To my friends in education: Just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of ignorance, you find there is no bottom to this abyss. New Balance Tienda cheap albion silver The powers of ignorance and darkness are mighty. asics gel nimbus 14 donna cheap albion gold Every semester my college students are required to study plagiarism and every semester someone lists “SELF-PLAGIARISM” as a type of plagiarism. albion silver And unfortunately, there are sites, even some educational sites that warn students against self-plagiarism. Women Air Jordan 11 One student complained about the points I took off when she wrote a whole paragraph on “self-plagiarism.” She used a Wikipedia article as a source. NIKE Air VAPORMAX nike air max pas cher (Now, there’s an academic site for you!) This absurd notion makes me want to stick my head in the fan. Air Max Tailwind There is no such thing as self-plagiarism. buy albion gold The idea is ridiculous. It may be perhaps less than honest, may be lazy for one to recycle work, improve it, or adapt it to an assignment, but it is not stealing something from someone else and claiming it as one’s own. nike air max pas cher (The definition of plagiarism remember?) Think about it: How can one steal something from one’s self? It’s absurd. nike tn homme new balance 574 homme gris I can see why academic journals and such may not want recycled writing, but calling it plagiarism does not make it plagiarism. Nike Air Max 90 Pour Pas Cher

albion gold Even Shakespeare borrowed scenes from his own writing. Danny Amendola buy albion gold In A Midsummer’s Night Dream, Act V.1, he had a more or less condensed version of Romeo and Juliet (of course a comedic version of that tragic romance). Javier Baez Authentic Jersey Students too often believe anything anyone says without thinking of basic word definitions and logic. goedkoop nike air max 2016 Hogan Uomo Prezzi cheap albion gold I would affirm that every published writer in the world saves and uses previous writing–and that’s as it should be. nike air max 1 og męskie

buy albion silver If a writer didn’t save, improve, adapt and pull phrases and paragraphs and words from his previous writing (Ah, all those writing notebooks I’ve saved often come in handy), he or she might have very little to say.

I love the fall! One of the things I always look forward to is seeing the churches with their pumpkin patches! These fundraisers seem to lift our spirits as well as to financially help the ministries of schools and churches. Stanford Cardinal cheap albion gold This is the first time I’ve been asked to be a part of one of the pumpkin patches as a storyteller and folksinger. Memphis Grizzlies

albion silver It ought to be a great time. Georgia Bulldogs Jerseys cheap albion silver Feel free to share this flier,

Serendipity often does this to me–it leads me to discover new songs. Nike Air Max 2016 Rosso Uomo

cheap albion gold I was watching a movie, new balance u420 femme gris rose buy albion gold Behind the Sun, Adidas NMD Heren buy albion gold starring Kim Dickens (you’ve seen her on Treme) and she portrayed a singer who sang this song: “Where Evil Grows.” (The voice was actually that of Kristen Vigard) I did find a video here of the Poppys performing the song, Nike Air Max Très pas cher cheap albion gold but couldn’t find Vigard’s version anywhere). New Balance 997.5 mujer albion gold “Where Evil Grows”: Performed by Susan & Terry Jacks, Canotte Denver Nuggets buy albion silver the Poppy Family Verse One Gm Cm Gm I like the way you smile at me Gm Cm Gm I felt the heat that enveloped me Gm Bb Cm And what I saw I liked to see Gm I never knew where evil grew Verse 2: Gm Cm Gm I should have steered away from you Gm Cm Gm My friend told me to keep clear of you Gm Bb Cm But something drew me near to you Gm I never knew where evil grew Chorus: Bb Gm Evil grows in the dark Cm Gm Where the sun it never shines Cm F Cm F Evil grows in cracks and holes Eb Gm And lives in people’s minds Bb Gm Evil grew, nike air max 1 ultra moire donna albion silver it’s part of you Cm D And now it seems to be Cm F Cm Gm That every time I look at you Eb Gm Evil grows in me Chords of Bridge: Gm Bb F Gm Bb F Verse 3: If I could build a wall around you I could control the thing that you do But I couldn’t kill the will within you And it never shows The place where evil grows Chorus: Evil grows in the dark Where the sun it never shines Evil grows in cracks and holes And lives in people’s minds Evil grew,

The Heart Is Not Made of Bone—Krio Proverb

I was sent to Freetown, Sierra Leone by the Dallas Morning News to write a story on the nation’s recovery after its bloody civil war. One night I went to Paddy’s Bar and Chinese Restaurant. Paddy’s was a favorite haunt of Westerners and had a reputation for being a place where Africa met the world. The food was good, the drinks affordable, and usually the bar was crowded to capacity. I had made an appointment to meet with Father Ambrose, a priest whose mission and village in the northern district was overrun by RUF soldiers. I knew it would not be a pretty story—there were no pretty stories coming out of Sierra Leone—but I hoped it would give me insight into the soul and hearts of the nation’s people. My first question was: “What is the most important truth you’ve learned from your experience?” He sipped on his Scotch, then answered: “I learned that the heart is not made of bone.” Father Ambrose and I talked and drank long into the night. His bandaged right hand rested on the bar, a reminder of a night he and many others would never forget. Here is the story he gave me that I submitted to my editor. It was never published.

