I was watching ‘Fresh Off The Boat ‘ the segment ended with, Jessica and Louis Huang swinging around Bug Zappers the size of a small Ping-Pong racket, with the look of a tennis rack’s weaved mesh with the added benefit of a stun gun.
I did an online search when my husband insisted that if they were real they would be dangerous. He said, “imagine if you had one of those things and you were standing next to me.” Then he stopped and waited for my answer.
A thought bubble appeared above my head, smoke came out my ears, thenI saw his point. I am very clumsy. I will walk into a closed sliding glass door, -even if it plastered with stickers of giant pandas holding up stop signs,- I would still run right into the door.
I have walked under a beehive then tapped the dirt off my shoes at the base of the tree.
I have tip-toed around animal burrows when thought I was out of the woods, I turned and then stepped into a freshly made burrow.
I have tried to catch my cat, who I believed had gotten out of the house, and it wasn’t my cat but a skunk.
Speaking of skunks, I had pulled my dogs away from the fence and got a full on spray from the skunk they were harassing.
I drove the tractor into a wet area of fresh mud
I walked upon a sleeping buck.
I still have nightmares about the forty-pound raccoon that attempted to eviscerate me
So this interesting bug zapper, -which to me seems perfectly logical –I want it. But… my husband stood his ground with a, ‘no way’he said,‘ he can see me heading to the ER.’ His point… is that if I start waving that racket around, he could see me hitting my own leg, or him.
Can you hear those Crickets, again?
Hmmm! I hit him a few times and knocked his coffee cup out of his hand. It wasn’t my fault I was chasing around paper wasps and yellow jackets.
Okay, I see his point.
Back to my online search, I found them. They are real. Yes, I was shocked….
Oddly enough, someone made a comment that this was clean fun. Excuse me, but a bug zapper fries a bug, spreading its remains around. And my flyswatter spatters the bugs… pick your weapon warm weather is just around the corner.
Today is Martin Luther King Jr. Day. I remember the first time I heard his name; I was looking down the barrel of a sawed-off shotgun that was being held by a guy between six and twelve years older than I was. I remember thinking how black that gun was and wondering why it was wrapped with dirty, ragged tape.
“The tensions are not between the races, but between the forces of justice and injustice; between the forces of light and darkness.”~ Martin Luther King JR.
I was trying to get home without running into anyone. I had just left school, Ryerson elementary. I was in full sprint and had stepped off the curb when a car screeched to a halt in front of me. My heart skipped a beat, knowing that if I had taken two steps, instead of one -off that curb, I would have painted the hood of their car. I froze.
An ugly looking blunt sawed-off shotgunwas stuck out the back window and was pointed at my abdomen. I took a step back. I couldn’t escape; the car and the gun, I had nowhere to escape to, they had blocked me in. I was to close. I went out of my way to avoid being trapped, to dodge getting within arm’s length, of anyone. To be this close, meant I wasn’t in control. Where I stood, I knew that bullet had changed the length of my arms. If I ran I was dead. If I stood here I was dead. I felt dead.
(I am cleaning up the dialogue so I can post it here)
The guy in the front passenger seat spat out, “Shoot her, so we can get outta here.”
“Wait! Why are you shooting me?”
“You know, just shoot her.”
The kid in the back seat was holding a gun, he was sweating, we made eye contact, and he looked away.
“Wait! You can shoot me- after you tell me why” I said as I made eye contact with the eyes connected to that gun.
A steady disembodied voice, called out, “Shoot her!”
The guy with the gun said. ”Naw, I’ll tell her.”
I felt the seconds pass. I could see and taste the thick, black smoke rising above the houses to my left. I heard the sound of the corner store’s screen door open behind me, it creaked then slammed as someone ran back inside; whatever they were saying was lost in the pounding of my heart.
I focused on the three guys in the back of the car; there were three more in the front. They were excited, talking fast, yelling. “Shoot her!” I kept my focus on the kid in the back seat. The one with the gun, it was heavy in his hand, I saw the tape on the gun, on his wrist. He pointed it down at the cracked sidewalk. I exhaled.
The guy in the front seat raised his hand and flipped it, everyone went silent, then he said, “Okay- we killn’ you. You killed King’
“Who is that?”
“Don’t be stupid, ya know him! You killed him!” one of the guys in the front passenger seat sneered, “Shoot ‘er!”
