to post something so that I can know you are on board. pl
Colonel, I’ve arrived.
Anyone know how to log in without creating a website?
I think you mean a post rather than a website. To go to the public part of the blog you go to turcopolier.com
I haven’t found a way to log in as an author.
There should have been a video link in the msg I sent you. It will tell you how.
Thanks, all OK now.
I repost my comment left at the old blog, in case it got lost….
I loved the front page, Pat, with such brilliant and beautiful colors, very Bizantine, but also quite intriguing… as it seems a bit cryptic…a middle way between the always enygmatic front pages by The Economist ( although these quite uglier..by far…) and the so commented past day alleged message sent from Italy by placing a tapestry representing a chapter of El Quijote ( concretely La Cabeza Encantada, which takes place in Barcelona…) behind the fresh sworn in new Italian technocratic government leaded by Mario Dragui…
These cryptic things seem to me typical of masons, aren´t they?
Qué opinas, Pat, and pilgrims?
I am not a mason, far from it. The painting was done in 1978 by an old friend who learned to paint after he retired from the US Army. It was an exercise for him on the subject of my life up to that point. He also learned to play the cello and acquired a Ph.D in English starting from the level of a high school graduate. He had been an enlisted National Guard soldier in WW2 (26th “Yankee” Division) and was given a field commission in Normandy and also command of the infantry company in which he had been 1st Sergeant, a rare thing.
Then, congratulaate him, it is very beautiful…
I would not mind having it decorating a wall at my bedroom..so as to go to bed dreaming of interesting adventures…
Repost the tapestry behind Dragui government for you all to see…and think of possible significance…Intriguing…
He is long dead and buried beside his wonderful wife, Eleanor (Ellie)
Oh, sorry to hear, such creative and hard working person…
Now I think, I should be considering also taking a Ph.D in English…I like International Relations, but I fear arriving way too late to avoid war…The European varied puppetery in charge at all levels is spoiling it all…all the effort of so many millions of people who lost their lives in the past great war…A shame…
There is nothing more laughable than a kid who thinks he/she will “make a difference.”
thanks for explaining this.. i was wondering about the story behind it…. congrats on your new website!
Thank you for sharing your wisdom and moving it, and the site’s history, to a new home.
Its difficult to find oases of wisdom in the modern desert. And may well be harder soon.
Pat, your new site is not compatible with http://www.feedly.com, so I’m not going to get notifications from feedly whenever you post something.
Lo siento mucho.
Got it. Nice looking site.
I am here. Thank you for your previous invite to post. Wish I had more time to write.
I want to make it clear that I love Big Brother more than all of you put together and that four legs are good but two legs are better.
Four legs huh? LOL.
Pat, how much snow have you accumulated in your neck of the woods? This weather reminds me of when I was stationed next to Canada, and playing in the forests of Europe. It was always good coming back to garrison and having a triple shot of bourbon in my coffee.
Not a huge amount until a couple of days ago when we got about half a metre. Some more this weekend but the prognosis is that, over all, a normal amount for teh winter.
Ok, I’ll bite. I like the writing I see hereabout.
Wally was sippin’ a brew down at the Dewdrop Inn and watchin’ his pals Dirty John , Wrongway, and Half-Sack hustle a stranger at Poker… Sally the doe-eyed blond bar-girl slipped into the back, “probably to snort a line of crank”, Wally thought.
The game went on and things got tense. The Stranger was winning, a lot. Wally spied that the back door was unobstructed…and thought “good, now let’s see the game”.
There musta been a thousand bucks on the table when the Stranger called with a winning hand.
Wrongway pulled his .38 – “let’s see those cards of yours, friend”.
Stranger kicked over the table and dove out the open front doors, money and cards went everywhere, Wrongway’s cannon went off and blew a hole in the mirror by the stuffed two-headed horse. Everybody’s ears wuz ringing and the place wus filled with gun-smoke.
Unfortunately for the Stranger, Deputy Curtis Hicks was right outside and collared the Stranger…who had practically tackled him.
“Is y’all finished shootin’?,” Deputy Curtis shouted into the smoky Dewdrop, as he snapped the cuffs on the Stranger. (Curtis usually comes by to collect contributions on Thursdays, and it was Thursday)
“Yeah – is that you Curtis?” (Wrongway passed his gun to Wally, who slipped it into the opaque and filthy dishwater filling the sink behind the bar).
Curtis came in, shoving the cuffed Stranger before him, sat him down, and the Stranger began to whine about the cash. Curtis shut his mouth for him with a tap, and the Stranger spit out a bloody tooth through a fat lip. The fellas picked up the money and the cards and set up the furniture, Sally came back and slipped behind the bar, ignoring us, sniffing now and then with her doe-eyes bigger, wider, than before.
At length everybody figured it out. Seems the Stranger’s cards were marked. He knew it.
Talkin’ funny with a little bit of blood drippin’ the Stranger told us why he kicked over the table – “I wus in a zuswang” he said.
“What’s that?” asked Wrongway.
“You don’t play chess, Ah reckon”, replied Stranger. “It’s when you can’t go back and you can’t go forward – yer screwed either way”.
“Whadda ya do then?” Curtis wanted to know, tapping the guy with his billy.
Half-Sack and Sally slipped out back, for some reason, but at the back door she turned her head, shook her bangs, and called out loudly answering the question for the Stranger…”That’s when you kick over the phuckin’ table! Curtis, yer an idiot!”. Half-Sack had ‘hold of Sally’s ass as the door slammed.
Wally reached ’round an’ drew a re-fill from the tap.
We all chipped in, well, not Half-Sack, but the rest of us chipped in, and Curtis took the guy to the Greyhound Station and bought him a ticket to Laramie, 100 miles away. He left with the hundred bucks we gave him.
“Ah always leave a fella a way to git out, git away…it’s better. That’s what the Sheriff sez”, remarked Curtis the following Thursday foldin’ his $20 contribution as he finished his brew.
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