A Priest’s Tale: Machetes and Words

A writer I read somewhere said that if it weren’t for the AK 47’s they carried, the Zebra Small Boys Battalion would have appeared to be an African version of the Boy Scouts out for an afternoon stroll, dressed in a collage of fatigues and American T-shirts and jeans. Their hands and clothes were spotted and crusted with the blood of those newly slain or violated. soldes nike 2017 The soldiers surrounded a small herd of captives like malignant spectres. A line of porters, even younger than the soldiers, trailed behind them, and they were loaded down with the looted goods of Kamakwie and Kamalu. As the invaders entered the mission compound in the Northern District of Sierra Leone, Father Ambrose contemplated the scene. Many of the villagers were terrified. The screams, weeping, moans, and prayers blended together into a demented chorus, and the sounds of the choir’s grief and terror burned and burrowed into his soul. In the eyes and faces of the soldiers, he recognized the signs of drug madness and bloodlust. He whispered to Sister Agnes, “Calm the villagers. Nike Air Force 1 Men

Tell them they must stop the wailing. It will only feed the soldiers’ rage and frenzy. Find out what has happened in Kamalu. Minister to any wounded the best you can without attracting attention.” “I will, father. May God help us,” Sister Agnes said. As she tended to the terrified villagers, the priest counted twenty boy-soldiers. Two older soldiers hung in the background. One was white, the other mulatto. cheap albion gold The aloofness of the two older men suggested they were either mercenaries or senior RUF officers. One of the boy soldiers sauntered to the truck and barked a command. All the soldiers dropped their prizes and snapped to attention. He spoke again and pointed, and a soldier set a wooden rocker upon a stack of wooden crates. A teenager with a Machiavellian smile, he slowly scanned the eyes of villagers and the young soldiers. He clambered up the boxes and sat on the improvised throne, impatiently drumming his fingers on the chair’s arm. A soldier rolled a stump to a spot directly in front of the prisoners. buy albion silver The enthroned one spoke dramatically, as if he made an important speech. Father Ambrose couldn’t understand the young boy-leader. He thought the dialect might be Mende. He stepped forward. “I don’t understand you, my son,” he said. He addressed the two older soldiers. “Do any of you speak English? Or Temne? Is he your leader? Why does he not speak Krio?” The white soldier held his hand up, palm toward the boy-leader and caught his attention. The white soldier motioned toward the priest and said in Krio, “The priest-man, he wants to know who you are and what you want. Can I tell him?” “Tell him,” the boy said in English, and then continued speaking in the unknown tongue. The white man stepped closer to the priest and translated: “The General prefers to address his audience in Mende. He understands some English, and Krio of course, but it makes him feel more important to be translated. God, these black buggers I work with are vain. I’ll tell you what he says, priest. He says, ‘I am General Share Blood.’ He greets you warmly. He says, ‘We are soldiers of the Revolutionary United Front. At Papa’s orders, we are here to liberate you from the corrupt government in Freetown. I have been told that you warn your Christians to not join Papa’s Army. Why? Is this a sign that you mean to betray us? You must learn you cannot show such disrespect.’ ” General Share Blood pointed to two Kamalu boys. The white soldier left the priest and yanked two boys away from their parents. Father Ambrose thought that neither boy could be over ten years of age. The white soldier cocked his AK 47 and thrust it into one boy’s hands, pointed to the other who was less than five feet away, and said, “Kill him.” The victim pleaded, “Please, I know you. Do not kill me!” The mercenary slapped the boy’s head. “Do it now!” The boy pulled the trigger. “That’s a good soldier. Gud pikin.” The white soldier snatched his rifle from the boy’s trembling hands and shoved him toward the other soldiers. “Sit down.” Father Ambrose bowed his head and prayed for murdered and murderer. This action had forever separated the young boy from the village of Kamalu. The new recruit could never come home. General Share Blood pointed to Father Ambrose. “You have diamonds for me?” “No,” Father Ambrose said. “We have no diamonds. adidas uk All of the diamond mines are far from here.” “You do not speak true. adidas pas cher femme You have diamonds.” He clapped his hands three times. The boy soldiers herded another group of villagers forward and gunned them down. Air Jordan 2 Homme