I snorted and took a stance as if they didn’t scare me. I loosened my hold on my schoolbooks; relaxed my body, and then I took a step sideways. That gave me a better look at the front seat of the car, besides taking me one step further away from that gun. I considered a run towards the front of their car. Except, if that guy in the back seat decided to raise that gun up and pull the trigger, I knew, I couldn’t outrun a bullet. If I ran I would be a moving target. I had a chance if I could get their minds off that gun, maybe, just maybe I can move that target off my stomach. I asked, “How could I kill him? I don’t know him!”
“Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.”~Martin Luther King JR.
“He don’t know you,” he gestured to the guy behind him, “He’ll kill you.”Front passenger seat guy laughed, the rest of the guys followed suit and laughed, except for the kid in back with the gun. He was as scared as I was.
“I didn’ kill anyone. Wait! Tell me who he is”
“Who is Martin Luther King, what’d he do? Who is he? Why are ya trying to kill me in his name?”
The guy in the backseat touched the back of the front passenger seat with the gun. “She don’ know him, I don’ like dis man. Let her go.”
“Aw! Come on! We is here t’kill a….”
“I thought ya wanted to kill King’s killer.” I said.
Someone else said, “This ain’t fun nomo. -Listen kid ya go find out who King is and we gonna be driving around. When we come back u dead-if we see ya. Gonna be no talkin. Got it!”
“It is not enough to say we must not wage war. It is necessary to love peace and sacrifice for it.”~ Martin Luther King JR
They attempted to squeal their wheels as they took off; instead, they left a trail of black smoke and tire marks. Before the car pulled fully away from me, I sprinted around the back of the car took a right at the corner and slipped into my house, where my parents were staring at the television. I could hear the warnings to stay indoors due to the riots. Black smoke was settling in the alley. Sirens, screaming, horns were honking, shots sounded.
I was born and raised a couple of miles from the apartment building where Martin Luther King, moved into as a protest. That area was burning. My neighborhood was burning. And this was just the start.
“The limitation of riots, moral questions aside, is that they cannot win and their participants know it. Hence, rioting is not revolutionary but reactionary because it invites defeat. It involves an emotional catharsis, but it must be followed by a sense of futility.” ~ Martin Luther King JR
What I learned later that day, from my father, was that, Martin Luther King was a peaceful man, who wanted everyone to be equal all the violence in his name didn’t make any sense. Not then. Not now.
In this Blog Post,I will give you an update on January 10th post, ‘Looking for Something I can’t see’ I had redone experiment one, ‘The Dude Abides Principle’.And started experiment two.
I asked the universe for a sign, any sign – no later than January, 12th at 3:32 PM.
At 3:20 PM I was standing at the kitchen window, looking out over the moving sea of dry winter grass. The last few days- before the 12th – temperatures had hovered over the freezing mark then spiking to over 50 degrees; before that, sub-zero temperatures had slammed us again and again since late December. It had, for a moment, warmed up allowing the snow to start melting into heart attack snow, then slowly disappearing. By the 12th of January, the snow on the deck had melted and the boards had dried up and the weather was once more January cold.
“Do you know how the naturalist learns all the secrets of the forest, of plants, of birds, of beasts, of reptiles, of fishes, of the rivers and the sea? When he goes into the woods the birds fly before him and he finds none; when he goes to the river-bank, the fish and the reptile swim away and leave him alone. His secret is patience; he sits down, and sits still; he is a statue; he is a log”. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
I was staring out the windowwhen I glanced up at the clock. It was inching close to 3:30 PM. My attention was captured by movement on the glass a fluttering of tiny grey transparent wings moved around the ‘outside’ of the glass. An insect, no longer than an eighth of an inch, with wings that folded up, cloaking its entire body. When it settled on the outside of the window. I looked past it to the ice that had formed on the railing and deck flooring, to the snow appearing and disappearing, floating past the tiny bug. I watched it shake its wings open and flew. It flew! It flew away from the window and out into the cold air, taking its chances, enjoying this moment-its moment- one moment.
I blinked. Checked the time, it was 3:32 PM. When I looked back, It had disappeared. Now, this wouldn’t be unusual if it were November or April. But in January, after we have had the worst sub-zero weather I have ever seen. Even with the usual warm up the day before, when it had been 55 degrees Fahrenheit (12.7 Celsius). Even with that warm up, there was no way any insect was going to hatch and then hang around the window.
But it happened.
I got my message for experiment #1
What about experiment #2? Those bright green leaves on a tree? My indoor plants don’t count, besides I don’t have an indoor tree, well not anymore.
