lundi 29 février 2016

Our Big Secret – A review of the novel ‘Devouring Time’

“That is how heavy a secret can become. It can make blood flow easier than ink.” – Patrick Rothfuss

Author Patty Lesser’s novel ‘Devouring Time’ narrates the happenings inside an old English country-house in Canada. Marcus, a solicitor from London has been entrusted with delivering a special package to the heiress of an old mansion. What happens thereafter includes the revelation of a secret treasure, relatives clamoring for their share in the riches and an unexpected death in the family. When an investigation is launched to identify the murderer, more secrets and the true nature of the family members gets revealed.

The narration in Devouring Time has a laidback approach to it, and is very much reminiscent of the posh, aristocratic mansion the story is set in. Though it’s touted as a mystery book, the novel isn’t in a hurry to introduce you to all the characters and then reveal the big mystery within the story. Art plays a major part in the narrative, what with almost all the characters being connoisseurs of classical and modern paintings. And just like how you would go about painting a fine picture; the author has taken her time in constructing the scenes and in applying the right shades and tones.

Although Marcus Tate is introduced as a core protagonist in the narration, the book actually has a bevy of colorful characters that keeps the plot moving forward. There’s nothing special about his character, but it is fun to see his life unravel and dissimilate as he interacts more with the family members of the mansion. Margaret plays the love interest to Marcus; she is also the sole character with integrity amidst her greedy relatives. Other notable characters that make an impression with their characteristics and their dialogues include Richard, Lillian, Marilyn, Victor and the stone faced but loyal butler Howard.

Actually, all the characters in this novel can be the subjects in a compelling case study about human nature. Their behavior and antics even in the midst of a tragedy shows that sometimes human beings can value personal richness and comfort over other moralistic compulsions like truth and justice. This is an interesting reveal into the human psyche and is something that the author has attempted in her earlier book A Discerning Heart as well. While the latter was set in the fantasy genre, Devouring Time has a more modern and real-life feel to it.

The book can’t be classified as just another Whodunit fiction; although the novel has all the elements of a mystery book - a huge mansion filled with a diverse array of characters, a secret room with a precious treasure, conniving characters that stand to benefit from the death of the matriarch and even a mysterious butler to boot. Devouring Time is primarily a character driven story and an introspection into the worldly compulsions that prompts us to behave in a certain manner. The mystery element merely binds the story together and keeps the reader engaged till the end.

Patty Lesser has spun a different tale based on the mold of classic mystery stories, and regular readers of hers will appreciate the different voice she has employed here.

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Our Big Secret – A review of the novel ‘Devouring Time’

Children literature recommendations!

Hi all!

I'm new to this forum and I'm already excited to see how lively this forum is!

To start this post off, I should probably mention that I'm considerably new to the world of literature. I did grow up reading Enid Blyton's books though, and also some of The Narnia anthologies, and the Goosebumps books. As you can tell the genres that I grew up with are pretty jumbled up and inconsistent.

Recently I had the pleasure of reading about 80% of Roahl Dahl's children book and I was immediately transported back to being a little boy again! Never had I in a long time being so transfixed to a book for hours after hours! Working in the animation industry, I always try to find inspiration around me and I find myself always drawing from memories of my childhood. I feel gravitated towards children literature for the simplicity and the honesty of the approach in the writing style and I'm very excited to read more, but I honestly don't know where to start!

I'm 27 and while it may seem a little long overdue for me to just pick up on reading what most readers consider are the most important childrens' books, I'd still like to take on the challenge to read them all.

As I mentioned above, I recently read about 80% of Roahl Dahl's childrens' books, but I also read the following:

A Wrinkle in Time
Frog and Toad are Friends
Pinocchio
Alice in Wonderland
Anne of Green Gables
The Little Prince

It's not a lot, but I'd still like to read the books most readers consider to be the most important classical children literature written. I'd like to someday create stories that remind people of what it's like to be a kid again (very much like Mr.Dahl's children's books). What are some books any of you would recommend for a starter? Whatever you consider is a "must-read" would definitely help! I ordered these books off of Amazon today:

Pippi Longstocking
The Children of Noisy Village
The Borrowers
Charlotte's Web
The Wind in the Willows
The Secret Garden

I'm excited to see what books are any of your favorites!!!