The slaughter was followed by an ecstatic dance around the bodies. As they danced, the drunken and drugged executioners howled and fired their guns wildly into the air. “Now you have diamonds for me?” General Share Blood asked. Father Ambrose feared the mission staff might be killed next. He once again attempted to communicate. “I tell you we have no diamonds. This is cattle country.” Father Ambrose called out to the white man, “Who are you? Why are you here with these boys? Are you a mercenary? Are you not a high-ranking officer? Do you not see what they have just done? You must order him to stop this senseless killing. These people have done nothing to harm or threaten you. Have you no conscience?” The white man sat down in front of Ambrose. “No, I don’t.” He dropped a box of cartridges on the ground in front of him, and slowly reloaded his rifle magazine. The box was covered with Arabic writing. “Conscience is a luxury I cannot afford,” the white man replied. “I ‘m here as an advisor. About what’s happened—I don’t try to make sense of these buggers’ politics.” General Share Blood stood and stretched lazily, then resumed his seat. “It is time for the games,” he said in English. He drained a gourd of palm wine, then looked down upon the throng before him as if he were indeed perched on a royal throne. “I am thirsty for my daily drink of blood. Who among you will provide it? Perhaps you?” General Share Blood pointed at Brother Thomas. One soldier in a Rambo T-shirt grabbed the mission’s gardener by the shirt collar and dragged him forward. The gardener’s little girl clung to his leg screaming. Brother Thomas tried to pry loose his little girl’s hands, but she clung stubbornly. When Brother Thomas and his daughter in tow reached the stump in front of General Share Blood, the Rambo soldier placed the man’s arm across the top of the stump and drew his machete. As he raised the blade, Father Ambrose stepped forward and placed his hand on the young soldier’s shoulder. “No, my son. Do not hurt this man. He is good man, good friend.” The soldier holding the gardener squinted at the priest through cocaine and ganja-glazed eyes. He glanced at the general, then back to the priest. Something human etched itself upon his face. “Father, I do not know what I do,” he whispered. “Put the cutlass down, my son,” Father Ambrose said quietly. “You are a Christian man. I know you are afraid, but God will give you strength.” The trembling blade rose for a moment, then the young soldier stabbed the machete into the earth, and knelt before the priest with his eyes to the ground. Some of the soldiers hooted and laughed. General Share Blood shouted for the soldier to continue. “No,” the young Rambo replied. “I will not hurt this man.” Then to Father Ambrose he whispered, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Father Ambrose knelt and gave the repentant man absolution in an abbreviated form, confident that God would accept the adaptation. General Blood’s retort was sharp, and two soldiers dragged the rebellious Rambo forward and held him before the General. After the General clumsily climbed down from his wooden-box throne, he plucked a long, dry leaf from a nearby tree, and rolled it up like a cigar. He lit it with a cigarette lighter, then as his troops held the man’s face, pressed the burning leaf into the soldier’s eye. General Blood smiled at the soldier’s screams. He swaggered around, looking at his soldiers and his captives, holding a fist in the air triumphantly. Father Ambrose stood and shouted, “Listen to me, all of you!” He looked at the white mercenary. “Please, do not let him do this. Ask your leader to take what he wants, but please, do not injure anyone else. We will not assist any of your enemies. ” He was cut short when the mercenary barked a command and one of the soldiers pushed him roughly to the ground. The mercenary slung his rifle onto his shoulder and strode toward the priest. On his way he kicked the sobbing young boy-soldier who was clutching his eye and writhing on the ground like a wounded snake. “That’s the problem when you don’t take them young enough,” the mercenary said. “I thought he was going to make a fine soldier, but I guess I was wrong. Our training was wasted on him. Now, if he lives, he won’t even be fit to be a porter.” “You do not talk like a man should, but like an animal,” Father Ambrose said. “No wonder the people of Salone fear and hate your soldiers. The RUF once were men of ideals who talked of helping the people of Salone. But now . . cheap albion gold .” The mercenary knelt and whispered, “Priest, I tend to like men in your occupation, but we don’t have time for a long philosophical discussion. The situation is actually very simple. The towns of this district and your mission are now under the control of the RUF. The ideals you speak of left Salone with the educated elite émigrés, and the same ideals left the RUF when Papa discovered how much money he could make in the diamond trade. Now, you cooperate and I might get you out of this in one piece. I want you to hook up your radio and call whoever you need to call and have them send money and diamonds. The general wants diamonds; but he and I both will settle for American dollars. Then, maybe he will let you go.” “Diamonds? He wants blood diamonds?” Father Ambrose felt a rage coursing through his body and he surrendered to it. He shouted, “And you want money? You want us to ask for ransom? You white devil! You want me to cooperate with this sadist and ask for money to buy our freedom? No!” The mercenary patted Father Ambrose’s face, turned to General Share Blood and in Krio said, “The priest, he will not respect the General.” Shouting, the General leaped from the chair to the ground. Father Ambrose felt boys’ hands clutching and dragging him forward. He was thrown to the ground next to the mission’s gardener and his daughter, and the three of the knelt together before General Share Blood. Ambrose looked up into the face of a young girl beside the general. She drew a machete from her web belt and nodded toward Brother Thomas, the gardener. Two soldiers stretched Thomas’s arm across the stump, and with a deft stroke, she amputated his right hand. Then she pointed to the little girl. Two strokes this time. The girl swooned and fell to her knees, a Lavinia holding up two bleeding handless limbs. At the sight, the priest felt his heart break within himself, and he knew now that all the sadness he had ever felt and all the evil and suffering he had ever seen had reached a culminating point, a climax. As if in the audience of a tragic play, he waited for the drama’s catharsis, the purging of his heart through pity and terror. The machete-welding girl smiled and pointed to Father Ambrose. Father Ambrose felt the rough top of the stump against his skin, felt the wetness of Thomas’s blood underneath, saw the whiteness of his own skin in the fading light. buy albion gold General Share Blood held the mission’s gold communion cup in his hands. The general turned dramatically, displaying the chalice to the group. He handed it to one soldier who knelt in front of the stump and held it at the ready. Father Ambrose flexed his fingers, staring at his hand. What followed seemed to happen in slow motion. A machete flashes in the fading sunlight. He hears a thwack, a thumping sound. The fingers wriggle on his detached left hand, convulsing on top of the stump as if they now had a life of their own apart from his brain. The hand rolls to the ground with the other three hands where it seems to crawl about. Another boy lifts the priest’s arm so the blood drips into the communion cup. His heart pumps four times and the cup is full. White hands wrap coarse twine tightly around his arm to stem the bleeding. The foaming cup is placed reverently into General Share Blood’s hands. Father Ambrose stared at the smooth, flat wall of bone and nerves and tissue where his hand used to be. The thought was odd, but he thanked God the machete used was sharp. He had heard tales of how the machetes were often dull and how they mangled the limbs of victims. Ambrose remained on his knees. He knew his body was in shock, but he couldn’t think of what he should do or say about it. He glanced up into the smiling, drugged face of the machete-girl. He studied her blood-splotched face as if it were an icon of a black Madonna. An amazon, Father Ambrose thought. This girl is a true amazon. She would amputate anything, even her own breast if it were in her way. He heard her chatter to the others in Krio. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder, and he turned. Another icon. This time, it is the tear-stained face of Sister Agnes. “What is she saying?” he asked her. “The machete-girl there.” Sister Agnes drew him to her bosom. Her breast felt soft, warm, comforting. “She calls herself Betty Cut Hands and she is General Shareblood’s queen. Here, open your mouth.” She pressed two tablets onto his tongue. “Swallow them. They’re pain pills. We have no water, so you’ll have to swallow them dry. Now, close your eyes. I’m sure you are in shock.” He swallowed the pills but he didn’t close his eyes. buy albion gold From within her embrace, he watched as drugs were mixed into the communion cup holding his blood and stirred with the General’s finger. The General, still thirsty for his daily blood, drank the priest’s blood and thumped his chest with his fist. He pointed to other soldiers who one by one came to the altar of the stump to sup and share in the sacred ritual of his perverted communion. The chalice was returned to the General and after he drained it, he set it on a crate next to him. He licked his lips, and his eyes rolled with delight. Father Ambrose turned his head and wept. Through the veil of tears, he spotted Tejan. How long had it been since that terrible day when the RUF kidnapped Tejan and five other students? Four years? Tejan possessed the same glazed eyes as the others, and an AK 47 was slung over his shoulder. Father Ambrose tried to focus his blurred, swirling vision. He raised himself and rubbed at his burning eyes with the stump of his right hand. He attempted to stand and go to Tejan, but the world spun in a strange mosaic of black and white faces, and he collapsed backwards into Sister Agnes’s arms. “Father, here, I will wipe your eyes,” Sister Agnes whispered. “What can I do? What will happen with us?” He willed himself to answer her, but his tongue was thick and slow. Finally, he uttered, “Vado mori.” He buried his face in her bosom. It was time to leave this sad earth. He knew too much now, had seen too much. albion silver “No, Father,” she whispered. “You cannot die and leave us alone.” When he woke, he was still alive in the sister’s arms. Everything of value in the mission and village had been piled in front of General Share Blood, who had returned to his throne of boxes. The priest’s hand was now buried beneath a pile of black hands, arms, legs, and ears. Several buildings and houses about them were burning. From within one he heard screams and saw black arms reaching out from the flames like anguished souls trapped in a torture chamber of hell. The General’s soldiers had found more palm wine. As they drained gourd after gourd, they fired their guns into the air, and they danced and staggered about a large fire like stiff skeletons in a danse macbre. One soldier had donned a nun’s habit, another a choir robe. Father Ambrose watched the one-eyed, disobedient soldier embrace a palm tree and struggle to pull himself to his feet. When he finally wrestled himself upright, a machine gun riddled his body and he died with his one good eye open, his arms still clutching the palm. Father Ambrose thought the RUF soldiers had executed the one-eyed soldier until he saw the mulatto fall. Then General Share Blood and his chair throne tumbled backwards. When the general’s body hit the ground, the gold communion cup bounced toward the priest. There was no blood in the chalice. Several of the dancing boy-soldiers dropped one by one as they too were splattered with bullets. An enemy presence was perceived and the boy soldiers of the Zebra battalion broke and ran. The white mercenary stood his ground, methodically taking aim and firing his automatic rifle. Washington State Cougars Jerseys Bullets peppered his white skin, and he fell to his knees. Then when a bullet struck his forehead, he fell face-first to the dark ground. A group of black shadows swarmed him, and Ambrose heard the sound of the clubs and spears as they struck and tore at his corpse. Several men sprinted past Father Ambrose in pursuit of the fleeing Zebra battalion. Some of the men were in fatigues, and others wore animal skins. One pushed Ambrose to the ground. “We have come to help you, Fader,” he said. “ Please, you are to stay close to de ground.”   “Father?” Sister Agnes whispered as she ducked down next to him. Villanova Wildcats “What’s happening?” “Government soldiers and Kamajors,” he said. “And maybe some Nigerian troops from Makeni. Stay down until we’re sure it’s safe.” “Oh, thank God they have come,” she whispered. A Kamajor threw a Zebra boy down near them and then machined-gunned him. The young rebel’s body bounced like a martinet as the bullets riddled his adolescent body. The Kamajor looked down at Ambrose and smiled. “It be OK soon, Fader,” he said. “Good Christians be here now.” Father Ambrose turned his head from the sight of the boy’s body. air max 90 damskie pomara czowe “Yes, Sister Agnes,” he said. “Thank God they have come.” The Kamajors and soldiers returned from their pursuit, herding several of the Zebra boys in front of them, caning them unmercifully every step. The mission captives watched as the Kamajors beat and then executed the rebels one by one with their guns or staves. A few of the younger rebel boys were terrified and began to moan senselessly, as if they were deaf and dumb. But the ruse of being a handicapped child was unconvincing, and the beatings and executions continued. The wails of the boy-soldiers filled the night and the sound could have been the audio illustration for the nightmarish paintings of Munch or Goya. Two more Kamajors returned, dragging a body. Father Ambrose saw that it was Tejan, a boy who had been taken from the village two years ago. The priest watched as they kicked him and whipped him with sticks. When one pointed a rifle at his head, Father Ambrose shouted, “No! He is one of ours!” “Are you sure, Fader?” the Kamajor said. “He look like rebel soldier moment ago. He fight me hard with his empty gun before I conk him on de head.” “I am sure. His name is Tejan,” he said. With his right hand, he picked up the gold communion cup and held it out to the Kamajor. “He’s probably just frightened.” “You can have him, Fader.” The Kamajor stuffed the chalice into his fanny pack and moved on. “Father!” Sister Agnes whispered. “What are you doing? This boy probably did some horrible things to . . .” “Hush, sister. The sin will be on my own soul. I knew this boy and his parents, and, demon though he is now, I’m not going to give him up to these murderers. He was kidnapped by the RUF a few years ago. Now, help me with him.” Together, they dragged the unconscious Tejan over to their group. Fortunately, Tejan had not been shot, only clubbed. A cane had laid his head open, and Sister Agnes pressed her hand on the wound. “Tejan . . . Tejan . . . Do you know who I am?” Ambrose asked. cheap albion silver Tejan’s eyes opened, and he groaned. Several villagers shook their heads in disgust at the priest. Ambrose knew they perceived his mercy as another example of the strange behavior and values of the poo-muis and that it confirmed their long-held suspicions of the priest-man’s naiveté. The Kamajors and government troops moved on in their search for more rebels. When the mission staff had buried the dead and every body part they could find, they filled the mission’s Toyota truck with the weak and wounded, twenty-three in all, and began the drive to Freetown. There they would join thousands of other refugees seeking safety and peace. Eventually, the RUF was defeated, some semblance of peace was restored, but nightmares are slow to fade in this land that few Americans know anything about.

