T P O

T   P   O
The Patient Ox (aka Hénock Gugsa)

G r e e t i n g s !

** TPO **
an irreligious blog
with egalitarian and individualist tendencies!


On the menu ... politics, music, poetry, and other good stuff.
There is humor, but there is blunt seriousness here as well!


Parfois, on parle français ici aussi. Soyez bienvenus!

Intelligent comments are always welcome!

Tuesday, September 27, 2016

Focus! - by Gray Pilgrim



buddies!
*** Focus! ***
b

Gray Pilgrim
==========
The only thing you really need ... 'Focus'.   All else will follow ....
My dear mind, what do you seek
Stay still for a while and look inside
For the peace you seek
Is within your own reach

You feel weighed down by the past
Disappointments, regrets and guilt
Why keep clinging to the unchangeable
Let go of it and feel feather light

Cease the flow of thoughts
Concentrate at a point
Visualize a placid lake
Undisturbed by the flow of time

Focus on this moment
That's all you need to do
Snap back into this very moment
That's all that you need to concentrate upon

We can't go back and change anything
But we make a different future
If only we focus on giving
All that we have got into 'Now'.

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Tornami a vageheggiar - F. Handel / A. Forsythe


George Frideric Handel (1685-1759)
Tornami a vagheggiar
by George F Handel
sung by 
Amanda Forsythe *

* Amanda Forsythe & Apollo's Fire



Sunday, September 18, 2016

A Glut of Cheese - by Tim Torkildson



love of cheese

A Glut of Cheese
by 

Tim Torkildson *
////// ~~~~ //////

In response to the news from the Wall Street Journal: "America has built up a glut of cheese so big that every person in the country would need to eat an extra 3 pounds this year to work it off."

A little limerick ====>

Our nation has got too much cheese.
The Camembert comes to our knees.
I think that we’d better
eat lots more of cheddar —
who cares if we get heart disease?

_____________________________________________

* "Bulletin Board", St. Paul Pioneer Press, 5/18/16 


gut sucker


Saturday, September 10, 2016

Boo-da! - by Hénock Gugsa



The werehyena!
Boo-da ! – the Ethiopian WereHyena !!!
- by Hénock Gugsa -
~~~~~~~ !!!!!!! ~~~~~~~
Yes, Halloween is approaching, and children are trembling with mock fear because all the monsters they know are fake.  And whose fault is that? – Why, the parents' of-course!  They keep telling their kids that frightful dreams are just nightmares – they’re not “real.”  So the children grow up dismissing and disavowing bad things, evil things.

Well, boys and girls, young and old!  Perk your ears and listen well.

In Ethiopia, there is a monster nobody dismisses … and he has been around for eons. Ethiopians don’t disbelieve the unimaginable, the unheard-of, or the truly horror-filled.  You’ve heard of Ethiopia, haven't you? ....  The land of myths and fables.  Aesop (Aethiop) was from there, dontcha know?!

Ethiopia’s traditional lore is rich in both good tales and in horror stories.  In my blog, I have already written about a demon called, Meganya.  He is literally a scary slapper whom nobody should want to encounter.

But today, here, I’m going to give an account of an entity simply known as a “boo-da”.  The name is spelled phonetically, and you should have no problem pronouncing it.

Now, boo-da is not the same as Buddha (the kindly Prince Gautama).  Far from that!  A boo-da is far from compassionate and actually belongs in the realm of evil.  He is not unlike the werewolf (the wolf-man) because they both lead double lives.  But the Ethiopian monster’s alter ego by night is the hyena, not the wolf.  However, unlike the werewolf, a boo-da is not self-conflicted or complicated.  He accepts himself as what he is, and has no qualms or conscience about his deeds. 

As told to me, the story of the boo-da is one that will keep children up all night from fright.  A boo-da is a cursed human who is doomed to live a double life alone as a social pariah.  Except for the three rainy months during a year, a boo-da transforms himself into a fiendish hyena every night during the hours of darkness.  Each night, his legs would shrink to half their length, his arms would elongate, his shoulders get hunched, and he would almost appear to have a hump on his back.  His body is suddenly covered with short mangy brown hair from head to toe.  And fleas appear out of nowhere to attack his lean body.  So he jumps around hooting, wailing, and making shrill, screaming sounds.  Then he furiously kicks and breaks up the ground under him.  He naturally prefers red clayey ground, and of-course there is plenty of that where he lives.  A red dust billows up on his body as he throws himself on the ground and twirls and rolls around killing his enemies, the fleas.  All during the dirt bath, the cacophony of the noises he makes have graduated to hyena squeaks and cackles mixed in with snorts and grunts. 

Eventually, he stops everything he’s doing, gathers himself up by his short hind legs.  He emerges from his abode, and he is very hungry … ravenous, really.  Naturally, he is a dedicated carnivore … but, he is not discriminatory in his diet, he will eat anything when he is hungry-hungry.  Of-course, a boo-da has night vision same as a hyena, and he accurately remembers where the pre-selected prey lives.  Humans are his enemy, but most importantly for him, they are also his meal.

At night, households in the countryside lock their doors, stables are secured with the animals safe inside, and guard dogs are at their posts.  Families hold their dear children tight and near.  Fires are kept going, and dark corners are lit well.  Nothing is left to chance.

Outside, no person travels alone.  Everybody has his spear or his sword by his side!

Day or night, children are normally safe because their parents make them wear tiny leather pouches (talismans) around their necks for protection.  These magical potions are specially prepared by the head shaman in the community, and they are not exactly cheap.  A family with four children may have to give the shaman a cow for four talismans.  The ingredients in the talisman as well as the written words on the little leather pouch render a child invisible to a boo-da.  No wonder villagers always warn:  woe be to the careless child who loses his talisman!

As you may have surmised, a boo-da reverts to his human form during the day.  People who think they have seen him in person usually describe him as shifty-eyed and unsociable.  He always appears to be spying on people and their belongings.  No doubt, people are convinced that he is the one with the evil eye.  That is why they know better than to eat or drink outside in the open and neither would they bathe naked in the river.  If a boo-da happens to be nearby and catches sight of you in a vulnerable state, he will mark you in his memory and you will not be long for this world.  Either the boo-da will get you, or you will suffer and die from a sudden incurable disease.

As has been pointed out earlier, a boo-da is very crafty and stealthy, and no one knows the location of his residence.  His animal instincts, and especially his sense of smell and hearing alert him to humans if they accidentally come anywhere near his abode.  He then quickly relocates to a new place, and his solitary life resumes.  A boo-da can live to a ripe old age.  And when he dies, it will usually be from starvation because he is too weak from old age to go out and hunt humans anymore. 
                 
Terrified, screaming woman
~~~~~~~~~~ Any doubters ? ~~~~~~~~~~

