Writer That Is — Writer That Shall Be

A Welcoming — Morning Papers I

To Get That Feeling — Välkommen — From The Aged Seer.

Today continues to venture out in front of me, like a spinning, rainbow turn top — I decided or sooner been willed to start several new blogs, one of them you’ll be reading this from, as well as the Medium comfort.

Many words come to me — ain’t nothing ever easy in the beginning; and that ain’t even a real word, in all lauded dictionaries! Huffle-ruffle… I do decompose — but isn’t it queer how words spin around — at least in my aged sense — in the mind during the earliest time of the day.

So, what tidings! What is new — what am I reading at this moment that doesn’t comprise sixteen-tight-tide-leatherbound tomes in a slouching fashion? At the moment, I will share with you, my dear traveler next to this here time transversal seer, that is I — of what I am dwelling in and around:

I — Hannah Arendt: The Origins Of Totalitarianism

By her prefaces to her parts of Antisemitism and Imperialism, I’m slowly gathering my own prospering perspective on not only the worth and fracture for some, that is Arendt but also the reason why I must and why I am reading this marvelous Woman, which is all I will state so far — but slowly, I’m sensing, it is clothing itself the outfit which is surprising me yet not utterly shocking me, which I’m glad for, as I cannot stand the indolence of a Shock-Scarer than the true worth of an ardent Academic and Bethinking mind of these beguiling, toiling thoughts.

So here are my traveler’s fingers crossed, and my heart raised.

II — Teofilo F. Ruiz: The Terror Of History

The foredooming gloom and grovel by the name alone, I sense you feel — and you may be right in concurrence between the truth of your own matters, and what it is in of itself, by the means of the Author, who I am finding an enduring companion into dark depths of thought; seeking this personal semblance of such a great multitude of things, that I seek myself to bring my own thoughts to full light in a later, fuller piece — and yes, that is a reference to Christian faith and by the method’s perception we all must use, as much as Teofilo does in this piece when dwelling into the annals of Humane Histories.

But I shall keep my shuffling mind there.

III — Steve Brusatte: The Rise And Fall Of The Dinosaurs

An excellent — excellent — excellent transversal through the aged remains of Dinosaurs and their accompanying kin, and that cemented rise in of itself and the humane touch to ever cleave and uncover said truth in its fullness.

And somewhat of a relieving piece from the two aforementioned pieces, yet the cosmological and indifferent Horror of Nature still belies the background pacing of my mind — ’tis I to time.

I’m trying really hard not to jump into a longwinded rant of adoration for this piece and the contains within but, unlike most other times, I shall restrain myself — or otherwise have you restrain me in a straight jacket and mouth brace; yet, still see me escape — like my old geezer Houdini; Hopefully, I don’t go like this final Act… Ah.

IV — Marco Polo — The Customs Of The Kingdoms Of India

My — Mate! You and I did not get off on a fond start for one another — so far, out of this series by Penguin and Random House, I’m almost despising this slouching piece of writing, but I refrain, and I shall give it another chance but I was so sapped of my energies when I first read this piece

V — Hölderlin — Essays — Letters — Selected Poems And Fragments

Have I EVER mentioned that I adore Penguin’s Black-spine series — that accent of the Red and the White, Whaa! Truly makes me gravitate to them almost like no other — I am a total book cover snob, that is no lie because believe me, I cannot stand bad covers, especially if they present their work in a manner akin to a cheap library in Pulaski! Sorry, but not sorry Pulaski — you were the timely home of the Ku Klux Klan! — Please, I’m hoping you’re spotting my hyperbolism, I cannot blame them! — Not necessarily; Cue, Smiley face, courtesy of a dear Friend :)

And yes, did I totally ignore speaking about Hölderlin in this bit about Hölderlin — Yes!; Maybe because I’m working on a number of German Writers in a new series — another one! — and Hölderlin is one of them, and I will stop mentioning his name now.

THE HOUNDS OF BASK

Taking a right fancy to all these glorious, lush Landseer Hounds. Look at this Newfoundland, with locks swishing in the cooling winds — what a dear!

Ever heard of a mop fringe — so did these Hounds! Ever the dear — ever the excellent painter of the dearborn babe!

This one in particular, and their adorable expression welded on their preaching face reminds me of a certain friend — I shan’t say who! But look at them — such beauty — such grace!:

So let's conclude this Morning Paper — Though, considering my limited experience with linear time, it may be an Evening Paper; An Evening-Morning Paper. Ah! We will just roll on with it.

And concluding, Doctor, we are before this becomes another exceedingly long expanse of words that seem to come from the barking mouth of a mad woman — though, of course, my dear, you must know that is the Case!

Ta-Ta Now! — You Remind me of the Babe!

A Piece To Distract You Of What A Massive Waste Of Time This Was — Liar!

Marches Of Gold; Our Publication:

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As ever, Dear Reader.