April 22, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

Earth Day

It seems, on this Earth Day in particular, that things are a bit disheartening. How to reclaim a continent and all continents when science is denied, facts are denied, and whole worlds (e.g. The Rain Forest) are decimated by greed.

It’s tough. It’s painful. It may be hopeless. Still some plod on. Some keep smiling and giving. Some pray. Many sit and are silent. And on we go. Some go on in beauty, while yet they can. And still we love. We love this earth of ours in all its splendor, and the terror of a sunrise. And while we go on, we love, and smile. Maybe plant a flower. Maybe stop and watch the wonder of nature, and see all of heaven in a grain of sand. Enough to just go on.

Posted by Quantum World

April 20, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

Nice Things Matter

This one goes out to a brave and stoic girl I know. Courage by Villagers:

via Courage — Step Into The Nightmare

April 20, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

The State of Affairs

Aka, The Way Things Are

I’ve just disconnected from Twitter. Somehow my personal page got hijacked and many tweets are displaying as retweeted by me. Not so! I tried repeatedly to block, mute, report, and undo the retweet to no success. I don’t want anyone to think that is my site, (just because it has my name attached to it!). Oh, and I redid all of the settings to basically allow nothing. Still it continues. So I’ve quit. This is all too bad as I was enjoying some of the tweets I was able to view. *sigh* And oh well. Bye-bye Twitter.

And, I don’t know how much longer Facebook is going to last for me. I’ve heard that it is over but I don’t know where people have gone. Perhaps nowhere. There certainly is a lack of interaction. Few posts, fewer comments. A good thing after all that.

Tumblr? I’m there but not really able to use it to any advantage. Basically unsure, certainly a novice. (Or whatever is below a novice.) And none of these attempts at connecting with others has led to book sales of The Fat Man. And so. And so this is where we are: me, my book, and social media. It should also be noted that all of this posting and fussing and doing and undoing keeps the writing at bay. Limits it certainly.

Here we are, then, at this sad state of affairs. The lock and load of frustration. The fractals of the Universe continuing without me while including me. Time to write.

April 12, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

Ludie

So here’s my pal, Ludie—The Sicilian. And here’s what he had to say about himself: “You People who think or say that I am hostile, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly you wrong me. You have no idea of the secret reason which makes me seem that way to you.” Of course his secret was that he was deaf.

His very dedicated fans like to call Beethoven “The Sicilian” because of his dark appearance and the looks of someone from Sicily. Those very passionate fans struggle with the stories of how badly he treated his nephew. There were also rumors about the time that Ludwig was given the care of his nephew, that the child was actually his own son, having had an affair with his brother’s wife. Beethoven did mistreat his nephew as there appears to be enough evidence to substantiate that. However, there has not been anything to prove that the nephew was anything other than just that—a nephew.

The music world generally considers Beethoven to be the greatest composer who ever lived.

: Posted by Ludwig van Beethoven Site

April 10, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

The Mansion of Self

ViewAroom That dream of the room. The room that becomes a house and the house becomes filled with rooms. The rooms unknown that hold many surprises and other pathways, doors, and tunnels. The attic filled with jewels. The dungeon below that you dare not enter yet moves with you, no matter the places you leave. Always there, always below. Except when it is above. Some rooms breathe and you can hear the in-and-out pranayama of the thing itself. Or is it the whole house? The house which has now become a mansion. It possesses you, that dream. It moves with you in madness and complete possession. It fills you with the transcendence of a miracle that gives you the life beyond. It takes you flying beside yourself, past yourself, this dream that is beyond words where you are baptized by the Light that has come alive, has re-imagined itself there. And you know the truth of the words “In my Father’s House there are many mansions.” And it is not that Father you know, but the Father that is Self, the self contained beyond itself and transmuted into the Universe.