Archive for category Books

I’m an Artsy Bookworm, How ’bout You?

That wondrously kind Vanilla has bestowed an Art award upon me.  I am honoured and quite blushed that she’d include me in this award, especially since I’ve been so quiet on the blogosphere lately.  I can only hope that future post will enhance this fête.  It is the little things that people do for one another that gives me hope.  Thank you, Vanilla.

art award

So, here’s the blurb:

Art Prize and Award
"This prize has arisen from the daily visits that I dedicate to many blogs which nourish me and enrich me with creativity. In them I see dedication, creativity, care, comradeship, but mainly, ART, much art. I want to share this prize with all those bloggers that entertain me day to day and to share this prize with those who enrich me every day. Doubtlessly, there are many and it will be hard to pick just a few, the people I will name today deserve this prize, as do the very long serious list of bloggers I also enjoy to read, but I will name the first 10 and will leave the rest of the work to all the bloggers that visit other’s blogs and are nourished by them."

The standard rules apply for this award.  I will pass it on to five of you and expect you to do the same.  If you are not on my list, please do not be insulted.  I might have just forgot ’bout you or somethin’.  Have you ever heard of an absent minded lensman?  Well, that’s me in a nutshell.  :)

Iced Coffee

Gingerpixel

Baino’s Banter

K8 the Gr8

The Inner Minx

 

Here’s a lovely meme for the lot of you.  This one has been around the blogosphere for a while, but it is fun and easy.  This one consist of taking passages out of a book on a certain page.  It is quite hilarious as to what you’ll find.  I may have cheated a wee bit, but it is really close to what it is supposed to be.  :)

The rules are:
1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people.

"She aroused them, and soon the assembly ground and seats were filled with curious men, a throng who peered and saw the master mind of war, Laërtes son.  Athena now poured out her grace upon him, head and shoulders, height and mass – a splendor awesome to the eyes of the Phaiákians; she put him in a fettle to win the day, mastering every trial they set to test him.  When all the crowd sat marshalled, quieted, Alkínoös addressed the full assembly."

Most of you can probably tell from whence this passage came, but I will tell those of you that have never read it.  Shame on you!  :)   Tis "The Odyssey", by Homer and translated by, Robert Fitzgerald.  Whenever I need advice about life, I dig deep into the works of Homer and Sophocles.  We can learn so much from the past.  At times, I think they knew more about the intricacies in life than we do. 

odyssey homer

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A Misty Wilderness

Today, I drove up to Caesar’s Head, Table Rock, and Pretty Place to snap some photos. To my surprise, the sunny weather down in the valleys changed to a thick fog. As I motored up the winding narrow road, the weather would dramatically change from sunny to a mist and back again. When I entered a deep ravine, it actually started raining, but cleared up as soon as I topped the hill. Altitude is an amazing thing, isn’t it.

After driving for about an hour, I reached Caesar’s Head, which is a granite outcropping about 3300 ft. up that resembles…what else…Caesar’s Head. The thick haze cut through my denim shirt, like Pyrite through a miners fingers as he realises its fools gold. Oh, have I ever mentioned that this area is lined in gold, along with Pyrite? Just don’t come running to my streams with your gold pans! :)

I walked down a path or two, snapped a few pictures, and headed down the road a bit to Table Rock, which has two lakes. But, the main attraction to all visitors is the big arse rock that protrudes from the mountainside. The sad thing is that it has been abused by graffiti artist over the last few years. Although, some of the pieces are quite humorous. The fog had lifted a smidgen by the time I approached the edge of the rock to take some photos. The wind had settled as well, but it was still a biting autumn day in South Carolina.

I was running out of time, so I started back to my truck. I hadn’t realised it, but there was a boiled peanuts stand on the side of the road selling boiled and roasted peanuts. I walked up to the chap, asked how much, which he replied to by saying, “If you’ve got to ask, they are too expensive, right?”.

We laughed, I took three bags of boiled peanuts, and just as I was about to leave, he turned and asked, “Have you ever been up to Pretty Place?”.

“No, I’ve always wanted to go, but I’ve never been able to find the darn place”, I answered, whilst laying down the armful of peanuts.

“Well, take Highway 11 here up almost to the North Carolina line, and you’ll see a sign that says “Camp Greenville”, which is where Pretty Place is.”, He retored, with a congenial smile.

“Thank you, sir…I really appreciate the help”, I replied, as I shook his hand and began to walk away.

So, after about a half hour of driving, I pulled into pretty place, and it is a gorgeous little chapel that overlooks the blue ridge mountains. It’s a splendid spot to sit and reflect. Even with the mist rolling in, it was beauteous. Normally, most of the trees would have already transformed and began to shed their brilliantly coloured leaves, but mother winter is taking her sweet time this year.

While sitting on the edge, gazing at the fog tumbling across the bluish-green ridge tops and into the valleys below, I pondered about the people this land used to belong to, and how we’ve ravaged their land and sacred sites.

