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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 11, 2012 - 10:32pm PT
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Yeah, well I was busy finding something to sh#t on. But I'm happy to see all this fun music!
Andy, you'll be getting a Christmas Card for the 500th post. It's not from the North Pole, though it has something to do with Alaska.--Mr. Mouse Claus
I must say, Andy, that, since I relate to string-pulling in my own special way, I enjoyed the rom musicians to the max. They make those Shaym guys look tame in comparison.
Gypsy, thank you and everybody for the free concert c#m credit/no credit course in international music!
The Free University lives!
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 11, 2012 - 10:57pm PT
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zBrown, in response to the song Positively 4th Street:
Usted dice que esta perdiendo su voz, Amigo. Usted sabe que en realidad no es asi.
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 12, 2012 - 01:15am PT
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Ariel, my son, was walking on our dark mountain road tonight and was apparently hit by a car. I am told he is okay but I am on my way to the hospital to see for myself. I am pretty sure he has a broken leg.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 12, 2012 - 01:48am PT
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God bless you both.
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neebee
Social climber
calif/texas
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Dec 12, 2012 - 04:40am PT
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hey there say, gypsy...
oh my... was going to post a neat little note here, but i will wait now...
may god bless your son through all this awful stuff... :(
and a get well, soon, to him...
sorry to hear this...
prayers and hugs...
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 12, 2012 - 01:53pm PT
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Gypsy
Sorry to hear about Ariel's and your misfortune. Hoping you're right about it not being too serious.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 12, 2012 - 02:50pm PT
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I was going through my dad's "war box" this morning, full of his mementos from flying in Europe. Among the lists of equipment issued, the addresses, the travel ordes, the photos of mussolini and his GF hanging, there is a map of Paris and it is printed on the reverse of part of a German map of the Cap de Trois Fourches in Spanish Morocco. Guess where we're heading?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Music_of_Morocco
Chaabi--
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8zXtDl6lcg
Malhun--
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsIxUbhaCT4
We'll call this Berber--
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gIwNtHd9loY
[This one's for Ron Anderson, in particular.]
Gnawa (more won't hurt at all)--
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEovVlsxI4U
Conceivably, one might travel around the circumference of Africa seeking to record the local music. It must have been done already or I wouln't have thought of it.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 12, 2012 - 03:16pm PT
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I know, man. The nails on the back, yeah.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 12, 2012 - 03:29pm PT
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Royal Blue Alert!This must be in the Mediterranean somewhere, or is it SA? It's not England.
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Marlow
Sport climber
OSLO
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Dec 12, 2012 - 03:41pm PT
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Gypsy
Sorry to hear. Keep us informed.
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 12, 2012 - 05:55pm PT
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say mouse, how much is a bird really worth?
If you say it depends on where it is, then I'll take you at your word.
you can find what you were looking for on the Long Learning thread.
Sorry Leonard, if your're still out there
[Click to View YouTube Video]
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 12, 2012 - 06:33pm PT
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about time for another sentence or two
Some got six month some got one solid
Some got one solid year indeed-e
Some got six month some got one solid year
But me and my buddies all got lifetime here
30 days in the hole
30 days in the hole
30 days in the hole
That's what they give you
30 days in the hole
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Gypsy
Social climber
NC
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Dec 13, 2012 - 08:53am PT
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I was with my son in the hospital all day yesterday. He had surgery on his leg. Now he is in stable condition. I will return this morning. Our biggest problem at this point is no insurance and we are both poorer than poor.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 13, 2012 - 11:06am PT
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Poor.
Roop.
Poro.
Proo.
Orpo.
Opor.
Orop.
Oorp.
Oopr.
Here we have the bottom of the stack, those who haven't any letters even.
And so they just sing.
Angus Mac-ind-oc was the Cupid of the Gaels. He was a harper
of the sweetest music, and was //attended by birds, his own trans-
formed kisses//, which hovered, invisible, over young men and
maidens of Erin, whispering love into their ears.
WHEN we say, "A little bird told me," we are
talking legend and folklore and superstition all
at once. There is an old Basque story of a bird--always a small one in these tales--that tells the truth;
and our Biloxi Indians used to say the same of the
hummingbird. Breton peasants still credit all birds with
the power of using human language on proper occasions,
and traditions in all parts of the world agree that every
bird had this power once on a time if not now. The
fireside-tales of the nomads of Oriental deserts or of
North American plains and forest alike attest faith in
this power; and conversation by and with birds is almost
the main stock of the stories heard on our Southern cot-
ton-plantations. You will perhaps recall the bulbul [Tennyson's The Recollections of]of the Arabian Nights, and, if you please, you may
read in another chapter of the conversational pewit and
hoopoe of Solomonic fame.
Biblical authority exists in the confidence of the
Prophet Elijah that a "bird of the air...shall tell the
matter"; and monkish traditions abound in revelations
whispered in the ear of the faithful by winged mes-
sengers from divine sources, as you may read further
along if you have patience to turn the leaves. The poets
keep alive the pretty fiction; and the rest of us resort
to the phrase with an arch smile whenever we do not care
to quote our authority for repeating some half-secret bit
of gossip. "This magical power of understanding bird-
talk,"..."is regularly the way in which the
seers of myths obtain their information."
