Sunday, 31 August, 2014 – CBC News Headlines –

{ Copied & Pasted from “Radio Free Earth News” —Jim W— }

==============

Sunday, 31 August, 2014  -( 76˚F / 24˚C & Mostly Cloudy over Ithaca @ 5:30 pm ET )-

{ & again, these are not links. If you want to read these stories, listen to sound clips, or see any video -if there is any video- go to CBC dot CA/news. —Thanks. ———djo——— }

==============

{ I’ve been doing this because I believe  that the CBC may be more honest and more respectable than Media here in the U.S.A., AND not a lot of people in the U.S. may know that or have access to anyone who might point them toward the CBC & their web site. }

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Teachers with picket signs

Teachers In British Columbia on the picket lines with signs that highlight their issues.

==============

Lead Articles

Strike by teachers to keep B.C. schools closed on Tuesday   {  }

Putin calls for talks on ‘statehood’ in southeast Ukraine   {  }

WHO says equipment needed to contain Ebola in Senegal   {  }

Germany to send Iraqi Kurds  weapons for 4,000 fighters   {  }

 

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“Offbeat”

Greedy thief caught by waiting police in Happy Valley-Goose Bay   { Goose Bay is in Labrador. A ’19-year-old thief’ returned to a house he had allegedly broken into to get stuff he had allegedly left behind and the RCMP grabbed him. }

An enormous enchilada   { An enchilada more than 84 meters long and weighing one ton did not break the world’s record. 84 meters = 275 feet +7 &3/32nds inches. }

 

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“Most Viewed”

Health Canada pulling last of citronella-based bug sprays   { * Health Canada says there is an absence of adequate safety data. People who know there are issues with DEET based insect repellent and scientists who had tested citronella and found it ‘basically safe’ are ‘confused’ by Health Canada’s decision. There is a video “How to make a non-DEET bug spray with essential oils” with the article at >>—-> Link to Health Canada Article Page  —djo— }

B.C. teachers strike:$40-a-day parent pay registration opens    {*  The premier of B.C. says he will not interfere with the strike by legislating back-to-work orders. The Mediator who volunteered to help gave up and walked away. There were signs that teachers were carrying that called this a ‘lock out’. I don’t know any more than that.  —djo— }

Girl, 7, dies after falling off farming tractor in Tweed, Ontario   {  🙁 }

Shania Twain on P.E.I. concert: ‘I just feel at home here’   {  }

British boy with tumor found in Spain getting treatment   {  }

D.A.D.’s Bagels owner Kashmir Randhawa heartbroken over closure   { * The bagel shop was credited with reviving a neighborhood that most people had given up on. After 20 years of being there and attracting the kinds of residents who cleaned up the neighborhood and brought up property values- the shop’s landlord evicted them in favor of getting some higher rent tenants. —djo—  }

Bardarbunga volcano: Iceland lowers aviation warning after no ash detected   { * This almost sounds like a stupid  plot from a “B” movie about  black ops idiots trying to use a volcanic eruption to cover their shenanigans and the volcano refused to co-operate. —djo— }

 

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Other

China rejects open nominations for Hong Kong leadership   {  }

4 killed in likely gas leak explosion in Paris suburb   {  }

Israel calls on region to rebuild, disarm Gaza   {  }

Bolivian bus crash kills 10, injures 1 Canadian   {  }

NATO pushes for bigger crisis response brigade as Canada mulls opportunity   {  }

Iraqi and militia forces break 6-week siege of Shia town   {  }

While ISIS destroys, University of Toronto team battles to preserves historic texts   { Sounds suspiciously like a headline written by a propaganda agency- but maybe there’s a University professor or two who deserve a pat on the back. —djo— }

Texas abortion rules unconstitutional, judge rules   { * “Tough new Texas abortion restrictions are on hold after a federal judge found Republican-led efforts to hold abortion clinics to hospital-level operating standards unconstitutional in a ruling that spares more than a dozen clinics from imminent closure.”   —djo— }

-Must Watch- Sand-Diego’s amazing sculptures   {  }

CN train cars derail near Edmonton   {  }

Drones and dinosaurs   { Scientists are using drones to map ‘one of the world’s most important fossil sites’  —djo— }

Conservative fund raising runs into roadblock in Quebec   { 30 out of 75 ‘Conservative riding associations’ reported no donations at all to the Conservative party in 2013. – ‘Riding’ = voting district – Prime Minister of Canada, Stephen Harper, has sent his ‘Quebec lieutenant’, Denis Lebel, around the province on a whirlwind end of summer tour to generate interest and dollars. —djo—  }