-Yon

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Children literature recommendations!

If only

If only love could’ve been enough
instead of a distant dream.
If only you could’ve realized
The beauty we had all seen.
Instead you chose to live
in the pain of what had passed,
obscured and alone,
the truth hidden behind your mask.

If only I could’ve closed your eyes
to all the darkness you had seen.
If only I could’ve shed upon you the light
You had shown me.
If only hope had been enough
To keep you alive.
Because it only takes so long,
For the pain to start feeling good
when you’re trying to die.

Its not your past that I loved
But the soul you had within,
and the heart that hurt so much,
From your father’s sin.

If only I could’ve had the touch
that had healed.
Because once you tore open those wounds
they were never resealed.
If only I could’ve known,
how to recreate your life.
Because once you knew how to smile
without it feeling like a cut from a knife.

If only love could've been enough
to make your life
what you had imagined it could've been.

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If only

Summer Solstice (Control Your Demons)

Chapter 3

I soon found myself upstairs standing in the area of space which unifies the rooms, and with a surfeited sense of feeling looked down upon the descending flight of stairs questionably; including the floor in which I so earnestly stood, I counted twelve steps in total – a number precisely the same as the numerical equivalent for which my house was known. I pondered this insignificant, statistical comparison for a few moments more then instantaneously lost the thought due to a disturbing noise coming from one of the adjoining rooms.

I wasn't entirely sure which room was home to the mysterious night-time bedlam, as all the doors were closed. The noise seemed to be echoing from the farthest room on the left side of the landing. However, upon closer inspection the noise seemed to have moved to an entirely different location altogether. I would best describe the lamentation as a non-rhythmical rattle of varying pitch; sometimes clear as crunching paper, and other times quiet as the tiniest tap on a table. For short periods of time the noise would cease to exist altogether, then without warning a reverberated “Bang!” shuddered through my body prompting an impulsive recline.

I thought the noise to be nothing but an open window blowing in violent wind from outside. However, I quickly thought it could easily be something else.Perhaps even someone else.

I paused for a moment. I was dead still.

The thought of someone else in my home sent an immediate rush of adrenalin through my body. I became anxious, yet strangely aroused at the same time. My hands went clammy. The beat of my heart increased and I could feel the blood literally pumping through my veins. I felt zoetic!

I finally located the noise to one solitary room and I'm not sure how long I gloomily positioned myself outside the subject’s door which was home to the discord. It seemed like an eternity. I began to enjoy the uncertainty which lay undiscovered from within the room; it became a vivacious ecstasy. Again, everything went silent as if the noise from within had detected my presence from without, and with that vigorous entanglement of apprehension a whole range of daunting preconceptions further engulfed my mind; my forehead became itchy, followed by layer of warm sweat. My heart pumped itself into a third gear, and a few seconds later a hot flash whizzed through my body like a train out of control. My breathing become rapid, and my right hand scarcely went back and forth from the door handle like it was a game of some sort; I'm not entirely sure how many times I retraced my hand from the handle as I wasn't counting. All I felt was an outré, catatonic state of absorption towards the handle. An almost bewildering admiration for it. I couldn't take my eyes off it. I was getting close, my confidence was growing. I knew at some point I would burst through the door I just didn't know when.

Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours. All my inhibitions had left me. I was purely functioning on adrenaline.

No decision was mine. I, wasn't me.

A further moment past when to my surprise found my right hand firmly grasped around the handle! I took a deep breathe which staggered its way into my lungs then plucked some unwilling courage from out of nowhere, and then with a clockwise motion began to twist the handle. As the handle squeaked and cracked this way and that I thought I was making too much noise of my own! Finally, enough was enough and with a final twist of audacity the door opened!
I ran in heroically! But immediately found myself flying back in mid-air.

I had slipped on something, and as I continued to fly through the air uncontrollably the last thing I remembered was arching my neck forward intently.

