and cock crows, was now a place where only guns spoke and sometimes it seemed even the sun hesitated to shine. After I discovered that my parents and two brothers had been killed, I felt even more lost and worthless in a world that had become pregnant with fear and suspicion as neighbor turned against neighbor and child against parent. Surviving each passing minute was nothing short of a miracle.

After almost a year of running, I, along with some friends I met along the way, arrived at an army base in the southeastern region. We thought we were now safe; little did we know what lay ahead.

1994: The First Battle

I have never been so afraid to go anywhere in my life as I was that first day. As we walked into the arms of the forest, tears began to form in my eyes, but I struggled to hide them and gripped my gun for comfort. We exhaled quietly, afraid that our own breathing could cause our deaths. The lieutenant led the line that I was in. He raised his fist in the air, and we stopped moving. Then he slowly brought it down, and we sat on one heel, our eyes surveying the forest. We began to move swiftly among the bushes until we came to the edge of a swamp, where we formed an ambush, aiming our guns into the bog. We lay flat on our stomachs and waited. I was lying next to my friend Josiah. At 11, he was even younger than I was. Musa, a friend my age, 13, was also nearby. I looked around to see if I could catch their eyes, but they were concentrating on the invisible target in the swamp. The tops of my eyes began to ache, and the pain slowly rose up to my head. My ears became warm, and tears were running down my cheeks, even though I wasn’t crying. The veins on my arms stood out, and I could feel them pulsating as if they had begun to breathe of their own accord. We waited in the quiet, as hunters do. The silence tormented me.

The short trees in the swamp began to shake as the rebels made their way through them. They weren’t yet visible, but the lieutenant had passed the word down through a whisper that was relayed like a row of falling dominos: “Fire on my command.” As we watched, a group of men dressed in civilian clothes emerged from under the tiny bushes. They waved their hands, and more fighters came out. Some were boys, as young as we were. They sat together in line, waving their hands, discussing a strategy. My lieutenant ordered a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) to be fired, but the commander of the rebels heard it as it whooshed its way out of the forest. “Retreat!” he called out to his men, and the grenade’s blast got only a few rebels, whose split bodies flew in the air. The explosion was followed by an exchange of gunfire from both sides.

I lay there with my gun pointed in front of me, unable to shoot. My index finger became numb. I felt as if the forest had turned upside down and I was going to fall off, so I clutched the base of a tree with one hand. I couldn’t think, but I could hear the sounds of the guns far away in the distance and the cries of people dying in pain. A splash of blood hit my face. In my reverie I had opened my mouth a bit, so I tasted some of the blood. As I spat it out and wiped it off my face, I saw the soldier it had come from. Blood poured out of the bullet holes in him like water rushing through newly opened tributaries. His eyes were wide open; he still held his gun. My eyes were fixed on him when I heard Josiah screaming for his mother in the most painfully piercing voice I had ever heard. It vibrated inside my head to the point that I felt my brain had shaken loose from its anchor.

But that isn’t what I’m here to talk about today.

First up: Rainbows

I saw a brilliant rainbow on my way home from work the other day. It spanned the sky. I was able to snatch a few pictures from the commuter van in which I was riding. They don’t capture the the thing but I show them anyway. As per usual, click for full size (we aren’t chintzy about picture size at Moonsoup!).

 

rainbow leaving Salem

 

Now, some may call me cruel. I love cats. We have 5 cats in my home. Is it so wrong that I would want to dress them up for Halloween?

 

hats on cats

 

Self-explanatory. This is not a flattering picture of my wife.

She’s really much prettier. Terrible photo, my bad.

 

the kids grow- we grow old

 

Other pictures that have caught my fancy-

 

Bill Murray

 

 

Angel Falls, Venezuela

 

 

This is why

 

 

Hey Jude flowchart

 

 

Sky at Powell Butte

 

Let Grandma see that smile, deary (click it if it doesn’t animate)…

 

"Good morning, default food-bearing large thing."

 

denied

 

 

Lemur Meditation

 

 

 

Really cool zodiacal picture from ESO

And if you want to see more amazing pictures from ESO go here.

 

 

no comment

 

 

infographic

 

 

 

mmmm... ahhh... oh, crap- time to wake up

 

Halloweeny

 

 

zoo babies
More cutenesses:

maybe not so cute, perhaps grotesque…

…okay, back to cute

again, not cute has slipped in

I remember seeing this cat…

Music break-

Click on the barbarian if he doesn’t animate. Also the ring of hands.

I don’t know why this happens sometimes.

The one below is also supposed to animate. Click if it doesn’t.

stitched panorama

Alright. I want to talk to you about something. I have had a whole page dedicated to Roger Ramjet cartoons for quite a while. It’s not like it’s easy to come by these vintage, 1960s shows. I’ve even put them in order. So far I have had zero views. I’m beginning to think I’m wasting upload space. (Speaking of “space”, that’s where I moved the cartoons.)