* * *

From that sad priest I heard a story, a dark one of suffering, of one boy’s redemption, and of a priest who had nearly lost his faith. albion gold I learned that many reporters had covered those war days, the days of the Blood Diamonds, and written stories that were never published in our news. Some reporters, like many religious leaders, had paid with their lives. The suffering of Sierra Leone in those years is almost more than one can absorb. There is a glimmer of hope for the future, but nothing is for certain. The priest’s story would never leave my mind.

I’ve long been a fan of Jed Marum’s music and songwriting. Women Air Jordan 11 His technique is flawless and versatile, whether flatpicking or finger picking on guitar, banjo, and banjola. Los Angeles Lakers

fjällräven kånken Laptop 13 He is a road warrior–traversing the nation with his songs and stories for audiences of all ages. Geoff Schwartz asics gel lyte 3 hombre negras Of all Marum’s CDs, I feel that he has produced his masterpiece with The South Wind (Though Cross Over the River is a close second). Air Jordan 9 Homme

adidas neo daily team męskie This CD, released on March 17, 2013, captures the spirit of the South and succinctly communicates what it means and what it feels like to be a Southerner. new balance 373 homme bordeaux Marum’s songs tell stories that are the fruit of his constant reading and research into the War Between the States. Air Max 2016 Goedkoop These songs are historically accurate and the lyrics are vivid–often sharp enough to cut the heart. buy albion gold nike air max 2017 dames Roze The songs take us into Arkansas, Virginia, Missouri, and force us to look at the War through the eyes of those who lived it, who were brutalized by it, and who died because of it. Los Angeles Clippers

Jed’s been working on this CD for a few years. Minkah Fitzpatrick Jersey Nike Air Max pas chers It has a South Positive message. Cheap Nike shoes Andrew Luck – Stanford Cardinal Performing with Marum in various tracts are Linda Relph, fiddle; David Lovrien, whistles; Lary Leghorn Fowler, highland pipes, and the Student Choir from Northfield School of Wichita, Kansas.

