Welcome to the 500th post of Beautiful Monsters!!
This entry was created by live party blogging...
And... wooooh, comments are working again! (Hooray for Carla!)
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Late November afternoon at a friend's house
I haven't been to before
Spring flowing through two open doors
Her birth pains nowhere to be seen today
Just birth
A host of new colours
Strange and rich new fuits
On the bookshelf Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
Over the Rhine over the speakers
Onion and Balsamic chips for goodness' sake
And new people flavours too
And fear
The old ingredient
That makes the rest seem new
Makes the rest rich
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Gareth:
I got this joke from a waiter at a Welsh bar:
A man walks into a bar.
"Ouch".
This is one I made up:
There are two dogs.
The first one says "Hi".
The other one says "Wow, a talking dog!".
Kay:
Lovely sunny day, the room open and airy like a sea-side cottage.
A kaleidoscope of food on offer - gem-like gummy bears, transparent rice paper rolls, fresh pesto, corn chips & rock melon ( keep with the cantaloupe)...
Sitting with Fionnaigh the rebel who's never seen a Star Wars film but is very familiar with Buffy the Vampire Slayer...... Its hard to leave .. but ..
Au'voir for now.
Caroline here. they say that when a whale dies at sea, it sinks to the ocean floor, and a huge colony of creatures develops on the whale, of many different species. This supports lots of creature that live nowhere else, and continues the food chain. But we're running out of whales cos they got killed to make corsets and whale oil. At the same time, we're running out of cemetery space for dead people. I'm wondering if we cn weigh down the dead people so they sink to the bottom of the sea and feed the endangered creatures. Then it would all flow thorugh the food chain, and there would always be more fish in the sea.
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hi everyone - I'm sitting in the late afternoon sun sipping wine and enjoying the delicious snacks that Fi has prepared.
So this my first blog is dedicated to raving about the amazing multi-talented Fi who does theology with filo pastry and who paints images with words from her soul...
On the ocassion of Fi's 500th blog we wish to officially claim back a whole lot of words that have been "stolen" of their real meaning...
gargle
bush
destiny
affirm
enough is enough
crikey!
reconciliation
If you have other suggestions words to relcaim please post!
In our writings are our meanings but when we put them out there then those meanings are not ours anymore - that is the risk we take in sharing our thoughts, our hopes, our visions, our fears - the risk that they get "taken" the woring way. But then they also get taken to amazing places they might not have got to otherwise...
I've always loved 1/7 =0.142857 recurring, and it relation to repunit numbers; likewise the relationshipof all prime reciprocals to repunit numbers. Like the list of all repunit numbers contains all primes.
It's great to be here at Roy St, I knew someone who lived in this street years
ago and I have a good friend in the Newtown Park flats round the corner.
I went to a 21st birthday last night and a nice social the night before so it's
been a good weeked. (Tony)
Can you think of a word that is utterly unambiguous - a word that has only one meaning, only one use?
Like maybe waysgoose. Can anyone think of more than one interpretation of waysgoose?
Or petrichor?
Paul has always said that golf is a test of one's saintliness.
Frank's son's golf is still in the garage.
The difference between Timaru and yoghurt is that yoghurt contains an active living culture.
Insistently pink is having a civil union with scintillating purple.
Conversation of the moment: That Stadium...
$500 Million? How much is one game really worth? Think what else we could do with that money...
With global warming, by the time it's finished it will have to be a waterpolo stadium...
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Congrats on 500. That's a whole heapa writing! Keep up the good work and be kind to yourself. You're a neat person!
Malcolm
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Frank has brought along a poem by Anita Heiss, from 'untreated' poems by black writers. The poem is called White and Black poetry readings: distinct differences. This is causing some debate. We say "not all white poetry readings are wanky" and "not all white people are free..." It's a very black and white poem. The world isn't quite that black and white, is it?
Jatz Crackers, block cheese and chardonnay sipping
Politics, emotions and conscience ripping
Big words to aid the mental masturbation
Simple message: Aboriginal incaceration
The blackness of night and stars so bright
Chanting for basic human rights
I've done my bit for reconcilliation
While I'm still begging for self-determination
There is no difference between you and me
Except that you write from a position of being free.
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Sue is not a blogger, but she has brought homegrown lemons and roses.
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Wonderful to be part of your blog party Fionnaigh and thanks for the take-away food for my boy. Here's a poem about food for my boy.
Love Penny
Breakfast Puzzle
It is twenty questions every morning.
Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?
I am a generous mother,
I can cook bacon.
I believe in meat.
Vegemite, is vegetable
and mineral.
Cobalt on toast is delicious.
I can do it
in dots.
If there is no time for pancakes
there is Milo. A drink,
or a fortified cereal.
Milk is always in my fridge.
With raw egg there is protein
for growth.
A banana milkshake has
phosphorous
so you shine.
Peanut butter is tasty with marmalade.
There is white, half-white, half-brown
or brown toast.
Tell me what you want
for breakfast dear boy;
tell me.
I do not want you
to be small
like me.
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Filed under fun:
The Bible is Bullshit
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Thank you all for coming to the party (that includes you, dear readers). It's been lovely!
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The last word:
filipendulous
Coming up with a children's Christmas service with a bunch of children who are politically liberal and theologically cynical gets harder every year.
While browsing for resources on the internet I came across ChildrensMinistry.com. I didn't make it as far as their Christmas resources, because I was so stunned by their section on "Civic Duties: Patriotic Activities For Kids". This includes Patriotism Lessons, Prayer and Care Packages for families in the armed forces, and Patriotic Crafts.
Some ideas:
Children decorate a paper frame with markers and patriotic stickers, Each child then has his or her picture taken with the American flag...
Kids decoupage small slips of paper with the Pledge of Allegiance printed on them onto a 4x6-inch block of wood. Then kids add red, white, and blue sticker stars around the edges...
Say: "Let's practice being loyal to our country by making our country's flag." Give children paper and markers. Show them a picture of the flag and have them create a flag to match it. Help children tape their flag to a plastic straw so they can wave it.
Have groups each write a letter to the leader of your country, expressing their loyalty to the leader. Send the letters later.
I wonder how long I would last if I actually tried any of these on the kids? When talking about Christmas ideas last week one of the kids described Herod as "A mean guy" and another one piped up "maybe we could get Don Brash to be him in our play!"
Hmmm, maybe it's time for a little talk. Right-wing politicians may sometimes seem like "mean guys"... but I don't think Brash has massacred any innocents lately.
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A couple of nights ago I was reading a book (not the bible actually, but Woman why do you weep? Spirtuality for survivors of Childhood sexual abuse) and I came across this verse (Isaiah 43:2 from the “New American Bible”:
When you pass through the water, I will be with you; in the rivers you shall not drown.
I keep reading it over and over. I can never really connect with an idea of God like the one in the “Footsteps” posters, who has supposedly carried me through the hard times. Looking back I don't feel like I was carried along a beach, I feel like I was thrashing around in (and sometimes under) the water.
I like the Isaiah verse so much because it doesn’t say "God will lift you out of the water". I don't think that there's always the potential for floating. I mean some people seem to struggle in the water right till the end, and I don't think it's because they've done something wrong. It seems to me that the ability to “manage” or “float” is as much to do with random luck as suffering is. I mean some people get more than their fair share of suffering. And some of them seem to have the disposition and resources to "manage" it. I don't think that people who don't manage, or don't float, have done something wrong in their spiritual journey.
I’d like to believe in a God who is in the water with me, who maybe can't carry me, but doesn't leave me, and makes sure if I go under I come back up.