So, I have a poll. I expect to get about as much response to the poll as I have from Roger Ramjet. But here goes. Vote!

Cute white bats

Loose Talk-

Seriously now…

Free e-books for download (legal, beyond copyright):

Project Gutenberg ebooks-

Get Free Books-

Listen

download: Stop Being a Victim

stream: 

download:  Don’t Take It Personally

stream:  

Literature download: Part 1-

01-04 Crazy Sunday – F Scott Fitzgerald

Part 2-

02-01 Crazy Sunday_2 – F Scott Fitzgerald

Closing shots:

Venice

 

Dubrovnic

 

 

Sunset boat

 

 

Owl photobomb

 

panoramas above- click for full size, okay?

That’s all for now. Be well, be happy, dwell in your heart

and may your day be sweet.

-Rick

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Better post something before the next full moon

Pete Townsend – There’s A Heartache Following Me

Click when you want bigger size- some of these are biiig. Click sound thingys where they appear. Click click click. This is just for fun. Obviously.

Abandoned- top > down

Sub Base
In a bay on the northern shores of the Black Sea, the Soviet army maintained an elaborate submarine base throughout much of the Cold War. Now a museum, this abandoned submarine base is in the town of Balaklava, Ukraine. One picture.

Detroit
Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre explored some of Detroit’s dying landmarks for their photo series The Ruins of Detroit. As the industrial revolution came to a close and race riots crippled a once bustling city, many buildings throughout Detroit fell into disrepair and eventual abandonment. Three pictures.

Beelitz Hospital
It is rare that a ruin like this should decay so gracefully and without the marks of vandalism. The Beelitz Military Hospital in Berlin is in great condition for a ruin, perhaps for the history it represents. In 1916, a young Lance Corporal Adolph Hitler recuperated here after taking a bullet in the Battle of the Somme during the First World War. One Picture

NYC City Hall Subway Station
Under the busy streets of New York City rests a perfectly preserved monument to that city’s transportation history. The City Hall Subway Station was first constructed over 100 years ago, a part of New York’s earliest underground transport network. It was shut down in 1945, where it lay dormant and untouched until a one night public exhibition on the station’s centennial. Two pictures- present and past.

Ryugyung Hotel
The Ryugyung Hotel in Pyongyang, North Korea is one of the 20th century’s greatest architectural failures. Initially designed as a beacon of progress and power, the Ryugyung Hotel was unable to sustain construction when the North Korean government ran out of money. Ground was broken in 1987, construction was halted in 1992. One picture.

Pripyat
Pripyat, Ukraine. In a span of sixteen years, the population of Pripyat grew from zero to 50,000 and back down to zero, following the greatest nuclear power disaster in human history. Pripyat was billed as an atomic city, built into the forests south of Kiev in 1970 to house the families of workers at the Chernobyl nuclear facility. One picture (but you can gopogle many others).

Waterpark
A massive, indoor water park was planned for the children of Russia, one towering many stories high with a myriad of rides within. Before this park could be completed, the developer went belly up and couldn’t afford its completion. One picture.

Sea Forts
During the Second World War, the British Royal Navy constructed a series of sea forts for an advanced line of defense against inbound air raids and potential sea invasions from the Axis powers. The Maunsell Sea Forts still stand today, abandoned a few meters above the North Sea. One, however, remains inhabited, now a nation of its own referred to as the Principality of Sealand. These sea forts are a favorite of maritime explorers. One picture.

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Upanishads

A favorite topic at Moonsoup.

This post includes audio excerpts read by Tessa Morgan.

Sound bites for a feast of the soul.

Also, instead of my usual download link

I’m using the WordPress Audio Player, just for a change.

For an interesting summary of the Upanishads go here.

Just click the “play” icon for each section-

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Krishnamurti Audio

(There is other KM audio to be found on this blog but I think these are ones I haven’t posted before.)

Krishnamurti–Why Do We Live With Stress

Krishnamurti–Meditation,Silence and the quiet Mind–

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Monday May I (Short-Sweet)

This will be a mixture today- First, I want to call attention to some of my favorite mental health blogs.

Bi-polar Blast is now called Beyond Meds (and has been for a long time, I just didn’t get around to changing it in the blogroll). Today there is a video of Pema Chodron. Check it out here.

Ron Unger’s blog, Recovery from Schizophrenia, is a veritable fount of information, inspiration and sense. Today he’s talking about an article titled “A Fine Madness. If you poke around, though, you’ll find many wonderful things on his blog. He writes with such clarity and insight- you’ll want to read all of his entries on everything from cognitive therapy for psychosis to reducing medications to redefining Recovery. To see what he’s up to today click here.

Furious Seasons has been quiet lately but you can still read back on some great topics. Also, they have an excellent sampling of links to mental health blogs. That’s where I go when I want to find gems like this or like this.