EPA says smog rules should be up to 20% stronger   { * This is the U.S. EPA that’s being reported on here. —djo— }

 

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“Local / “New Brunswick”

Trinity Western approval causes N.B. lawyers to speak out   { Trinity Western University is a ‘faith-based university’. The Law Society of New Brunswick voted in June to accredit the law program of that school while other Provinces in Canada do not accept lawyers into their bar associations if they graduated from that school’s program. Some lawyers are worried that law school graduates from that university might have a very slanted view of human rights that might be “Un-Canadian”.  —djo—  }

Moncton RCMP fund gets boost from Confederation Bridge fundraiser   { }

Drone captures bird’s-eye-view of Bathurst   { * Drones video-capturing images of people in their own homes and interfering with commercial airlines’ flights have been controversial lately. —djo— }

Halibut-tracking test hopes to prove quota increase needed   {  }

NDP’s Dominic Cardy proposes local government overhaul   {  }

Brian Gallant struggles to articulate campaign message   { * Now this sounds extraordinarily slanted to me- —djo— }

Arts funding needed despite financial crisis, ex-Lt-Gov. says  { A couple days ago the ex-Lieutenant Governor of New Brunswick was quoted as saying that Artists fuel innovation —djo— }

 

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{ 7:47 pm -after dealing with one barking dog, ready to check for typos and colorize this thing.      ———djo——— }

Yesterday? Today? or Tomorrow?

Cat with a 'lion cut'

Moe after his visit to the hairdresser’s 😉

Cave and other stand alone stones

The other side of the below cave- with human silhouettes for scale

A cave that had been eroded into the base of a now standalone stone at 'flowerpot rocks'

Hopewell Rocks from well below the high tide line.

Saturday, 30 August, 2014 -( 15˚C / 59˚F @ 11:11 pm )-

It’s been a busy week- Cathi had the week off. Neither one of us was feeling all that good all week. We took Moe to the vet’s to get his matts trimmed away and he was pretty darned good about it until the groomer got the ‘buzzy’ too close to spots where cats want no one to go with a hair trimmer- So- nobody got slashed or shredded and he only refused to talk to us for a couple hours and now he looks like a lion, and he can strut around showing off- Cathi said he was much better in the temperament department after he realized he could lick his fur without anything pulling.

On Friday we drove to the Bay of Fundy. The map we got with a visitor’s guide stunk. The GPS wanted to send us straight east to Moncton and then down. Friends, and daughters, had told us to take the seaside route, down to Sait John and turn left. We got going a little bit late. The map looked like we were about to make a wrong turn and I told Cathi we needed an exit that the map looked like we needed to take. So we only got a little bit lost, and the most direct route to ‘Hopewell Rocks’ had a few too many construction sites along the way, but we did stop for some home-made ice cream and made a friend, I think- Nice guy who uses all natural ingredients, he’s 73 years old and looks younger, and he thought I looked younger than I told him I am. I left him a link to a web site and an email address and never thought to ask his name. He lives on the west side of highway 114 a bit north west of Alma.

We got to the rocks at twenty minutes to closing and the light was not so good when we got there. But I think I got one decent photo to replace another photo at the top of one of my blogs and that worked out okay, I think.

Today I felt lousy and had strange fever dreams, one of Tony Soprano’s enforcers came around to axe me what was the hold up with getting my mother out of the house she had sold to a nice little old Italian lady who had bad friends and no patience. And a melancholy girl who had been kicked out of her home by her mother, supported by her grandmother for a couple years and then told not to come home without a job or money for rent and grandma and aunty didn’t care what she had to do to get it, wanted to know if she could make a lot of money posing nude for a photographer and I guess I looked like a photographer and I felt awful for her and gave her the keys to my travel trailer (In the dream I had a small travel trailer- not the tiny- made in Canada ones, but small and when I got her there she was afraid to stay in it alone, so I slept at the kitchen table while she slept in the bed and I don’t know how that turned out because I woke up.

The photos did not load where they should have- and when I tried to click on one to try to see if I could move it down and write above it- everything else on this page disappeared.