Tonight on NCIS (one of the very few television shows I can be convinced to watch) I heard this song that I think is a very fitting song for the holidays. adidas ultra boost donna albion gold I want to be the first to post the lyrics and guitar chords on the Internet. Air Jordan Retro 11 cheap albion silver You can hear the song on YouTube here: “Nothing More” by The Alternate Routes (an American rock band out of Bridgeport, Connecticut formed by Tim Warren and Eric Donnelly in 2002) Am C To be humble to be kind, F G7 It is a giving of the peace in your mind, Am F C To a stranger to a friend, F C G7 To give in such a way that has no end, C Am We are love, we are one, F C G7 we are how we treat each other when the day is done. adidas outlet shop online buy albion gold C Am We are peace, we are war, F G7 C we are how we treat each other, and nothing more. cheap albion gold AM B; C To be bold, to be brave, F G7 It is a thinking that the heart can still be saved, Am B C And the darkness can come quick, F G7 And the dangers in the anger and the holding on to it. adidas superstar rose gold pas cher We are love, we are one, We are how we treat each other when the day is done. Jordan Big Size buy albion gold We are peace, we are war, We are how we treat each other, and nothing more. Nike Air Max 2017 Dames roze

G AM And tell me what is that you’ll see F C G7 A world that’s full of endless possibilities, AM And heroes don’t look like they used to, G7 They look like you do, We are love, we are one, We are how we treat each other when the day is done. Nike Air Max 2017 Dames zwart cheap albion gold We are peace, we are war, We are how we treat each other, and nothing more. asics iii damskie buy albion silver We are how we treat each other , nothing more. Goedkoop Air Max 2016 Schoenen albion silver We are how we treat each other.

On Monday, adidas hamburg hombre June 17 the Bard of the South presented his Scots-Irish program at the Caldwell Parish Public Library in Columbia, Maglie Boston Celtics Louisiana. nike air max 2016 goedkoop The storyteller and roving troubadour presented songs, nike air max 2016 zwart stories of leprechauns and saints, Kopen nike air max schoenen and facts relating to the Seven Celtic Nations. Air Jordan 9 Retro Pittman also presented information relating to his children’s picture books, Boston Celtics The Irish Alphabet and the Scottish Alphabet and his Scots-Irish CD, Goedkoop Nike Air Max The Minstrel Boy by the Bard of the South. The audience varied in ages from infant to adult, Air Max 90 Mujer and participation and interest was at a high level. Nike Air Max 2016 Goedkoop Pittman performs at the Columbia Library annually.

Rendezvous: When the Present is an Anachronism

by Rickey E. Pittman

Historic Fort Washita, located just outside of Durant, Oklahoma, on the first weekend of April, is the yearly host to what is known as a “Fur Trade Rendezvous.” The year I went, an estimated 15,000 visitors, including bussed in high school students, viewed and sampled the wares of the 30-35 vendors and observed the 150 plus campers of the rendezvous. Vendors (who like to call themselves traders or sutlers) and campers all had one thing in common: everything they wore, used, sold or traded, ate was made, done, or prepared exactly as it would have been before 1840. Canotte Basket I felt like an anachronism, walking about in my modern dress, listening to their conversations and interviewing them about the rendezvous experience. Except for the cars I could see in the background at the Fort’s entrance, I felt I had been transported into an 1840 frontier village. I have always been a lover and student of history, but I learned much more than I expected and intended. What I observed in the people of this rendezvous was not a quaint infatuation with the past, like one might have when he or she dresses up like General Grant or a Southern belle for a costume party. I felt like my body and face had been slammed into history. Those who participated in the rendezvous have an intensity that is both charismatic and jarring. They not only know and love history—they live it. Roy Kelly Jr. of Norman, Oklahoma, expressed one aspect of the rendezvous philosophy eloquently. He said, “The code we live by of is of a time that has passed, but it was a good code. Things were dealt with properly. For example, the way you treat people.” And from what I observed, they treat visitors and participants alike with politeness, dignity, and respect. Just as it was in the early 19^th Century for the trappers and explorers, the rendezvous is a primary (and in some case, the only) source of income a source of entertainment, a source of information. I found that many are part of a rendezvous every week of the year. It is their life. The rendezvous follows a strict code of ethics, and camp rules, from what I heard, are strictly enforced. nike air max 90 pas cher A rendezvous may range from ultra primitive (where they literally have to walk or ride a horse or mule in) to what is considered very comfortable camping such as they enjoyed at Fort Washita. The rendezvous may be regional or national, and they are held all over the nation, with the ones in the West being the largest, some with over 1,000 campers.