Off the wall but not out of his mind, my pal Rich is the host of Kill Ugly Radio. Stop by and have a listen. You won’t regret it, most likely. Rich also is the guy who records my radio show and sends it to me so I can archive it here. Thank, Rich.

On the blogroll where it says “Simply the best there is”, what you’ll really find is The Icarus Project. The reason is because they are, simply, the best. Mad forums, mad radio, mad art, mad guides to living. Everything you want. Just do it.

Now for something completely different- it’s time to start scouting for frog spawning areas in my neck of the woods. They’ve been croaking up a storm around my house the last few weeks. It’s been a mostly dry spring but there’s still been plenty of rain to get things going.

Now is the time to find those puddles, ditches and wet spots that are marginal for tadpole survival. Typically there will be several spots near my home where frogs will spawn but that tend to dry up before most of the little guys can transform.

I’m going to check around and get back to you. I’ll bring back some pictures of the places I’m talking about. Then, before the second week of June, I’ll go out and rescue as many of the little fellers as I can. They’ll finish growing legs in the tank on my back porch and hop out into the world when they’re ready.

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Filed under CS/X movement, Free Music, Frogs, Mad Radio, mp3, pictures, wellness and systems change

Small post

It’s Sunday night, I’m tired and still want to share a couple things.

First, Update on Blizzard, our cat that had her eyes removed (surgically) because she was suffering from glaucoma. She’s doing exceptionally well. Wayy better than when she was going bind from the glaucoma. She gets around the house without any difficulty, hardly ever uses the walls to roam the place. One of these shows her eating with her sister Annie.

A great little short story:

09-02 You’re Ugly Too – Lorrie Moore

Anxiety a problem? Step into my office for your hypnosis session:

Attacking Anxiety Relaxation Session – Female Hypnotist Guided

Before:

After:

Never Give up. I mean it.

Never give up

Miscellaneous-


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Filed under animated gif, animation, cats, comedy relief, Mental health recovery, mp3, sound bite

cream of lunapalooza soup

Audiopalooza:

poetry/ e. e. cummings/ from librivox.org

wheres_madge_then_cummings_cz_64kb

this_is_the_garden_cummings_cz_64kb

Cummings younger-

sky_was_cummings_cz_64kb

it_may_not_always_cummings_cz_64kb

i_have_found_cummings_cz_64kb

Cummings older-

all_in_green_cummings_cz_64kb

o_sweet_spontaneous_cummings_cz_64kb

sounds/ miscellaneous/ ringtones?

25cents ansMilitary ansRoy Apollo11Final2 baboons babyCry hard

accesscode yourdiscovery worry Womansneezing Traffic toolong

ansIcanthear better BeverlyHillbillies cancel carhorntwice

children_laugh cows error feelit FLY Gilligans info knocking

stars silly Revenge on Telemarketers beer removeMe MeowMix

puzzlin People talking officeParty NasaSaturn myCatIsUpset

moment morehuman Homer Simpson Whispering Im_a_good_girl

Psychosis NOS/ not otherwise specified/ {parental warning:

LISTENING TO SOME OF THESE MAY MAKE YOU STERILE}

Cookie Monster – ‘C’ is for Cookie (Larry Levan Disco Remix)

[acoustic] George Harrison – Art of Dying

[1928] Blind Willie McTell – Statesboro Blues

Firesign Theater-Pass the Indian, Please

1934_US_Fascist_Coup_BBC4_Radio

Bob Newhart – Driving Instructor

Donovan – Codiene (Demo)

dj format – 3 feet deep

ISMAMATHEPRESIDENT

Mickey Mouse – Happy Mouse

Monkees_-_Circle_Sky

Mountain Goats – Dilaudid (demo from vinyl)

Penn Jillette – The Monkey and the Dwarf – April 12, 2006

People Are Strange (The Chipmunks)

ralph wiggum – viking

Puff the Magic Dragon – Peter Paul and mary

Saddam Hussein – I Can Change

Sesame Street – Martians yipyip

strongbad on npr

the_nooooos_of_Star_Wars

the raunchy young lepers – they ripped up my mind

Tthat’s All Folks

No it’s not/ we’re just getting started

Goopypalooza!

(go to Goopymart.com)

(go to Goopy’s photostream on Flikr)

Anipalooza:

repost:

Lunapalooza NOS (not otherwise specified):

TheSlickers-JohnnyTooBad

Being Kind to All- Nawang Khechog

072401 LMB – Kyabje Lama Zopa Rinpoche – Diamond Cutter Sutra pt1

072401 LMB – Kyabje Lama Zopa Rinpoche – Diamond Cutter Sutra pt2

072401 LMB – Kyabje Lama Zopa Rinpoche – Diamond Cutter Sutra pt3


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Filed under animated gif, animation, Free Music, mp3, Music, pictures, poetry, silly, sound bite