Everything happened so fast yet felt forever lasting and I somehow managed to snatch a brief glimpse of what I was searching for…

…and there, right in front of me was an open window.

But before I knew it, “Wham!” I was out cold.

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Summer Solstice (Control Your Demons)

Stone the crows

Greetings folks,

I wonder if any kind person can help with a passage from King Lear (Act 5, scene 3):

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stone. *
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so
That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!
I know when one is dead, and when one lives.
She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking glass.
If that her breath will mist* or stain the stone, **
Why, then she lives.

The "stone" in the first line* is clear, but not the second mention**. "stain the stone"? What stone?

Thanks very much in advance for any help in the matter.

best regards to all.

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Stone the crows

Great Expectations Charles Dickens. Novel of social ascension?

Hello!
I'm a student from Poland. On our literature classes I've got a task about "Great Expectations" of Charles Dickens. I have to describe this book as a novel of social ascension. Could anyone help me? I can't find this thread in the book. There is no information on the Internet, as well. I don't want the full answer, but only general ideas.
Thanks!

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Great Expectations Charles Dickens. Novel of social ascension?

A Quandary

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A Quandary

The International Library of poetry or poetry.com

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The International Library of poetry or poetry.com

Hide me in thy pole

Hide me in thy pole
Or prevent me from any foul
O, this, who hexes in our town
Can you show us a similar crown?
Let's go for another point
Then as large to be a poet
Here in my shadow come around
Then out of fact never is found
Think you so far living in delusion
Finding life is just nervously emotion
Here the pleasure is always suitable
And you can do it much multiple
O, whose neck is thin; come rightly in,
And into my figure shadowily got win
I to you smartly will honestly host
And the prize likely you should entrust
So far and yet I reckon you a master
Illuminated yet and enough are brighter

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Hide me in thy pole

dimanche 28 février 2016

Death's Brief Interlude

I stumbled on a funeral march
whose circuit had been completed
an ebony line lay in repose
as a somber conclave hovered
'neath a starched canopy

Under the patchwork tent
time seemed to stand still
every whimper, every cough
sealed in a hallowed vacuum
unspoken words in dark cavities

Yet, above the fray

The sun continued to migrate
on a never ending journey
lending unwanted balm
divesting the melancholy air
with pulses of regeneration

Sad reposes radiantly transposed
into still life portraits on a colored canvas
dark suits glistened in the afterglow
dilated eyes streamed mercurial watercolors
shades of green and blue

From my distant perch
I exhaled death's vapors
ingested the warm afterglow
quivered in time's brief wake
then felt the sun's renewed pulse

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Death's Brief Interlude

Photons

I'm not a God
I will die with Shi t and butt plugs
And leaking orifices
Like a sunshine fun time grandad
As his heart bursts on the commode.

No idea would die this way.
I'm no God
I masturbate
No God ever played.
Or fell in love
Who would God love to death
The very best
Himself
Maybe God does play

He would be tugging
At the looking glass.

No offence
It's a hall of crazy mirrors ,
And photons
Have no f ucking clue
How to lie .

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Photons

The Labyrinth

(For E.S., who has suffered for 18 years.)

Trace with me the tortured path
That leads from life down to the pit,
The pith of all, extent of art,
The dent that ends our drowsy crawl.
We part, as left and right we step,
A saraband of close and far,
A near-collision and a split;
Thus we repeat our courtly dance,
Quite meaningless to those without.
(Within? A summary of self.)
We're almost there! We fail, we strive;
At last the ribbons meet again,
And we are recombined as one—
The center of the universe.

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The Labyrinth

How do you decide what to read next?

[unable to retrieve full-text content]

When you have a massive TBR list that backs up to 2018, how do you decide which book to read next? How do you decide what to read next?

nature

the green green
grass
it grows further
and fast
lush beautiful and last
so life is a museum
of art

to walk is
a plateau
of talk
that nature
is a human
folk
it never runs out of story stalks

to exist renews and lift
in vogue with the season rift
weather suncast and mist

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nature

Great books to Read

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Great books to Read

samedi 27 février 2016

This forum does not allow you to write the word "P O R N" without spaces.