Those who are really into the rendezvous experience have a distinctive lifestyle. Even when away from the rendezvous, many grow all their own food, and live without most of the technology and comforts (electricity, running water, etc.) of our modern society. And they seem quite happy to be living so. History is the bond of this unique brotherhood, and history is the teacher. nike air max italian camo nike air max nederland They have values and a passion which is unique to our present age with its deepening apathy, ignorance, and dependence upon creature comforts. The cumulative knowledge of this growing group of people is a massive storehouse of practical knowledge ranging from craftsmanship to survival skills. And as all who take on this lifestyle seem to be passionate learners, readers, and researchers, these men, women, and children are able to keep history alive. I talked to some who had grown up in this lifestyle and never known anything else. Womens Air Jordan 6 A rendezvous is a sensory experience. I was overwhelmed by the rich aroma of the foods. The small campfires spread the smell of woodsmoke throughout the grounds of the fort. Minnesota Golden Gophers Jerseys Girls and ladies in buckskin and calico dresses, all handmade, glided about in moccasins or bare feet. Nike Air Huarache Heren A plains Indian in war bonnet and buckskin leggings and shirt carried a curved lance and rode about on an Appaloosa. The canvass tents of the traders were mixed with teepees for families with horses and mules tethered nearby. nike air zoom pegasus 33 hombre The competitions with axe, rifle, pistol, bow and arrow, and knife, were spirited and entertaining. (The bows, by the way, were handmade. One contestant told me he had spent months shaping his Osage Orange bow.) I learned also how vital some of the knowledge and skills these people have are to us. For example, Lloyd Teeter of Foss, Oklahoma is a trapper—badgers, coyotes, bobcats, raccoons, possums, muskrats, beavers, and skunks. Nike Air Jordan 14
Recently an Oklahoma school had a severe skunk problem. (Need I describe how odious and traumatic an experience this could have been to the educational process there?) He trapped 10 skunks from beneath the schoolhouse without the first spraying incident. If you ever have a “varmint” problem, these trappers would be good to contact. I also met Ron Ashbury, a pencil artist, and a wonderul storyteller. We chatted as he was sketching Ft. Washita and some of the scenes of the rendezvous. He told me of the ghosts of Fort Washita, his ancestors, and his thoughts of the rendezvouz experience. Goedkope Nike Air Max 1 He made the point, that sometimes, if we understand the past, we can understand the present and understand our own world. To illustrate, he told me of some gypsum hills near Fort Washita known as the Indian stomping grounds. He told me how his grandfather had taken him to these hills as a boy and told him the various Indian legends, and how if you stomped the ground you could hear the old dance steps of Indians ghosts trapped below. Of course, he knew that the hollow sound was only due to the unique construction of those hills. Nike Solarsoft asics scarpe tennis bambino But I started thinking that this was a good analogy to understand the rendezvous crowd. There they are, in their ridiculous pioneer attire, able to live in self-sufficiency in a way most can never imagine. And why do they live that way? Because when they leave the rendezvous experience and return to us, and they stomp on the hollow ground of modern American culture, all they hear is a hollow sound, and they turn back to the hills, to their flint and steel, to families raised with books instead of television. And you know what? They really do quite fine. Nike Air Max Très pas cher Obviously, the rendezvous experience is not for everyone. Danny Amendola Jersey One man in modern dress passed me and said something about how stupid these people looked. Nike Air Max 2017 Heren grijs I was amused because by modern standards he could have easily qualified as “stupid looking.” His girlfriend did not appear pleased with his attitude and she distanced herself from him by a couple of feet and went by herself into one of trader’s tents. asics gel lyte 5 mujer beige nike buty dziecięce By the frustrated look on his face and the hurt look on hers, I think the emotional distance between them also increased. However, if you love history, if you want to see history as it was (at least as close as we can reproduce it), if you want to meet people who have minds sharper and a lifestyle tougher and leaner than most today have, a rendezvous can be an enriching experience. And who knows, if you go next year and pass a longhaired, buckskin-clad man cleaning his muzzleloader or munching down the sourbread, he just might be me. Just look for the camera and the writing pad. asics mexico damskie 1840’s rules or not, I don’t think I’m ready to give them up.

I’ve been the emcee at the North Texas Irish Festival for a few years and it was there that I heard and met Hailey Sandoz. I was so impressed with this beautiful, talented young lady that I felt I should write this interview. She is on Facebook, and you can find her schedule there and on her website, listed below. 1. Q: When did you first pick up the fiddle/violin? When was the first time you heard it and knew that’s what you wanted to do? I started playing violin when I was eight-years-old. Air Jordan 1 My Friend Caroline Adams, who was 13, would bring her violin to a homeschool gatherings we attended, and would play a few tunes. I started really showing interest in playing the violin, and asked Caroline if she would teach me. 2. Q: You’ve received several awards. Tell my readers about those. Well, in 2012 I won the Southwest Celtic Music Association Scholarship Award. Nike Air Huarache Uomo I used the money towards going to the Nataile MacMaster Leahy Music camp in Canada. New Balance 990 mujer While I was at the Leahy camp I was privileged to receive for fiddle, the camp spirit award, which came with very generous music related prizes. 3. Q: How would you describe your style and songs? My style is made up of various genres of music. Besides Celtic music, I play Country, Bluegrass, French Canadian, and a little bit of Blues and Swing. I recently joined a Bluegrass band called “Nickelvile Road.” Anyway, my style has a little of all those. 4. Q: What advice would you give others who want to learn Irish/Scottish fiddle? My advice is to go to the O’Flaherty Irish Music youth camp and O’Flaherty Retreat. nike tn rouge The O’Flaherty Youth Camp is coming up June 24th-25th http://irishmusicyouthcamp.org/(there is still time to sign up). I’ve been going to both of these for years and each time I go I learn a lot! Last year the North Texas School of Irish Music was put together to help kids start playing Irish music and to learn more about it. I also recommend going to lots of sessions. nike air max pas cher You should also listen to as many recordings as you can. kanken fjallraven soldes 5. Q: Tell us about your fiddle that you use. I bought my current fiddle at the Luthier Fiddle Shop in Aubrey Tx. new balance 420 femme rose It was made by Steven T. Cundall. It is a Giorgio Luigi Belloso Valencia. It is such a great fiddle! 6. Q: Tell me about your touring schedule and future plans. As I said before, I play many genres with different people. To highlight a few, I perform a mix of Celtic and Old Tyme with a great guitarist friend, Joseph Carmichael. Nike Air Max 90 Donna Nere