But I got it back, I can live with this- so I guess I can’t complain too loudly-

(—AAAaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggh!)

~~~~~Jim

Time Dancer

 
 it feels like a dance
Doesn’t it?
                   feel-
                           like a dance?
 
 
There we were-all of us
sitting around the fire,
talking, laughing, drinking wine,
smoking, thinking about life-
each of us- a Universe of our own
all of our worlds suspended
for a while
while we lived in a moment
too fragile to touch
too real to question
you got up- and
Turned-
to the West
 
                                 I rose and
turned
to the East
 
                  Everyone stood and
turned from our
circle
 
We stepped into shadows
to find the worlds
                               we thought
                               we wanted
 
we danced
through darkness
                      and moonlight
 
                                                                     through deserts
                                                                            and sunlight
 
through cities
              and lamplight
 
                                                                  through mountains
                                                                             and starlight
 
across oceans
and fire light
 
                                                                          through garbage
                                                                            and candle light
 
But-
every once in a while
                           one or more of us
                  lost interest
                                       in the dance
 
                                                                                No,
                                                                                this game
                                                                                wasn’t enough
 
too many dreams
had died
 
we stumbled
back to our circle,
fanned the embers
relit the fires
 
we met in twos and threes
and almost remembered
who we’d been and
where we’d started-
 
we talked and dreamed and
caught a new idea, a vision-
 
                                   Then, with our
                                   New Vision, unspoken
                                   we found new strength
 
                                                                               and fed each other
                                                                               on our bright new
                                                                               enthusiasm
                                                                               as we cried each other’s tears
                                                              over what we’d lost
 
                                    and we usually agreed
                                    there wasn’t enough – out there
                                    to hold our attention
                                    for long
                                    but then again
                                    we kept on
                                    getting back up on our feet
 
and danced back
                         into the shadows
 
perhaps I
stayed away the longest
perhaps
I danced the farthest
from that light
that always
called us back
together
 
                                                                  perhaps I
                                                                  watched my dreams
                                                                  too often
                                                                  go up in smoke
                                                                  too soon-
                                                                  – I
 
learned to hold on
-maybe much too tight- ly
to each second I
spent
in your company-
-with any one of us
I’d accidentally
learned to recognize-
-in chance meetings
in the strangest places
 
where and when our
dancing
brought us
face to face
with anyone
we thought we
-knew from somewhere-
 
like the free and easy
celebration of spring
where somebody who knew somebody
let a friend tag along
and I’d barely seen her
when my heart wanted to soar
to leap with joy at the idea
that she was actually
in the same world with me-
but then, some guy I
probably would have liked
came back from somewhere, and
put his arm around her shoulder
and grinned at me as if to say
-look all you want
-she’s mine tonight
and I wondered why I
wanted to
tear his heart out
on the spot
 
and me, I-
tripped over something
in the dark
 
and rolled to my knees
in some
strangely lighted fog
 
I stumbled and called
and whimpered
and screamed
 
I stood up
and listened
 
and walked
against the wind
 
and maybe blinked
once or twice
 
and found myself
back here
where we
started
 
I looked around,
                     there was no one
here-
                I struck a match and
lit a lantern
 
and sat down and
waited
 
-You’re the one -I
came closest to-
          -most often
 
stumbling back home,
in your own trajectory
– you looked a bit like
maybe you
were almost ready
                to join me
 
and I thought about us all
I remembered every shadow
every light,
every flicker of joy-
every mountain
                            every pit
 
every dancer
             every sanctuary
                              and I felt
                                            every dancer
                                                       dancing through me
 
turning and leaping
                                                        stepping and falling
phantoms in a shadow land
                                                       everyone a little sick