I will give that one until tomorrow at 3:32 PM to show up. I can’t wait to see what happens.
Yes, I admit it. I am having a brain fog day. So, I ask myself, where will an idea immerge from- for today’s blog post. I can pick up a book, I muttering and pick up my cat, Karou, and wander aimlessly around the house. Futzing with this, straightening that. Then I unscrew the top of the cat food container. I had ordered some cat food yesterday, from PetSmart, but it won’t be delivered until Tuesday.
I lift off the top to look inside, then Karou looks inside. Her ears go back, then up, then they swirl around. Her eyes grow bigger and she got a look that said, ‘Oh, no! We gonna starve.”
At that point,the Russian Blues, Kenji and Enishi, saunter into the kitchen like a couple of at ease looking-for-trouble kitties; until Karou leans out of my arms and sends out a silent, yet very loud, call for them to come and take a look. Which they did, with a silent leap up to the counter, where both of them, take turns sticking their heads in their nearly empty cat food container.
If you have cats,then you would recognize that look… ‘We all gonna die’ panic that takes over when their cat bowl is showing a smidgen of the bottom of the dish, even when their food container is filled to the brim- they will still panic. And now, with a couple of cups of food left, they could not believe their eyes or their noses. They look not-once, not -twice, but five times- then the panic set in. Then the depression.
At first, they stare at each other; doing that silent talking thing they do, then they leap off the counter and race around the kitchen checking and counting bowls. (Yes, real cats can count)Two of their dishes were missing. One was in the dish drainer. The other in the living room, where, Tomoe had me bring it earlier, she had gotten hungry while watching Hercules (She does need her fix of Kevin Sorbo)
I had to stop their silent callfor a new commander in chief/head honcho/ President/ a new alpha. They were in a hyper state of panic. Their food bins were two cups short of empty. Call out the troops! Everyone, pack up we are being kicked out! Quick, someone grab the catnip! Where are my toys! EEEEK!
Then,Michael walks into the kitchen. He looks around and snickers, picks up the empty dish, adds food to it, then sets it back on their table. He disappears for a moment as he retrieves the cat bowl from the living room.
The panic vibration level drops instantly.They shook off the worry as they start eating.
Nowin my mind, I hear him saying. ‘You were right, their food should have been ordered last week’.
Instead, he looks straight at me and says, “It’s your fault,” then he adds, I’ll go to Jewel and pick up some Iams tomorrow”
My eye twitches and I ask, “Why not tonight?”
“I still have one coke left.”Karou chirps. Michael scoops her up and heads back to his Xbox.
I looked at my writer’s toolbox of writing books and I pulled The Weekend Novelistoff my shelf. My copy has a copyright date of 1994. There are newer versions, but this is the one on my bookshelf. A bird in hand.
This book has created book clubs, writers groups, Blog posting and the creative fuel to start a writer, writing. I figured it would make a great post and it may just add fuel to my creative muse. Hear that muse! I hope you are paying attention!
According to the book, the first weekend I am to do a character sketch.
The last time I pulled this book off its shelf, I made tiny marks along the side margins pointing to books to read. Some I have read and will read again and again. I still have a couple left to read. For this post, I listed out those books referenced in the ‘getting started section’ page 3 thru 10. I may have missed a few.
Woman of Letters: A life of Virginia Woolf by Phyllis Rose
The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler
Timetables of History ( An author wasn’t specified. See below for the links I found)
The Art of Fiction by John Gardner
The Craft of Novel Writing by Oakley Hall
Writing Fiction by Janet Burroway
The Woman’s Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets by Barbara Walker
Screenplay and The Screenwriter’s Workbook by Syd Field
The hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell
The Heroine’s Journey by Maureen Murdock
Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg
Max Perkins: Editor Of Genius by Scott Berg:
The Writer on Her Work by Janet Sternberg
If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland
For the first weekend’s instructions are to do a character sketch. In my 1994 copy you are told to make up a character by using a real person, maybe using someone you see at the store, use specific details; height, sex, hair all the basic descriptions, then go on to how they move, walk, sit then go into your imagination and wonder at where they live, their favorite things, hobbies, vehicles, motives. This is where you are to imagine and let your drama mind take over.