Try it...this is your first amendment. What a farce!. USA is becoming a police-state, and this forum proves it.

Little goodie two shoes. Just warning you. I bet most people here do not give a F U C K, but at least I tried.

Patronized by a forum that probably exists only on part of income tax revenue of american citizens....SHAME. SHAME.
IF YOU BAN ME I HAVE THOUSANDS OF AMERICAN CITIZENS TO BACK ME UP AND TELL THE JUDGE IT WAS NOT JUSTIFIED.

I take back the latter statement.....please do not ban me, operator, sir/ma'am. "Masta, was' da you wanna me ta do?"

for the wisecracks....try spelling it without spaces but with other signs. If I'm not banned for life, I demand a bleeding apology for the mocking of human knowledge and the nazi-supervision maintaining it...you must be very ashamed of yourself, keeping this Censorship up. Mothafooking Nazi's

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This forum does not allow you to write the word "P O R N" without spaces.

EX 30:11-34:35 "Various themes" (silver, incense, rebellion, "seeing God" )

PARASHA: "KI-TISA" (When you elevate)

EXODUS 30:11-34:35...............1 KINGS 18:1-39....................1 CORINTHIANS 8:4-13

In this Parasha, we see various themes, I will try and comment a bit on all. First is the "counting of the people". Each person 20 years old and up, was to give one-half shekel of silver, this was to go to the Mishkan, (the tabernacle) so, if you collect 100 shekels of silver (a shekel was a measure of weight) back then, they didn't have coins as such, just pieces of gold, silver, bronze, etc, you would know that 200 people had been counted. Was God against counting "people" as we use the expression "counting heads" or "take a head count" well, King David took a census of the people and he was punished for that. Maybe

it was that Adonai didn't want the people to trust in their "numbers" but to trust in HIM who took them out of Egypt. And the silver contribution allowed the people to contribute to the maintenance of the Mishkan, when pieces wore out, they had to be replaced, this involved everyone. This silver was to be an "offering unto the LORD" we do the same, when we bring our "tithes and offerings" to our places of worship, we give to maintain our places of worship.

THE BRONZE LAVER: was built as a sort of "wash basen" for the priests after performing their sacrifices. Remember that their hands and feet were exposed to the blood was they slaughtered the animals at the brazen altar, before proceeding inside the Mishkan, they were to wash their "hands and feet" so that they would be "clean" upon entering the inner sanctuary, where the Menorah, the table of showbread, and the incense altar were. How can we apply it to our lives? The blood of Messiah was shed at the cross, this allows us to go into the presence of Adonai "clean" without spot, as the price for our sins was paid at the "brazen altar"of judgment.

THE HOLY OIL AND INCENSE: (30:22-38) these items were made especially for anointing and worship within the confines of the Mishkan, but not for the people to take home and use for personal use. It is not to say that today we can't use incense and oil for worship, both public and private, Yes, we can, many do, but not using the exact same ingredients, Many people use frankincense fragrance for incense and olive oil with the scent of frankincense and Myrr. for anointing oil, Many people use incense for "aromatherapy" as it also helps with relaxation and sleep.

BUILDING OF THE TABERNACLE: (31:1-11) Adonai puts wisdom in the hearts (and hands) of different workers to build the furniture of the tabernacle. Today we have the "gifts of the Holy Spirit" that enable us to serve in the body of Messiah, we have been called to different areas, not all can be teachers, rabbis, pastors, but can be involved in music, maintenance, records keeping, prayer warriors, interceders, counselors, etc, we all have a job to do in the Body of Messiah.