of spiraling so far out
 
Everyone a little closer to knowing
what we’d gone off to learn
                          -That everything we really wanted
                       we’d all had to begin with
              so long ago
with each other
 
I closed my eyes
and felt a restless tide
swelling through our
empty spaces
 
washing all the lands
we’d ever visited
 
I saw the restless thoughts
of every dreaming phantom
falling lifeless as the core
of our existence
refined the hunger
we’d been feeling
 
I reached for the light-
 
I felt you- all of you-
all of us dancing
all of us turning
and missing the beat
 
dropping our hands, disgusted
 
one by one returning
 
to the center of our circle
 
where I guess I’m
 
the first one back
 
sitting here with a silly grin
 
waiting to greet you
 
with this universe’s greatest laughter
 
crying,
             Welcome Home!
 
-Where in hell have you been this time?
 
——— Jim Wellington

“Amtrack”

7-9-87 (July 9, 1987)

 

“AmTrak”

Trees and towns
factories
single cabins
whole developments
new communities
a trailer park
a factory
a river
sudden tunnel
high bank
a burnt out bus on its side
stagnant pond
swimming beach
golf course
forest
and through the trees
traces of glimpses
of lives
little triumphs
wasted ages
death and pain
birth and hope
schemes and dreams
honest toil and con
games.

Time out
to visit the
café car

there are a bunch of
French Canadians on this train
(Uruguay?)
I mistook an Uruguayan
for one of them
she’s a writer
I flirted shamelessly
-gave her my name &
address, she said,
I was interesting
maybe she’ll write.

darkness descends
on a world in
two dimensional
motion

the patterns of the
leaves of trees
crawl like snakeskin

dirty towns
dirty factories
come and go

the world has been
painted
on several
opague screens
backlit as we
rush past
to the
rock and roll rhythm
that never quite completely
hypnotizes
us

now the painted
scenery
moves
at varying speeds
past the train
while high tech
attendants
push buttons
to swing and sway
and rock and
hesitate
then roll and
accelerate
to make us believe
in the illusion
that we
are actually
moving.

I could fall
in love a dozen times
an hour
on this train
maybe more if I
write less
and watch the passengers
more
There must be five
young women
on this train, in this car?
I’ve decided
I could love forever
a couple of them
no doubt would be married
there’s one-
3 seats in front of me
facing me-
glancing my way
and smiling when she
catches me
glancing back
Absolutely too cute
button nose
two pony tails
totally baffled
by obstacles like
door release buttons
and luggage racks
fixing her hair by her refelction
in the window
totally ignored by the
guy she’s sitting with.
-must be her brother

-an hour later?

I just saw the
Uruguayan?
again
she’s writing away in her notebook
almost as frantic as I am
while the other woman
I fell in love with since, maybe
Baltimore?
got up and looked around
stepped over her
sleeping brother
and
walking this way
almost fell in my lap.
“I forgot-” she said,
“Which way to the lunch car?”

I couldn’t pass this one up
“I’ll show you- I’m hungry too”
She smiles then seems impressed
when I stand up
“You’re tall-”

Her name was Hillary
from Philadelphia
the guy ignoring her
is her cousin
She found it fascinating
that I was a writer
and wanted to know
if she would end up
in anything I ever wrote.

She wrote down her name
and address and
phone number
and then looked sad
and told me
she was supposed to
meet the man
almost twice her age
her family had promised her to
so the mob
wouldn’t kill her mother and her brothers,
and maybe finally,
her broken father.

I blurted out
“Is there anything I can do?”
She looked desperate, then defeated
shook her head, “No- that would
get my family
butchered or worse.”

I paid for her food
on the way back
to our car
she pushed me into a men’s room,
kissed me desperately,
moved my hands to grope her-
then pushed me away,
straightened her
clothing and made me
check to see
that there was nobody
in the corridor
and I walked her
back to our car-
she gestured that
I should stay in my own seat
walked back to her
cousin
sat down and hid behind
a “Bride” magazine.

I fell asleep
woke up a couple
hours later
saw her as she
was still hiding behind
that magazine
and hoped I dreamed
the whole trip
to the dining car.

Train rides
will never
be the same.

Jim

Jim

Earwigs – (shudder)

Saturday, August 9, 2014.

While flattening out once-crumpled packing paper in the basement, to empty and flatten boxes and make room to move stuff around down there- I moved a pile of clean kitchen towels and discovered two earwigs hiding beneath them. (‘creepy’)

So then I wondered what earwigs eat.

And then tonight, I looked it up on wikipedia and this is what I found there:

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Earwig

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
For other uses, see Earwig (disambiguation).
Earwigs
Temporal range: 208–0Ma

Late Triassic to Recent

Earwig on white background.jpg
Female common earwig, Forficula auricularia
Scientific classification
Kingdom: Animalia
Phylum: Arthropoda
Subphylum: Hexapoda
Class: Insecta
Order: Dermaptera
De Geer, 1773
Suborders
Synonyms
  • Euplecoptera
  • Euplexoptera
  • Forficulida

Earwigs make up the insect order Dermaptera and are found throughout the Americas, Africa, Eurasia, Australia and New Zealand. With about 2,000 species[1] in 12 families, they are one of the smaller insect orders. Earwigs have characteristic cerci, a pair of forceps pincers on their abdomen, and membranous wings folded underneath short forewings, hence the scientific order name, “skin wings.” Some groups are tiny parasites on mammals and lack the typical pincers. Earwigs rarely use their flying ability.