My thoughts on creating a character:What are your character’s extraordinary talents? If you are writing a fantasy story your character may be able to read minds, or fly, or is telekinetic. Maybe they can solve puzzled, or a mystery. Maybe they are just very nice and can talk to everyone they meet. They can climb trees, whittle, great with babies, or gardening. Keep in mind that no character sheet is set in stone. Feel free to make it up as you go along
Try to imagine what makes them tick, or ticks them off in their own world. By the time you finish the sketch your character should become real. In the meantime that the person who you are staring would have gotten the heebie-jeebies and moved on. Wouldn’t you if someone was staring at you and frowning, tsk-tsking then laughing?
If a year is too long, and you want to write faster, I found this great link at The Guardian for ‘How to write a book in 30 days’. This link will take you to a page with authors; you have to scroll down to find all the links to the book. How to write a book in 30 days’ Each page provides you parts of the book and a free PDF of the worksheets from the book. All for free.
Extra links I found online.
Timetables of History:Have fun searching through these
“Drama is also, just a form of myth. Myth is a poetic statement of an unverifiable reality. Like, myth is not false it’s just unverifiable. Like, for example, Jesus Christ died for our sins. It’s not false if you are a Christian, that’s the essence of your life. You just can’t point to it on a sheet piece of paper and say, see here. But its none the less true for that. so myth, again, is a statement of a truth that is unverifiable and so is drama, drama evolves us in the quest of a human being to achieve something.” ~David Mamet, Masterclass
“ Yes, I understand how at every step this human being was trying to achieve something and they underwent traumas I can’t even begin to imagine and they doubted themselves and they all wanted to quit every hero and heroine wants to quit…” ~David Mamet, Masterclass
I would love to write out every word David Mamet said in this lesson. I can’t.
The shortened version: “Drama is the stepchild of religion” and “humans are basically insane”and “all drama is the same as a joke the joke frees us from reason.”
What I took away isthat I have been looking at ‘drama’ from the wrong end. I was looking at it as a teachable moment when all it really is…. the cause from the effect.
Think of when Lucy got a job in a candy factory and the conveyer belt started to run faster and faster.
Think of a time you over embellished at that family dinner or the time you caught a fish or how many steps you climbed when the elevator wasn’t working. That is drama, you’re telling a story. You are not trying to make a point, and just embellishing those three steps into a hundred or how big that fish really was, gives us the drama we so love to express.
I do wish I could tell you everything David Mamet talks about in this lesson # 03 Purpose of Drama (Cont’d)
If you are interested in checking out this course by Clicking HERE or click on ‘David Mamet’ in the upper left sidebar just above James Patterson.
Other posts different lesson for David Mamet’s Masterclass series
I did the first experiment, The Dude Abides Principle, I asked the universe for a sign and I am still waiting; it could be I missed it, so I am giving the Universe a second chance to send that sign. So by the 12th at 3:32 PM I want that sign. And by the way, Thank you! You’re doing a great job. (Hey, doesn’t hurt to suck up, right!)
Today’s chapter and Experiment #2
The Volkswagen Jetta Principle:
In this chapter, Pam Grout mentions physicist David Bohm, then shortens his theory by referencing a Walmart, then she states she’s not a fan of Walmart. Yes, They were both mentioned in the same paragraph.
If you are interested I found a PDF copy of David Bohm’s book, ‘Wholeness and the Implicate Order’ HERE.
As for Walmart, they may have thousands of products on their shelves, but what I have noticed, is how name brands are slipping away. Just saying.
Pam Grout writes about not being aware of things even if they are right in front of you. She writes that the human condition chooses to stay within their “comfort zones’ within ‘a comfort zone of negativity’….”…jumping from one depressing thought to another…”
She speaks of the phenomenon called, ‘collapse of the wave’ she states, “…it’s the moment someone looks at these energy waves, they solidify…”
My thought is that when anything disrupts the flow, then the flow will change. Sort of like the wind or water changes its flows when it runs into something. When something changes in our universe/life then our perception changes. Which is why most people hate change; it drops the floor out from under us, swirls it into an unrecognizable mess, until we can focus again.
“Learn to seek within for all the answers. Take time to be still, and find the answer in the silence. Never despair if it does not come immediately.” ~ Findhorn Inspiration
On to today’s Experiment #2.
For the next two days,you are to search out colors.
Pam’s instructions are to look for a specific color, in a thing of your choice, for the first 24 hours.
Say your intention out loud, ‘I hereby intend, for the next day of my life, to look for (name the specific item and color) Black skunks with white stripes.’ This one may be too easy; I should change it to bright green leaves on a bush. Huh! Try that one universe; it’s the middle of winter.