THE SABBATH: (31:12-18) Adonai considers this so important for us, that "keeping the Sabbath" is mentioned quite a few times in the Torah, It is time for "rest and worship" separate from the work week. Many now consider "Sunday" as the Sabbath day, but Adonai never changed the Sabbath to Sunday, It is mentioned in Acts that the early church meet together on the first day of the week to break bread, but this was a custom, it was not a "change" as some believe. Actually, the "first day (Sunday) happens when the sun goes down Saturday evening, and three stars appear, the early church celebrated "Havdalah" (saying goodbye to the Sabbath and welcomed the first day, with food fellowship and perhaps Torah study) Every day of the week is good to study the Bible and fellowship, not just the weekends

THE GOLDEN CALF: chap 32: a very time for "Am Israel" so soon did they forget that Adonai would not abandon them, visual "gods" were so engrained into their lives that they felt that they "needed a visual reminder" of God, perhaps the calf was used as it was an Egyptian diety (Hapis) that represented strength , and in the early Hebrew alpha-Bet , the "Aleph" was symbolized by the head of a bull or ox, symbolizing that "El Shaddai was strong, like a bull or ox" needless to say it didn't go over too well with YHVH and Moshe, "THOU SHALT NOT MAKE ANY GRAVEN IMAGES" PERIOD! for Adoani is to be worshipped in "Spirit and in truth" (Ruach v b'Emet), not via statues. A cross, the star of David are NOT images, they are ICONS which remind us of the Nation of Israel and our Messiah's death, but these are NOT to be bowed down to and worshipped.

COVENANT RENEWED: Adonai wanted wipe out all of Israel and start over with Moshe and his family, HOWEVER, Moshe intervened and this was not done. Was it a test? some wonder? would Adonai really destroy his people like that, leaving only Moshe? Yeshua also intervenes before the Father for us, do we some times act "stiff necked" and drive our Heavenly Father crazy with our behavior? Does he not wish sometimes to destroy us? but our hearts still beat. He gives Israel another chance, renews the covenant, gives a new set of commandments, and life goes on, for better or for worse, in Israel's case, it was more "worse" than "better" as history reveals.

LET ME SEE YOUR GLORY! asked Moshe, LORD, I really want to see you, But Adonai says to Moshe "No man can see the face of Adonai and live" but this is talking about his "pure essence" so, Moshe was hidden in the cleft of a rock and the LORD passed by, saying

"The LORD, the LORD merciful and gracious" some wonder why he says "LORD" twice? perhaps for emphasis, maybe he is saying "Alpha and Omega" there is much thought about that. he is merciful, gracious, longsuffering, full of goodness and truth, forgiving sin, .......YET...... not clearing the guilty, punishing sin, but we have to remember UN-REPENTED SIN, He is all loving and forgiving, but HE is also HOLY, and can not allow sin in his presence, and therefore, punishes and condemns all UNREPENTANT sinners, those who reject his love gift of "Salvation" (Yeshuah) through is ONLY BEGOTTEN SON (Yeshua) . If you have not already done so, would you continue to reject this love gift from the Creator of the Universe? Messiah Yeshua receives ALL who come to him in repentance and humbleness of spirit.

____________________________________________ ____________________________________________ _________________

1 KINGS 18:1-39

Elijah is used by God to test the faith of Israel, who were wayward, bowing to Baal, The contest was on, Baal lost, El Shaddai won, and the children of Israel saw "fire fall from Heaven which consumed the sacrifice" what more proof do you want? BUT...blessed are those who "believe" yet do not see some physical proof or evidence. These words came from Yeshua himself, it is easy to see a miracle, a heavenly manifestation, and then believe, but FAITH is all about "believing" and not trusting in something we can physically see.
____________________________________________ ____________________________________________ ________________

1 COR 8:4-13

Rav Shaul talks about "food" many times, believers think that they can not eat certain foods, because of different reasons, whatever the reasons they might be, but as long as they are "God's foods" which are biblically kosher, mentioned in Leviticus 11, we can eat them in any event, or in any occasion. YET Paul is emphasing that if we are around those who are weak in the faith, and refuse to eat certain foods, even if they are kosher, perhaps "wine" because it contains alcohol, or some are vegetarians because they "will not eat anything that has a face" ideology, if we are with them, then, as not to offend them, we should not eat something that will offend them, out of politeness and courtesy, even though we know better,

SHABBAT SHALOM.......Rabbi Ben Avraham

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EX 30:11-34:35 "Various themes" (silver, incense, rebellion, "seeing God" )

So, I'm here!

