Coincidences

John Fitzgerald Kenney and Abraham Lincoln
Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.
John F Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.
Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected President i
n 1960.
Kennedy and Lincoln contain seven letters.

Both were concerned with civil rights.

Both wives lost a child while living in the White House.

Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head.
Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy.
Kennedy's secretary was named Lincoln.
Both were assassinated by Southerners.
Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson.
Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808.
Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.
John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln, was born in 1839.
Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born in 1939.
John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln, was assassinated before going to trial.
Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was assassinated before going to trial.
Both names are composed of fifteen letters.
Both assassins were known by their three names.
Lincoln was shot at the theater named Ford.
Kennedy was shot in a car called Lincoln.
Booth ran from the theater and were caught in a warehouse.
Oswald ran from a warehouse and was caught in a theater.
Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.
A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe (Maryland).
A week before Kennedy was shot, he was in Monroe (marilyn).

everything is perfectly normal. keep going about your business. bring chocolate.
Coincidences
Here is something that everyone has probably seen before but I refered to it in a journal entry and thought I should include it in here. It is pretty bizarre.

November 2002,

Experiments at MIT

I don't know all the details of the experiments so I will just explain them to the best of my knowledge.
Experiments are being performed by MIT scientists on randomness and chance.
In one of these experiments they have observed that chance increases in favor of the observer when there is an observer.
I believe they used an automated card game that should be completely random. The results changed significantly when there was a person observing it.
Interesting. What is it about observing something that changes the outcome. If you are skeptical, read about the behavior of light sometimes. There are a lot of creepy things that go on in the universe that we don't understand yet.
Second experiment:
This one has been going on for several years around the world. Again, not to sure of the specifics but basically it involves random number generators in different countries.
Scientists have discovered that these machines produce non random numbers for days following an event that affects a large part of the earths population.
When something happens that receives a lot of media attention and a large percentage of the globe think along the same line it affects things in the physical world. Unrelated things.
September 11th and the anniversary a year later are two examples. For a few days following the numbers were not random.
The scientists are speculating that there is such a thing as global consciousness.
Makes you wonder about the New York Lottery winning numbers 911 on the anniversary of 9-11. So many people were thinking about those numbers on the same day. So many people must have chosen those numbers.
It also makes you wonder what other things are affected in the physical world when these things happen. The random number generators are just machines totally unrelated to the events. Just makes you wonder.

The Ingenuity Gap by Thomas Homer Dixon, Sept 12, 2002

This book is a wake up call that I think everyone needs to read. I read a few of Dixon's articles before we got the book which got me hooked. This guy is very intelligent. The book is enlightening, and a bit frightening.
You can check out some articles on his website.

The Colour of Paradise, Sept 11, 2002

Haiku
The following Haiku were written in response to a very dark time in my life. Out of the depths of addiction withdrawal came the yearnings of my soul in this art form. I sent these to the Hershey corporation as a desperate cry for help after they ruthlessly yanked green twizzelators from the shelves of 7-11s everywhere with no warning.
Haiku 1
green Twizzelators
the taste of key lime goodness
gone now, forever
Haiku 2
agonizingly
I await news of key lime
green Twizzelators

Linen
delicate rustle.
warm damp caress of soft linen scent envelopes me.
Never was one to iron sheets.
Until now.
spread out before me, (hills and valleys sprinkled with dove feathers)
cool in the chill air

damp

warmth

fading

She would hang them up to dry. Snapping them out. Crisp * clean in the fresh air.

heavy wet sheets strung out on a tight line.

She loved Joe like that. he adored women. She was strung out on Joe he held her up.

sing to me again

his hand, a drop of water sliding down the curve of her glass spine settled at the small of her back
drew the clothes peg from her mouth, she would sing to him like a bird
Joe's little bird

I hear a blackbird calling me outside (inside?)
like a stranger in some foreign tongue,
so long,
so long,
bird's eye in the branches hide,
black bird's black word's seventh song,

I never knew Joe.
Longed to,
longed to know his love,
dreamt about it.

he died of a strained heart. grey September tears packed in shoe boxes and bottles for my mother's lost father. she watched her mother. sweet littel bird. captured bird song in her breast.
it was never heard again.

HOW TO KILL AN INJURED BIRD
Seal the bird in a small, dark container. Keep container sealed until the oxygen is depleted rendering the bird lifeless.

beating feathers grow silent.

hard
cold iron

I first met my Joe at a wedding. hearts in throats beating wildly.

iron to flesh
flames blade slash
i tried to sing/he couldn't hear me
washed up on his shore he found me and tried to iron out my wrinkles.
he had a strong heart,
iron heart.

My iron glides gracefully across the cold linen sheets.
Smothering scars with it's searing touch.
Fingers red blooms of rust, tears of wear.
Hard creases on a tired brow.
Burning steam pulls them taught.

Erasing everything in it's path.

naked
white
linen

elegant burgany wine stain flowers, spread across the sheets, across the floor. mother sipping wine with elegant hand. eyes closed soft with caterpillar lids. bound by linen sheets.
surround her.
hide her.
till the clock ticks noon.

he lays beside her a cold iron.
bird sings from it's cage.

I spread the cool linen across the bed. Quiet linen scent lingering in thr air. Gentle white shroud settling softly. Cool cover of snow atop a freshly dug grave.

Sweet sleep cover me.

I awoke last night terrified in hot and sweaty tangled sheets. Nightmares of deep, shattering screach of wrenching trees. Shrieking tornado, screaming fiend. Howling banshee, raging forward erasing everything in it's path.
Shattered house, smashed cage.
What would I take from this havoc?

I watch as it retreats. crystal water tower moving in slow motion. growing distant.
fading
still

I hang my sheets now.
I love to stand outside with the cool crisp air whispering through my hair.
I hang them and listen to the wind whip them. clothes peg in mouth. clip to the tight line. full billowing white sails.
seven feathers drift down, offering up open surrender.

she still dreams about Joe. lying between the linen sheets.

sing softly to me again
my little bird