The second twenty-four hoursyour intentions will change to a different thing, in a different color. Her example was yellow butterflies. (Again, winter here.) Pam writes that a friend found yellow butterflies in a stationary store, another friend asks for a free cup of coffee.
I have to think more about this one. Maybe a suitcase of green Bills with Benjamin Franklin’s picture on them.
Now on to the last page in this chapter, page 51 and the ‘Lab Report Sheet.’ On this sheet, I am to add up how many of those colorful things I had asked the universe to show me, how many actually showed up.
Remember this is all to take place within 48 hours.
I am sure the universe can multitask; I am awaiting that sign from the first lesson.
David Mamet’s Second Video ‘Purpose Of Drama’ Masterclass
David Mamet is sitting in front of the camera in a rustic room; its walls are paneled in wood, a lamp is on the table set behind and off to his right it’s casting a relaxing orange glow. Over his left shoulder are papers and sticky notes connected to the far wall, while directly next to his left arm, sits an old typewriter and a stack of closed books or journals. A vintage 1900’s metal desk lamp reaches up on a double-jointed arm, which is locked in a straight up positioned, and tilted ever so slightly back so its parabolic unfinished aluminum shade can illuminate the desktop when he chooses to turn it on.
David Mamet starts talking:
“The Purpose of drama that is a really, really good question. That’s a really good question. There is an old, – I am Jewish, my people have only been Jewish five-six thousand years, so we’re kinda getting used to it.
So, There’s an old joke about this international flight and this terrorist breaks in with a submachine gun. And he says, “Okay, who’s a Jew?”
And a little old guy in the back says, “That a really interesting question.”
So, that’s how I kind of feel about drama; I think the purpose of drama is to define the clan.” ~ Video #2 David Mamet
He goes on to describe drama what it is, and what it is not.
It is not: meant to teach you.
It is: meant to entertain you.
And everyone uses drama to over embellish his or her daily lives.
When my husband asks the time. I round the hour up so he thinks it later than it is. Subtle drama? Or…
“What time is it?
“No, it seems earlier.”
If it was earlier I would have taken out the garbage.”
“What’s stopping you now?’
“I promised my friend I would be on Xbox.”
“Well, lucky for you I saw it wrong, you have an extra thirty minutes.”
“Sorry, no can do. I already logged on, can you take it out for me?”
“You were already logged in!”
“Yeah! But I thought it was later than it was”
My example: Taking a vacation and having to sit through a sales pitch when all I wanted was to relax and be entertained won’t be a fun time. So stick to what you are selling. If it is a dramatic story you advertised, then don’t push a condo down your reader’s throats.
My thoughts: If your story has a harsh sales pitch, tone it way down. The idea will still be there, but it will be felt and talked about after the book is read or when the movie is over.
The drama is everything. Give it its space. Allow people to enjoy the story.
I will not tell you everything from his Masterclass videos. If I did you would miss out on a hearing him talk. If you would like to check out David Mamet’s Masterclass, click on the link in the top left sidebar. It’s sitting just above James Patterson’s Masterclass.
“I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
Have you noticed, that some news sources have the ability to raise your blood pressure with a word, or phrase?
President Trump’s name seems to get people going. Add in words like, arrogant, had enough, mental illness, rich.
The word racist has an intense following of hate. I have seen it used just to cause anger. Ethnically challenged?
And any phrase:this is mine, not yours. Not your culture.
White man- Black man; Why can’t we just say man?
With any of those things, if you give your opinion, you will be torn apart.
(Nope! I will not add screenshots of Twitter and there are plenty)
I remember when the words ‘taxes’ or ‘gas prices’ and ‘you’re just like your mother’, was the way to start an argument.
It is so much easier to click away and mentally agree to disagree, without an actual conversation taking place.
“There are many doctrines of a less essential nature . . . In these we may think and let think; we may agree to disagree. But, meantime, let us hold fast the essentials . . .”~ John Wesley
Seems to be part of a group mentality, where you need to agree with that group. Now, that is easy enough. Just keep moving along. Keep your head down. Do your work and don’t talk. Really? What I hear is, your opinion, my opinion doesn’t matter. Which is true in any group mentality. That is how we are controlled. By being told not to think, not to notice what goes on around us.