It’s not that I’m always looking at the bad end of things, it’s just that I have a conscious. You know, I may be of European/Celtic descent, but I am also 1/8 Cherokee, which I’ve discussed before. I mean, you certainly couldn’t tell it, if you ever met me. Yep, being speckled in freckles, strawberry-blond haired, and blue-green eyes doesn’t exactly match the criteria of being Native American. :)

My grandfather, which was half Cherokee and half Irish ,was a lively tall man. Both of his parents died, when he was young, so he had to fend for himself. Because of that, he was physically and emotionally strong, but cuddly at the same time. Anyway, he taught me all about the Cherokee Nation and the Trail of Tears. If this interest you, then “Trail of Tears; The Rise and Fall of the Cherokee Nation” is a must for your collection. It is a fascinating book that will even make a soulless person think twice the next time he or she crosses o’er a bridge named after a Native American Chief or passes through a city named after a Cherokee Chieftain.

After all of that pondering, I came home and plopped on the couch. :)

So, without further ado, here are today’s Phoctober shots. Thanks everyone.

Brumous PathBlue HazeHovering CrossRusty BarnDew Kissed HillsRolling FogWoodlandsReflectionsBoiled Peanuts Stand

Now, go eat some boiled peanuts! :)

Yet another whacky, off the beaten path, post by Jefferson Davis. You can find a multitude of my photos on my flickr page, if the mood suits you. Thanks… :)

10 Comments

Freemasonry: The Legend Proceeds

Hi folks, I’m busy studying for school, reading about Freemason’s, The Knights Templar, and the Illuminati.  History has always fascinated me, in all of its facets.  I’m a lover of all things.  As I’ve stated in the past, it is imperative to know not only one’s ancestral history, but the history of the world, in order to comprehend one’s own destiny.  Anyhow, I’ll be back Thursday evening, with a new poem.  While awaiting the next post, watch this intriguing video about the Illuminati and George Washington.  Thanks!

4 Comments

The Knights Templar and The FreeMasons

Everything_freemasons_bookThe_knights_templar I’ve added two books to my overflowing bookcase, as if I didn’t have enough to read.  I love history, and I’m curious, so The Knights Templar and The FreeMasons have always been intriguing to me.  The history, mystery, and the like, have enthralled me since I was a lad.  According to countless sources, the Freemasons began intertwining symbols of the ancient Knights Templar into their own symbols and beliefs. 

I know a few people that are Freemasons, and I know what degree they are, but they won’t give me much more info than that.  However, I did have one gentleman, which I will not name, tell me that he would not try to exceed beyond the level that he was at, because he had to be initiated into the higher order, which he desperately feared.

Anyhow, I think that researching the past, can only prepare you for the future.  What is life and time, but a big circle!

P.S.:  Just click on the books to be taken to the appropriate place on amazon.  Thanks…

2 Comments

An American Haunting Review

An_american_haunting
I had read several reviews of this book,
but had never read it because of all the conflicting information, surrounding
the “True Story of The Bell Witch”.

A few weeks ago, a friend pressured me into
reading it, because she said it was an amazing book, based on a “true
story”. So, I finally started reading it
about a week ago, and to be honest, it is a strange book, in that, its
style is so contrary to what I normally read. Supposedly, Brent Monahan, which
is a fabulous Mystery and Horror Fiction writer, was introduced to this book.

The Novel, which is supposed to be a
letter, from Richard Powell to his daughter, is a riveting tale about a
poltergeist that haunts the
Bell
family. It is the most bizarre
poltergeist that I have ever run across in my days of reading horror novels and
in real-life (I’ll save that for another day.). I was quite bewildered by the first half of the book, but the pieces
started falling into place, as they always do with a good novel. However, as I’ve already stated, it is a different
read than what most of us are accustom to.

It is more of a journal, recounting
important events that happened during the time that the Bell Witch inhabited
the
Bell household
and should I dare to say, Betsy Bell. The ending was so utterly shocking that I was awestruck.

Now I realise that Mr. Powell was in the
legislature and the
Bell’s lived in Red River, during the early part of the 19th
Century, but it’s too orchestrated to be factual. There are several other books narrating the
Bell Witch, yet I’m still not satisfied. The publication has enticed me to research the Bell Witch and read every
book about it. I love a good mystery.

I will not give away the ending, nor will I
tell you how the demon acted, but I will say that the ending will possibly
sicken you, as it did me. It is better
to read the book and then watch the movie. The book has a marvelous ending, while the movie has an atrocious
ending. Movies never satisfy my
imagination, like a book can.

Since saying that I had never read or come
across a poltergeist, like the Bell Witch, is because I’ve seen things in my
lifetime that most people dare not beseech. If each of us untangle ourselves from the world, we can see things that
we normally wouldn’t. Some people are
blessed with these abilities, while the rest of us are not. There is a lot in the cosmos that scientist
cannot explain.

Have you ever seen an apparition glimpse
out of the corner of your eye, only to spin around endlessly, to find
nothing? Have you ever treaded down a
dark path, hearing susurrations in the lull of nightfall? Have you ever seen ghostly figures in the
dark of night, as you pass from bedroom to kitchen, wondering if you really saw
something? These are the questions that
bother us all deep within our psyche.

P.S.: Kate/Minx, I had full intentions of writing a review for the “Coven of
One
”, but I lent my copy out to a friend. She was supposed to read the first chapter and give it back, but she
likes it so much that she won’t give it back. My aim was to entice her to buy the book. As soon as I get my copy back, I’ll write a
review. I truly loved it, Kate.

 

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