Hello. I entered here occasionally, because I've searched something on one poetry stuff. I speak English very bad, so, I want to refine this feature not by special sources, which seem to be quite boring, but in such word-loving sources. I hope, my English not to be extremely ridiculous, so I'm here!

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So, I'm here!

Did Russian Poetry lost lot of its power in translation?

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Did Russian Poetry lost lot of its power in translation?

A Poem by James Joyce

Here's a poem by James Joyce. It has stayed with me all these years. This is powerful verse. Let me know your opinion. Thanks.

All day I hear the noise of waters
Making moan,
Sad as the sea-bird is when, going
Forth alone,
He hears the winds cry to the water's
Monotone.

The grey winds, the cold winds are blowing
Where I go.
I hear the noise of many waters
Far below.
All day, all night, I hear them flowing
To and fro.

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A Poem by James Joyce

vendredi 26 février 2016

Three

I was brushing my teeth
Gently
So the gums wouldn't bleed.
As then they are healthy
And all is well.
When you spit out white foam
It's gonna be a good day.
If you turn the tap off three times
Nobody dies.
If you don't cut your lover
They don't bleed
And all is well.
All things come to pass.
But never pass blood.
three times.

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Three

Voice In My Head

"You do not need to be afraid." Said the voice. "You are my child." I woke up suddenly and just then my alarm clock chimed. I rubbed my temple and sighed. Later that day I went to see my therapist. I lay on a long couch as my therapist jots down what I'm explaining. "Its been two months with that same dream. I hear a voice in my head as if whoever is talking is in my room. I don't ever remember seeing who was talking but I remember the words." My therapist nodded. "Mhmm. How do you spend your days? Are you doing anything that can relate to what you dream? I thought for a moment. "No. I don't think so. I don't have a job right now and I lack the luxury of friends so I don't have much of a reason why." My therapist said, "I can prescribe some medication that might help with the night dreams. A sleep aid." I shook my head, "No. I don't want to start taking any pills." "Well then. I cant say why you are having these dreams but I would recommend that you come back next week. Think about my offer." "Ok." I said. I was starting my car to go home and the radio was on. I was going to turn it off when I heard someone talking. I left the radio on for a moment. I heard the man on the radio say, "Sometimes God speaks to us through signs. Sometimes he reaches us in our sleep. Even our dreams. He- The radio started to become fuzzy with static. I tried to adjust the radio, but the voice was gone. I paused. "Even in our dreams." I spoke out loud. "What if God is trying to tell me something? I never been much of a church goer or even religious. Why would He even try?"
I went home and sat on my couch to watch some T.V. I was about to change the channel on the T.V. when the program that was already on was a sermon with a pastor preaching. I turned up the volume. "Have you been wondering about God's love for you? Have you ever heard something that turned you to His attention? If so, you may want to pray for understanding." The program had about a minute left and ended. I sat up. "Well. Maybe I can try to pray. But why? Might as well." I never really prayed but I've seen people do it on the T.V." I got down on my knees. I waited for something to say. I closed my eyes. "God. I know that I never really spoke to you about anything ever. I am confused about something, a dream. I ask you God to forgive me of my sins. I'm sorry that I never take time with you. I know I'm not like the man on the radio or the pastor of that sermon." I started to speak more clearer. The words I prayed started to make sense. "I believe in you Jesus. I ask you to redeem me. Make me new. Make me a believer." After I was done praying I stood up. I felt like a weight was taken from me that was so heavy before. "Well. Now what?" I thought.
Later next week I was driving to my therapist appointment. I was listening to a sermon on the radio. I was listening to the man talking about God's love and I tried turning up the radio. Just then a car veered in my lane and I swerved in oncoming traffic. It happened so fast. All I heard was tires screeching. And then nothing. There was a bright, white light, and I opened my eyes. Suddenly I heard a voice. "You do not need to be afraid." Said the voice. "Your my child." Then I realized something. All that time the dream was God's voice preparing me for this day. If I never heard those voices on the radio or the T.V. that brought me to pray I would have never surrendered my life in order for God who is taking me home now. I smiled. "Thank you."