What that brings about is a larger percentage of the population not able to stand up and say ‘I don’t agree’…. Yet, we are in the middle of a #METOO place. Where women, I am included, have tweeted out that they have been sexually harassed and aren’t going to take it anymore.
But,…. And there is always a but.
How many of you remember just a few years, months ago, that acknowledging sexual harassment in the workplace was a laughable offense. And you became part of the outside group. There were those who tossed hate at you for even thinking that sexual harassment was even real. I spoke to women who closed their eyes when it happened to them; their point was if they could stay silent then everyone needed to. And they didn’t want to lose their careers.Or those who said, how dare you stand-up and complain about that wonderful manager/supervisor/ co-worker, saying they had done something to you… You may have decided not to take it anymore, and you sign a complaint with HR.
Then you were fired. (Can you still hear that door slamming?)
Promoting hate is easy. We all love soap operas. We love to read about ‘other people’ when they trip up or their spouse does. Anger fuels debates, conflict, get’s us off our butts. It also gets people to follow you in your right-reason-cause to bring about discontent, because you feel hungry and penniless, trompe on and ignored.
Or it’s your job.
Some/most businesses are great at causing strife. To get people to read, to follow, it is essential to bring in new customers, to get those readers they use that blood pressure barometer; and they poke at that sleeping bear until he wakes up ready to fight. When you feel your blood pressure rising due to a comment on social media, take a step back, you are being used. That anger will help no one.
Well, unless you can make money off it. Using anything derogatory against President Trump, or calling someone a racist will bring in likes/hates but little real conversation.
Am I telling you not to comment? No way! What I am saying is, don’t be controlled.
If you are angry, find out if what you are angry about is real.
Read, research then step up. Get on your soapbox with real information. Agreeing with the ‘news’ just allows more of the same to keep spilling out.
I get it. Research is work, and you don’t want to do extra work.
So what should you do then..? Comment if you like.
I am one of many who started to scramble (a little late) and started searching for Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd when The David Bowie Book Club announced Ackroyd’s novel has been picked by David Bowie’s son Duncan Jones, @ManMadeMoon.
According to Duncan in the Rolling Stones article,“…his dad was a beat of a reader.” And “ his true love was author Peter Ackroyd. This is the first of his Dad’s 100 top books list.
Wonderful and all, but this is a very hard book to find.
Here is a blurb about the author Peter Ackroyd
“Novelist, biographer, and poet Peter Ackroyd was born in London on 5 October 1949. He graduated from Clare College, Cambridge, and studied at Yale University as a Mellon Fellow, where he completed Notes for a New Culture: An Essay on Modernism, published in 1976. On his return from Yale, he worked for The Spectator magazine in London as literary editor (1973-7), then as joint managing editor (1978-82) and film critic….”
~Read the rest of his biography on the British Council, Literature
What I have found out so far, Is that Peter Ackroyd wrote Hawksmoor after being inspired by the poem ‘Lud Heat’ by Iain Sinclair. And Lain Sinclair was inspired by the history of London’s churches, religions, and historical facts, such as Nicholas Hawksmoor worked for Sir Christopher Wren who designed and built St Paul’s Cathedral in the City of London. And how the placement of those churches brought a ‘psychogeographical’ tone which was described in1955 by Guy Debord a new awareness,“…the study of the precise laws and specific effects….” In Lain Sinclair’s book, Lud Heat, he shows us a map to explain his ideas Check out Amazon to see this preview.
And all this is set in religious history. Sounding a lot like the Bermuda Triangle set in London. Giving a reason to all the crazy things that happened in a specific area. Such as Jack The Ripper by bringing together the collective consciousness, causing things to happen due to the placement and the architecture of those churches. Or even a person’s perspective change when in contact with a new place.
All this background has me intensely curious. And I want to read the book. But I can’t seem to find a copy – anywhere!
Each part you click on, those links it will bring up a section of the book. Then you can save it as a PDF to read later. The PDF isn’t that perfect. I keep wondering if this is the real book. Hmmmm?
(I will send an email to Peter Ackroyd’s publisher to see if this site is crossing any copyright lines)
Remember to always run a virus scan on anything you copy of the internet.
Anyway…I am hoping to be able to read the entire book. If not I will be searching it out later and buying it when it is a lot less than $899.99. My library can’t even get a copy, its out and requested over and over.
Oh, well. I will be reading and tweeting on February 1st, 2018, right along with Duncan Jones @ManMadeMoon. Who will be talking about the book on his Twitter account- February 1st? Watch for it on Twitter.