Earwigs are mostly nocturnal and often hide in small, moist crevices during the day, and are active at night, feeding on a wide variety of insects and plants. Damage to foliage, flowers, and various crops is commonly blamed on earwigs, especially the common earwig Forficula auricularia.

Earwigs have five molts in the year before they become adults. Many earwig species display maternal care, which is uncommon among insects. Female earwigs may care for their eggs, and even after they have hatched as nymphs will continue to watch over offspring until their second molt. As the nymphs molt, sexual dimorphism such as differences in pincer shapes begins to show.

Some earwig specimen fossils are in the extinct suborders Archidermaptera or Eodermaptera, the former dating to the Late Triassic and the latter to the Middle Jurassic. Many orders of insect have been theorized to be closely related to earwigs, though the icebugs of Grylloblattaria are most likely.

Alert?

Friday, August 8, 2014.

Somebody whose ‘psychic impressions’ / ‘messages’ I can’t dismiss
has received a much stronger than usual impression that ‘something major’
is about to transpire on August 23rd.
Something similar to 9-11-2001, but on a much larger scale.
She saw herself sitting on our sofa, crying her eyes out in compete shock and horror – watching or listening to news reports

London, England – New York City – Ottawa, Canada – & possibly other major western cities had all been ‘hit’ by something, she couldn’t tell whether it was a ‘Natural’ or ‘man-made’ disaster, but no communication at all could come out of these cities.

She said we were okay where we are, but lots of our relatives were in the danger zones and we had no idea whether they were alive or dead.

She said, in her scrambled state, all she could do was hug our dog and wonder whether we should try to go get take out Chinese or Chicken in a bucket.

I didn’t have time to ask her whether part of the problem was that we had lost power and services (electricity? internet? telephone?) or not.

Um, she could be off by a year or more. this could be happening in a parallel dimension- there could be absolutely nothing we can do to avoid this-

Or we can ‘Pray our bums off’ for Angelic / Spiritual Help to avoid this. & Prayers won’t hurt any-

—eek—

—————Jim

December 25, 1978

My sister’s friend gave me a book full of blank paper for Christmas 1978
    There’s a green tree frog with suction cup fingers
    hanging on to a vertical stick on the cover
    Under the small letters “Write Your Own Book”
    is the title
    “Coping” in large yellow letters
    beneath that in a non serif font, white letters, no caps
    “notes to help me hang in there”
    My sister’s friend said she couldn’t resist.

And for my first entry: I put down the sf/fantasy book I was reading and wrote:

Beryl Beaver set a wolf on fire
    < Dragon Winter >
    Burgundy is a wine too bitter
    for anyone here this afternoon
    And Glenn backed into my truck
    yesterday-

My father walked all the way into the kitchen
    to tell my mother that if
    somebody didn’t take that record < Stephen Stills >
    off the turntable he would smash it.
    < I think the threatened smashing     would involve the turn table >
    Um- I immediately visualized my hand
    smashing very hard (as in Karate)
    into his adams apple

He knew the record was mine
    a Christmas present from my sister

Would he cower or roar
    if he understood what sort of effect
    his infantile behaviour
    generally has
    on me? Instant rage?
    -sigh- That’s not a very nice
    Christmas message
    is it?

“Our good luck might be the next animal’s downfall-” Granny Badger

=====

December 26, 1978

in all caps:

All things are new
    there is no past hostility
    strong enough to own me
    You are forgiven
    who(m?)ever you are.

now put my book down
    before I forget this
    epiphany
    and break your nosy neck.

=====

Next Page

12-26-78

Kathy K (a childhood friend)
    invaded my dreams last night
    we talked, I
    don’t remember what we said
    I think I
    wanted to hug her
    I remember
    turning around with that
    in mind
    turning around near the edge
    of a stage
    music, not heard?-
    inferred-
    But Kathy, I-

remember her as an awkward thirteen year old
    turning around, barefoot in the sand near the river
    walking away from some idiot’s dirty joke, looking
    like she thought there was something wrong with her
    if she couldn’t take it-

in the moment, remembering, I realized
    “there’s a little bit of you
    in every woman I ever
    wanted to hold-
    and shelter from
    the dirty jokes
    that no one wants to laugh at.”

(Jim Wellington)

Very Old Stuff (pre-digital)

August 4, 2014 -(18˚C / 64˚F @ 10:07 & raining here.)

=====

   Never know where to begin-

I thought I’d try to tidy up a bit
    -for the exterminator?-
    as we’re moving me
    into this apartment

We never seem to get Anything done
    when we’re together-

came across an
    unfamiliar box
    contents in a jumble
    -all the time you’ve known me
    there’s been some kind of crisis
    looming very near
    very dark
    maybe it is the time of Man
    maybe it is a season
    for me to dance carefully
    between disasters
    and try
    -not to get crushed

Maybe our lives are
    portable messes
    that we can sort through
    or store as-is
    and maybe
    neatness doesn’t count at all
    it’s how you live
    and what you give
    to each other
    and the world
    around you-

((( Feels like circa 1991 ? )))

((( I don’t know if this is one of the things Jim Wrote and typed and left with me or is it something I sat down and wrote after one of our first attempts at a writers’ workshop? )))
———djo———

=====