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Voice In My Head

What God is and what you are

You are the glistening gem in His eyes.
You are the song to His ears.
Every breath you breathe is a gift from God.
He calls you His best friend no matter what shame you bear.
You are as graceful as a deer in a meadow.
Like a beautiful sunset that lulls you to sleep.
Like the morning fog that lifts when you wake.
You are loved by the one who never changes.
Like a love song that lasts for an eternity.
Like a gurgling spring, He will lead you to the water that quenches your soul with mercy.
He will give you his hand when you seek Him.
His face is so radiant with love that even the angels have to shade themselves with their wings from the shine.
Like the dew on a spider web, He will catch you on the web of His grace.
When the night is long and you await the morning, His loving embrace will hold you still.
Like a fire that needs to be fed, His heart is hungry for you.
No need to settle for less, He grants gifts for us if we just ask.
Weather your crying or singing, He will lift you to higher places.
God will find you in the storm your in and command the clouds to part with sun.
He is the one who made you before there was time and when He did, He had to step back and say, "Your beautiful."
When your just getting by in life and you yearn for more, He can use you in wonderful ways.
Like a eagle that soars above the clouds, He will make you soar higher than the stars.
If your past hurts you, He will hold your heart and speak "That was then, this is now. Your made new."
If you've seen joy and regret and think that's all there is to see, He will speak favor in your direction and get you off the side lines and into the game.
If you are standing on the shore of God's ocean afraid to get wet, just jump in and be overwhelmed by loving grace.
If you think God is holding a mallet over everything you say and do, know that He is for you, not against you.
God's mercy reigns forever.

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What God is and what you are

jeudi 25 février 2016

Straight Flush – A review of the novel ‘The Perfect Hand’

“If money’s the god people worship, I’d rather go worship the devil instead.” – Jess C. Scott

Author Patty Lesser’s novel ‘The Perfect Hand’ as the title suggests revolves around a game of poker. But this isn’t just another ordinary card game, as this high stakes game of life is being played by five close friends against a religious fanatic. And what hangs in balance is the freedom and fate of millions of American lives. By taking due risks and calling their opponent’s bluff, these five friends must purge the latest threat to their countrymen’s lives.

Handling a topic that is sensitive and topical in many sense, this fictional novel tells the story of a religious fanatic and his close knit army of believers who thinks only they have the answer to life’s problems. And all hell breaks loose when they set out to enforce what they think is good for everyone else. Such a theme as unfortunate as it sounds has raised its ugly head in many parts of the world before and continues to transpire today as well. So while the obstacle in the plot is quite believable, what requires a leap of faith from the reader is the method in which the religious fanatic and his group go about trying to control the population.

But what holds the novel together is its central characters, the five friends-since-college mates’ camaraderie is moving and believable. This has been portrayed with the help of convincing back stories and natural sounding dialogues; these are the kind of lines you imagine close buddies with a shared history will say to each other. The way these characters deal with a particular predicament also reveals the tightness within the group. These five characters are quite different from one another and their dissimilarity can be felt in their reaction and their thought processes as well. The antagonist camp too gets a good set of characters, though not as well developed as the protagonists. There are many secondary characters in the book in the form of spouses, girlfriends, police officers, media people and a taxi driver; and they all contribute towards the plot.

The author has been able to successfully capture the mental psyche of five grown men with diverse aptitudes. The correlation between the friends’ love for poker and a similar game like strategy in tackling their enemies is handled nicely. And then there’s some wonderful writing in the scene where Gary conducts a web podcast.

The book can rightfully be called a thriller as it offers plenty of hair-raising moments as are usually found within this genre. But a few long drawn out scenes and dialogue pieces does tend to slow down the pace of the story, and is the only misgiving you’ll have in an otherwise fine narrative.

Patty Lesser should be appreciated for dreaming up of a society that places honesty and equality above religious fanaticism. Read it for the above mentioned reasons and the nicely portrayed bromance between the lead characters.