Primitive men--and those we style the Ancients were
primitive so far as nature is concerned--regarded birds
as supernaturally wise. This canniness is implied in
many of the narratives and incidents set down in the
succeeding pages; and in view of it birds came to be
regarded by early man with great respect, yet also with
apprehension, for they might utilize their knowledge to
his harm. For example: The Canada jay is believed
by the Indians along the northern shore of Hudson Bay
to give warning whenever they approach an Eskimo camp--usually, of course, with hostile intent; and naturally those Indians kill that kind of jay whenever they can.
....
Now the idea underlying all this faith in the super-
natural wisdom and prophetic gift in birds is the general
supposition that they are spirits, or, at any rate, possessed
by spirits, a doctrine that appears in various guises but is
universal in the world of primitive culture — a world
nearer to us sophisticated readers than perhaps we
realize: but a good many little children inhabit it, even
within our doors.
"The primitive mind, Dr. Brinton asserts, "did not
recognize any deep distinction between the lower animals
and man"; and continues:
The savage knew that the beast was his superior in many
points, in craft and in strength, in fleetness and intuition, and he
regarded it with respect. To him the brute had a soul not in-
ferior to his own, and a language which the wise among men
might on occasion learn....Therefore with wide unanimity
he placed certain species of animals nearer to God than is man
himself, or even identified them with the manifestations of the
Highest.
None was in this respect a greater favorite than the bird.
Its soaring flight, its strange or sweet notes, the marked hues
of its plumage, combined to render it a fit emblem of power
and beauty. The Dyaks of Borneo trace their descent to
Singalang Burong, the god of birds; and birds as the ancestors
of the totemic family are extremely common among the
American Indians. The Eskimos say that they have the faculty
of soul or life beyond all other creatures, and in most primitive
tribes they have been regarded as the messengers of the divine,
and the special purveyors of the vital principles....and every-
where to be able to understand the language of birds was
equivalent to being able to converse with the gods.
If this is true it is not surprising that savages in various
parts of the world trace their tribal origin to a super-
natural bird of the same form and name as some familiar
local species, which was inhabited by the soul of their
heroic "first man." The Osage Indians of Kansas, for
example, say that as far back as they can conceive of
time their ancestors were alive, but had neither bodies
nor souls. They existed beneath the lowest of the four
"upper worlds' and at last migrated to the highest, where
they obtained souls. Then followed travels in which they
searched for some source whence they might get human
bodies, and at last asked the question of a redbird sitting
on her nest. She replied: "I can cause your children to
have human bodies from my own." She explained that
her wings would be their arms, her head their head, and
so on through a long list of parts, external and internal,
showing herself a good comparative anatomist. Finally
she declared: "The speech (or breath) of children will
I bestow on your children."
Such is the story of how humanity reached the earth,
according to one branch of the Osages : other gentes
also believe themselves descended from birds that came
down from an upper world. Dozens of similar cases
might be quoted, of which I will select one because of its
curious features. The Seri, an exclusive and backward
tribe inhabiting the desert-like island Tiburon, in the Gulf
of California, ascribe the creation of the world, and of
themselves in particular, to the Ancient of Pelicans, a
mythical fowl of supernal wisdom and melodious song--an unexpected poetic touch!--who first raised the earth
above the primeval waters. This last point is in con-
formity with the general belief that a waste of waters
preceded the appearance, by one or another miraculous
means well within the redman's range of experience, of
a bit of land; and it is to be observed that this original
patch of earth, whether fixed or floating, was enlarged
to habitable dimensions not by further miracles, nor by
natural accretion, but, as a rule, by the labor and in-
genuity of the "first men" themselves, usually aided by
favorite animals. Thus the Seri Indians naturally held
the pelican in especial regard, but that did not prevent
their utilizing it to the utmost. Dr. W J McGee found
that one of their customs was to tie a broken-winged, liv-
ing pelican to a stake near the seashore, and then appro-
priate the fishes brought to the captive by its free
relatives.
I'll be sending some regurgitated fish soon, Ariel. The cormorants tell me they hope that your leg mends quickly and you like the fish.
If you wish to read the rest of the article, here's where to do so: http://www.archive.org/stream/birdsinlegendfab00inge/birdsinlegendfab00inge_djvu.txt
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zBrown
Ice climber
chingadero de chula vista
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Dec 13, 2012 - 12:58pm PT
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I was with my son in the hospital all day yesterday. He had surgery on his leg. Now he is in stable condition. I will return this morning. Our biggest problem at this point is no insurance and we are both poorer than poor.
Does the driver of the car have insurance? If he/she does, then it shold cover his Ariel's medical expenses.
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mouse from merced
Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
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Dec 13, 2012 - 02:39pm PT
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http://www.flickr.com/people/gypsyflores/
You can offer some photos for sale.
Why are we telling a Gypsy how to get along, they're so self-reliant it's a cliche.
It's because we care. America's not just a business. We exist in our little community, we don't need to worry so much about the rest o' the world, only to appreciate they're there and have neat music and birds and rocks to scale. Mtns. to climb, autobahns to race 'round, minerals to steal.
If we can just get by through December.--Merle
What about my BB-gun, ma? How'm I gonna shoot me some birds?
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