Just as Titanic ruined the movies for me, the Dream Team and all of its implications ruined the Olympics. It has become a corporate parody of itself. The American coverage is beyond bad; ruinous might be a better word.
The repetition, the relentless promotion, the screaming and the jingoism, sets the standard for what America has become.
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DeAndre McCollough died recently. I got to know him from the book, “The Corner” by David Simon and Ed Burns. They spent a year in a small neighborhood in Baltimore, getting to know its denizens. In the course of their reporting, they made friends. My particular favorite was Miss Ella, the woman who ran a rec center amidst the chaos of the streets. DeAndre was one of the kids who hung out there, the son of two addicts. Gary McCollough, D’s dad, died there. His mother, Fran Boyd, got clean. DeAndre started working for the drug industry (the only one hiring) and found addiction as well.
When I heard of Miss Ella’s untimely death (heart attack, if memory serves), I was shocked and saddened. DeAndre’s, at 35, is appalling.
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Firmly entrenched middle brows (like me) probably have struggled (like me) with quantum mechanics. We watched a documentary recently, called I Am. Written and directed by Tom Shadyac (of Ace Ventura fame) after a serious accident, he has finally explained Entanglement theory is such a way that I may actually have glimmerings of understanding.
Entanglement theory notices that particles of energy or matter will interact regardless of how far apart they are.
Einstein called it “spooky action at a distance”, a phrase I’ve fallen in love with, because it is so descriptive. Isn’t this another way of looking at something we used to call synchronicity? Definition of that term: an apparently meaningful coincidence in time of two or more similar or identical events that are causally unrelated.
One explanation of spooky action at a distance is that all particles on earth were once compacted tightly together and, as a consequence, maintain connectedness.
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Savoring a “normal” summer day of 80 degree temperatures instead of the beastly hot days the whole nation has been suffering with. For some reason, menopause and hot weather do not go well together.
We had a little rain from the front bringing us our cooler weather. I heard an unusual sound in the evening and low and behold! – the elusive Kermit – out from his pond in the birdroom. Just as I was beginning to worry. I noticed recently that the water level in the pond was lower than usual – a couple of inches – and wondered if that made it harder for the frogs to get out. Since we are all connected by spooky action at a distance, Kermit heard that unvoiced worry and decided to let me know he was okay. He even posed for a photograph. I thanked him effusively. It was getting dark, so the flash was on. Kermit is much much more beautiful in the sunlight.