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Straight Flush – A review of the novel ‘The Perfect Hand’

Nabokov's Lolita: must you have read all the books Nabokov alludes to in this novel..

First time I read Lolita I read it literally, like fundamentalists like to read their holy scripture. But the book "The Annotated Lolita" tells us that almost every line of this book is harboring a second, invisible one, referring to mythology or Nabokov's contemporary writers. So must you really read all those books he supposedly referred to, to fully gain insight in this novel? How multi-layered is Nabokov's cake really? Are we not giving him too much credit?

I had some thoughts about this novel, that may contribute to the layers. For instance Humbert Humbert...the double or twin name itself....it sounds like a latin name for an animal, as in the binomial nomenclature as once proposed by Carolus Linnaeus. Maybe even Alois Humbert has something to do with it. Hummingbird Hummingbird.

Literally taken from the book itself:

"when two bearded bathers, the old man of the sea and his brother, came out of the sea with exclamations of ribald encouragement, and four months later she died of typhus in Corfu."

Some writers refer to "the old man and the sea" by Ernest Hemingway but I do not see a link there with Hemingway's brother. I think this text much rather refers to Poseidon and his brother Hades, the latter of which, according to mythology, once kidnapped a girl and placed her on an island for the time being.

The problem is....if every goddamn page of Lolita is to be read between the lines how can one rest when her only writer is dead to check it for sure? I once hated to read this book but started to love to hate it at the same time and read it all over again and again and every time I did I saw new things, that probably Nabokov himself must have overlooked. Yeah Right.

My question boils down to: was Nabokov's intention, writing this book, ambiguous, in the sense that he knew he wrote a book that was rather perfect without the reader even having to try to read between the lines? I once promised myself to read James Joyce Ulysses....but really... how safe am I from hidden messages in latter book compared to the former? I want to read a book but not a book by a writer who tries to encipher his intentions with hidden allusions to other books on every page. That is like reading a Wikipedia page that got you mouseclick on every blue word in the scripture....forming a rip curl that moves you from the original subject bit by bit until you can no longer see the shore and makes you type corny **** "how the hell did I end up in this ****e?".

The scary part of Nabokov's work here is: even when read literally, it's still a very good book. Scary as it may be, I believe a lot of people can write such a novel at first notice. All it takes is a good novel as a backbone, and then you add some subliminal gestures about mythology and some nasty stuff about your contemporary writer colleges....a witches brew if you will. Practice makes perfect. Funny to see that Lolita today really knows no follow up to this very day. I always laugh at myself when I condemn people who read this book and said its a book a pedophile would have in his library. I am sure a lot of pedophiles have this book because they read it literally and are totally unaware of the yummy layered cake that lies underneath all its apparent superficial pedosexual banality.

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Nabokov's Lolita: must you have read all the books Nabokov alludes to in this novel..

Literature Network Forums

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To Kill a Mockingbird: how old is Scout Finch really when she is writing all this?

In Lee Harper's novel "To Kill a Mockingbird" how old is Jean Louise "Scout" Finch when she drops her lines on us readers? Perhaps someone knows by heart. I reckon I never finished the book but I am too lazy to read it all over again but it got to me once again the day Harper Lee died. I always thought she said something about "one year ago".... while she was writing in the present tense. She talks/writes like an adult with a rather high IQ - speaking grown up language throughout. Was she a child prodigy or just rendering her story decade(s) later? If someone can remember one's childhood in such vivid details it would explain for a lot.....and yes, I know Harper wrote it but I'm talking about Scout Finch, the protagonist. Just wondered whether or not I missed out on something from within this book. I will one day read it again I suppose.

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To Kill a Mockingbird: how old is Scout Finch really when she is writing all this?

Trouble uploading pics

Whenever I try to upload a photo to an album, I get an error message saying I do not have permission to perform this action, and that I should refresh the page and login. I've investigated and it seems the action of attempting to upload the photo is logging me out, but each time I log back in and try again, the same thing happens. Can someone help? Thanks.

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Trouble uploading pics