Joseph and I have played many venues over the years. We’ve performed at the North Texas Irish Festival two years in a row, we’ve also performed a couple times at the Celtic Night at the Library at the Allen Library in their performance hall, this past March. Joseph Carmichael and I are performing monthly (except July, when he is out of the country) at McKinney Farmers Market on Chestnut square. We are performing there on June 22nd .

I play 2 services every Sunday with the band at Cowboy Church of Collin County. I usually perform once a month at Crossroads Cowboy Church in McKinney with the Crossroads Cowboy band. We performed in March at the Mesquite Resistol Arena in March and will also be performing with them again on June 30th at the Crossroads Freedom Celebration, you can get more information on the website. I play once a month at Trinity Hall Restaurant and Pub with the Trinity Hall Session Players. new balance 997 on sale Air Jordan 5 Also performing with Bluegrass band – Nickelville Road at Wylie Jubilee Bluegrass on Ballard Festival on Saturday July 6th and August 17th at the Acoustic Music Society in Paris Texas, The Chrystal Opry House is in Whitewright/Tom Bean area November 2nd http://chrystalopryhouse.com/ . For more events go to my website http://thefiddledancer.com/ 7. College Football Jerseys Q: Favorite tunes? There are so many great tunes its hard to choose one over the other. Air Max 2016 Sale New Balance 247 męskie But Here’s a few tunes: “Jeans reel,” “Guns of the Magnificent Seven,” and the “Oblique Jig.” 8. Q: What is hardest thing to learn playing Celtic fiddle? The bowing style is probably the hardest thing to overcome. There is so many techniques for bowing and patterns. Todd Gurley UGA Jersey 9. Q: Why do you like what you do? It’s a lot of fun, it give me something I can share with others, and it’s great sessioning with other people. scarpe asics running online 10. Q: Who has had the greatest influence on your musical career? Liz Carroll, and Patrick McAviune are my biggest influences. Russell Wilson Jerseys Though I have many influences, Clare Cason who is my fiddle teacher has really helped me over the years. I also want to acknowledge Ken Fleming, Peggy Fleming, Gordon McLeod, Michelle Feldman, and Rick Roberts, and many more. 11 Q: What are your future plans? I plan to play music professionally, maybe be a recording artist, and work with horses on the side. 12. Q: Your website/manager? My website is: http://thefiddledancer.com/ My manager is my mom Julia Sandoz. Air Max 2016 Mujer 13. Q: You’re an Irish step dancer. Inform my readers what that is and means. Irish dance is a form of dance originating from Ireland. NMD Adidas Dames Most people refer to it as Riverdance.

There are solo dances, and group dances called Figures. Most dancers go to competitions called Feis’. There are several types of dances Jig, Reel, Slip jig, Single jig, Treble jig, Hornpipe, and Treble reel.

Those of you who follow the blog of the Bard of the South know I’m a fan of Jeff Talmadge. I think he’s one of the most talented songwriters we have in Americana music.  Here are the chords and lyrics for “Midnight Flight,” a song that if should listen to when you put or see someone you know on a plane. If the chords are wrong or need tweaking, let me know. You can purchase the song on Amazon and other sites,  but you can download a iTunes copy here: Jeff’s website is here:

“Midnight Flight” by Jeff Talmadge

VERSE ONE: C F A midnight flight is leaving for Atlanta C G At least that’s where I’m guessing she is now, C F Then the roar of engines, then the lights beneath the thunder,  C G C And I can only wonder where that plane is setting down.

VERSE TWO: And if she’s got a window seat,  She’s looking while she’s leaving, Her memory grows smaller with the ride, There’s a fire on the horizon, Whether you’re coming or you’re going,  But you can’t tell if it just started Or if the fire has died.

CHORUS: Am F C G7 And I’ve been out walking when the morning looked like diamonds,  F Am I have smelled the sweet magnolias in the rain,  F G7 I could almost hear her talking, C F When the lightning lit my window, G7 F (Resolve on C) I can almost see her face against the pain.

VERSE THREE: It’s all a simple matter,  Of which way you are headed, If the place you’re going looks like hell or home, But tonight the storm is blowing And the elements are crashing, Tomorrow I will still be here And tomorrow,  she’ll be gone.