Friday, September 9, 2016

Asking: What is Aleppo? - by Hénock Gugsa


Gary Johnson, Libertarian candidate
 Asking: What is Aleppo? 
 - by Hénock Gugsa -
~~~~~ *** ~~~~~

This minor and misunderstood moment in a candidate's recent interface with the media actually speaks volumes about the mad rush to judgement by the media! What a pack of marauding hyenas they are !!!

I think Mr.Johnson should be given some slack. After-all, he is a libertarian and he doesn't even like foreign entanglements. Why should he be expected to know and differentiate Aleppo from Kirkut?!!

At least three things bother me with the whole flare-up here .... 
1) How many people (including the media) really, actually know or have even heard of Aleppo before?! Even now, many Americans (and especially politicians) don't know Aleppo from, excuse the expression, a hole in the ground.
2) Why should Mr. Johnson be expected to know about Aleppo, and what is wrong with him even admitting his ignorance?  At least, he is not parading around as a know-it-all braggart !!!  Also, Aleppo is not the problem .... The problem is and has always been American ignorance about the world and the resulting, disastrous mule-headed foreign policy.  Everybody knows what the problem is but they are not admitting it.
3) Priorities, priorities !!! Why is the  Syrian city singled out as an American concern when it is being bombed by its own government?  The evil enemy, ISIS, is not even there, and why are we not concerned more about the Russian complicity in the Syrian tragedy, etc.?? .... On another front, world refugee crisis is not entirely from Aleppo or from Syria in general.  There are thousands and thousands of refugees from everywhere else in the world.  


Conclusion ===> So let us talk about Eritrea?  Do Americans know about Eritrea?  Are they going to ask:  What is Eritrea?!

 

Monday, September 5, 2016

Ah, the Past! - by the Doryman



Ah, the Past!
by the Doryman *

 ====== ||| ======

Every blasted time I see a black Lab, I think of Dinah. She was an Iowa farm dog, about my age, way back there in the ’50s. I would see her on occasional Christmas holidays when my parents and I would visit her master, my Aunt June. Dinah could perform two tricks. The commands were: ‘Sittest-the-back-end-down, Dinah’ and ‘lookest-thee-out-the-window, Dinah.’ She was as dependable as the comfort of the living room’s wingback leather chair and the scent of the nearby oil stove.

Every blasted time I smell diesel exhaust, I am reminded of the cozy winter nights of my childhood when I would drift off to the droning voices of loved one’s stories. My memory of those times is like a gallery of Norman Rockwell paintings.

Now there are more and more blasted times. One thought leads to another, and they often end up somewhere in the past. Ah, the past. It’s edging out the future in my mind’s eye as I grow older. I suppose because there is so much more of it.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
* Source: Bulletin Board, St. Paul Pioneer Press, Aug. 31, 2016
Out of the past, the end!
 

Friday, September 2, 2016

Apparitions ~ by William Butler Yeats


W B Yeats (1865-1939)
Apparitions
~William Butler Yeats~
BECAUSE there is safety in derision
I talked about an apparition,
I took no trouble to convince,
Or seem plausible to a man of sense.
Distrustful of thar popular eye
Whether it be bold or sly.
Fifteen apparitions have I seen;
The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger.
 
 I have found nothing half so good
As my long-planned half solitude,
Where I can sit up half the night
With some friend that has the wit
Not to allow his looks to tell
When I am unintelligible.
Fifteen apparitions have I seen;
The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger.
 
When a man grows old his joy
Grows more deep day after day,
His empty heart is full at length,
But he has need of all that strength
Because of the increasing Night
That opens her mystery and fright.
Fifteen apparitions have I seen;
The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger.