Rhetoric Schmetoric

I once tried to improve my writing by going to a writing work shop. I signed up for the following class. Writing 666 The Devil's work shop. Why are you here? I want to learn how to write. Good, show me your Allusion, Alliteration, Amplification, Anacoluthon, Anadiplosis, and Analogy I do not want to be a magician, I want to write. OK, Show me some Anaphora, Antanagoge, Antimetabole, Antiphrasis, Antithesis, and Apophasis I do not like scrabble, I only want to write. Yes but I need to see something in Aporoia, Aposiopesis, Apostrophe, Appositive, Assonance, and Asendeton Trivia is a game for nerds, I am serious about writing. If you are serious at least demonstrate Catachresis, Chiasmus, Climax, Conduplicatio, Diacope, and Dirimens Copulatio I may be able to do something with Climax and Copulatio, they both sound familiar. Do not be crude, to write you need be able to Distinctio, Enthymeme, Enumeratio, Epanalepsis, Epistrophe, and Epithet But these, whatever they are, are not even in spell check Spell Check? If you want to write your readers must hear Epizeuxis, Eponym, Exemplum, Expletive, Hyperbaton, and Hyperbole I just want to write simple prose without foul language Yes, but to write Prose, even simply, you must Hypophora, Hypotaxis, Litotes, Metabasis, Metanioia,and Metaphor I know metaphor. I'll Metaphor That is to simple, good writing requires Metonymy, Onomatopoeia, Oxymoron, Parallelism, Parataxis, and Personification, Now were getting somewhere. I can Personify an Oxymoron Parallelism and California has taught me about Parataxis Do not be trite. In this class we require Paranthesis, Pleonasm, Polesyndeton, Procatalepsis, Rhetorical Question, and Scesis Onomation Now you are getting trite. You cannot be serious...Scesis Onomation? Your are, of course, joking. Do not get smart with me you little imp. If you want me to help you, come up with some Sententia, Simile, Simploce, Synecdoche, Understatement, and Zeugma I've got a great Understatement for you Good, let me hear it. You can take your class and your rhetoric and go straight back down to hell. sbeatty/april 2009

Sneaky Snake

A cold wind had made the mountain morning seem colder than it really was. I had been bundled up with gloves on my hands and a ski mask over my face all morning. The sun had been out for over and hour and I was just beginning to get warm. I stopped to remove my gloves and ski mask so I could have better control of my hunting rifle. I don't know what I would have done if I had jumped a deer with the gloves and ski mask. I wouldn't have been able to see the dam thing let alone shoot it. I was to cold to care. Now I was more into it. The sun had turned a shivering numskull into a mighty hunter. At least that's what I was thinking at the time. Now I could rally get into it. I was going to get the big one. I was going to get the trophy deer. I was edging my way along a hill side of small sage brush and scattered cedar trees. I was moving slowly, alert for any movement or sound down in the gully below me or across the canyon on the opposite hillside. My leg brushed up against a sage brush and I heard a rattling sound. At first I thought it was the brush rubbing against my pants, but when I looked down, there was a small rattle snake, coiled and shaking his rattles at me. No big deal, a small rattler, a mighty hunter with a mighty deer rifle. That snake would make a great hat band. Fortunately for the snake, I panicked. I ran. I was forty yards down the mountain, my heart beating wildly, my head thumping and a cold sweat running down my back, before I got control of myself. To this day I will swear on a stack of bibles that I could hear that tiny little rattler laughing at me. I didn't bother to tell my hunting buddies about the snake. And, yep, you guessed it. I did not get a deer either.

The Life of a Writer

First Five Days, Travel Journal

I just got back from a 15 day cruise to Hawaii and thought I'd share part of my journal. We are not seasoned, world travelers and it will be obvious that I am not particularly suited for "cruising". I kept this journal for a friend who said she would probably never go on a cruise and wanted to live it through my eyes so I wrote it as if I was talking to her: Travel Journal April 1st, 2009 Our car and driver showed up 45 minutes early, Jon was out talking to the neighbors, I had to call him on his cell phone, and I was completely flustered. The driver parked his big old black town car in our neighbor’s car port, I was afraid he would come home and it would be a problem so I started madly dragging suitcases out to the porch while Jon got dressed. The driver was from Lebanon, I think that’s what he said, he had a wonderful accent, lots of curly black hair and fantastic long eye lashes. He wore a tie and dark jacket; he looked like a very formal chauffer and was distressed when he saw me dragging all six suitcases to the porch. He kept trying to get me to leave it, he wanted to take care of it for me but I kept dragging, worried about my neighbor. So much for the sophisticated world traveler! Jon came out and got in the act, I reached for the car door handle and the driver almost broke his neck rushing to open it for me. This is not at all how I imagined it would be. We are finally both seated in the plush leather of the back seat, the driver still doesn’t leave, he turns to tell us that our credit card was refused and he’ll need another. Oh swell! Jon is indignant, we owe nothing on the card, we’ve never been denied, someone must have entered the number incorrectly, all true but the driver has obviously heard all of this before, he is polite, I thrush my Visa at him and tell him to just charge that card instead. He does, we are finally on our way. April 2nd Somewhere in the pacific, we left Los Angeles Harbor about 4:30 yesterday afternoon; we are heading for Hawaii, first stop still four days away. The ship is beautiful; our cabin is nice we have a mini-suite with a private balcony. I imagined I would sit on said balcony and read each of the three books I purchased for the trip and write pages upon page in the two notebooks I brought along. The sun would shine by day and the sky would be lightened by hundreds of thousands of stars by night or so I imagined. Jon is taking a nap now, he’s sick. He came down with a sinus infection the day before the trip. He has antibiotics; we are hoping it will soon run its course. I am sitting on the small sofa; it is much too cold and windy to sit outside. Maybe tomorrow I’ll sit outside. Last night was rough. There were no stars, the sky was covered with clouds until the gale force winds started to blow, and they say they were blowing 50 miles per hour with gusts much higher. The sea churned and white caps were everywhere. We slept off and on, not well at all. Today we tried going to a lecture on the history of the hula. We weren’t up for it, we really didn’t care what her “lovely hula hands” were saying, and we cut out early, heading back to the cabin. It really is ok though, it’s quiet and I love the quiet. I have books and paper and my MP3 player, I glance out at the sea that is as gray as the sky it reflects. When Jon wakes up we will order an assortment of sandwiches and a pot of coffee from Room Service. Since we’ve left Los Angeles we have been eating on an average of once every two hours, if we get through this cruise without a diabetic comma or cardiac arrest, it will be a miracle. After the sandwiches we plan to dress for dinner and venture out to the dining room. Maybe tomorrow the sun will shine and the winds will all be behind us and I will care about the history of the hula and the intricacies of Hawaiian flower leis. Nah, probably not but still it is good to be here. They have close circuit television in the room I watch old re-runs of “The Love Boat” and to-night they will show Elvis in Blue Hawaii over and over again through out the night. Jon’s planning on going to the casino to play poker; I plan on curling up with Elvis. April 3rd Sitting on the same small sofa but this time with the sliding glass door wide open; the sky is gray but a couple of shades lighter than yesterdays, the sea is just moderately choppy today and the breeze is brisk but bearable. We took sleeping pills and caught up on our sleep last night; I have already drained my first pot of room service coffee and ate several buttered croissants. I’m thinking about getting dressed and going up to the 14th deck for a buffet breakfast. We ate dinner last night in the formal dining room. We were placed at a table with a party of four. Dinner was served by a whole army of waiters and the combination of dusting off my best table manners and making small talk with strangers was challenging for a crusty old hermit like me. The people at our table were nice, not snobbish, really, but they were very well traveled. The food itself was outside of my realm of experience. There were so many choices to make but each course was tiny and presented on a plate decorated with a sprig of this and a dab of that. There was hardly a taste, often not enough to even decide if I liked it or not. Jon was so confused by the menu, he just pointed to something and ended up with raw fish, sushi. He hates sushi so spent the next 20 minutes or so pushing it around his plate while waiting for the next course, I think he got some sort of pot roast dish made of buffalo and my main course was a seafood dish in a cream sauce. I loved the sauce and most of the sea food but the squid was weird looking and very tough. When I finally got a small piece cut off I chewed and chewed and then just washed it down with a gulp of water. This was way too much work for way too little food and all under the microscope of strangers and elitist waiters with foreign accents that I could hardly understand at all. Truly excruciating! Tonight is formal night; we must dress to the nines. We have reservations in a specialty restaurant (that means it costs extra but we can sit alone). Jon enjoys this so much more than I and that is really strange because he is very quiet; he has hardly any small talk at all. In his ideal world I would chat and laugh and twitter and he would sit back and smile, nod and eat. Horrors! April 4th, Saturday Each day the seas are calmer, the air is warmer. The sky is only partly cloudy this morning. The days are getting longer, when we left Los Angeles we gained an hour, last night we gained another. We will gain at least one more, maybe two? I’m confused, there is a four hour difference but they don’t do daylight savings time but we do so that means? I haven’t got a clue. During the night they slide the “Princess Patter” under our door, the ships newsletter that lists an amazing amount of activities that are scheduled for the next 24 hour period. There is nothing I want to do or watch, I am content with my books, the sea and, of course, the food. We eat snacks and meals throughout the day and then lavish dinners that cause stomach distress due to the late hour and rich food. That was certainly the case last night. Last night was the first of the formal nights and we did our best to comply. Jon wore a dark navy suit jacket and pants with a white shirt and a conservative striped tie. I have a pair of evening pants, you know the black flowy things that almost look like a long skirt; I topped it with an equally flowy black and silver chiffon top, it is long and forgiving but even so I wore the most stern and punishing undergarments. Namely, an black under wire bra and something called spanxs to cover, tame and de-jiggle the rest of me, a sort of elastic undergarment the covers everything from thighs to midriff, I pulled it right up to the bottom of my punishing bra. It took a great deal of time and unreasonable effort to get into these garments; I was pushed, cinched and compacted within an inch of life. Thus dressed, we waddled down to Sabatini’s one of the two specialty restaurants on board. We were able to sit blissfully along in a booth with extra pillows for our backs. There were an entire army of waiters once again, we chose only our entrée everything else was served to us and when say “everything” I mean everything. There were eighteen courses. Some were small but, eighteen? The plates and silverware were constantly being changed, the waiters placed the napkins in our laps and served and described each course, throughout the meal we were served by, I think six to seven waiters, and it was a parade of pomp and ceremony. They started with antipasto, an incredible variety of cold meats, olives, marinated vegetables and pickled mushrooms, there were two plates in all of cold appetizers, then came the hot appetizers and then three kinds of pasta, then soup and salad with a large basket of breads and thin slices of pizza. Finally our main dish, I had a shrimp dish in a rich cream sauce and Jon had Lobster tail. After that was suppose to be coffee, after dinner drinks and desserts but we called a halt, we had been eating constantly for two hours and I feared a violent reaction. They arranged to have our dessert delivered to our cabin and we waddled out, I, leaning heavily on Jon’s arm. We reached our cabin and I fairly exploded out of my undergarments. There are still two more formal nights on the trip back and here’s my plan, we will dress in whatever fits us comfortably at the time (I’m thinking a muumuu, no underwear) and then we eat early in the buffet and after, sit ourselves down in the pavilion level and sip tropical drinks and just people watch as they parade by on their way to all the formal dining venues. I can’t wait, it will be perfect! It is still April 4th I have been participating in negative thinking again. I’m very very good at it; it is wonderful to find something that I am truly talented at. Even so, I am concerned, all this negativity will surely throw a wet blanket on Jon’s “cruise experience” if I don’t at least try to rein it in a bit. Right here and now, I will list ten very cool things about this cruise. The food is delicious and plentiful (can that count as two things? No, I suppose not) Our stateroom is a nice size I can stay here and not feel closed in. Our private balcony is small but has two chairs that recline and two upright chairs that we use as foot rests plus a small table. It is all that we need. The color of the sea is deep midnight blue; I would like to buy something that color, a blouse and maybe a pair of earrings. The breeze is now light and refreshing but not cold. I can wear almost anything and still be comfortable. There are lots decks, seventeen in all and if I were so inclined I could walk them all, or at least most of them. By the way, I am not so inclined. I got the last jelly donut at the breakfast buffet. Coffee is plentiful and always fresh. A string quartet plays in the atrium every evening. Lots of the cruise personnel and passengers have English, Australian and various European accents that I adore eavesdropping on. I people watch and eavesdrop with fervor of an Olympic Sport. Sunday April 5th This is the last full day at sea. Tomorrow morning we dock in Hilo on the Island of Hawaii and we have reserved a rental car. It will be a big adventure but today is another day at sea. During the night we crossed the tropic of cancer, I woke up at 6:00 am and felt the tropical breeze and I knew instantly that something had changed. I went out on my balcony in my nightgown and looked up at dark stormy-looking clouds and felt a warm breeze, I knew I was in a tropical zone. The clouds are gone now and sea is still a deep blue but more of a sapphire color today. It’s time to complain, how can I give you a true account if I don’t share my grumbles and complaints? I simply must! I have not seen even one fish, dolphin, shark, or whale or any living thing in this sea. We saw so much wonderful sea life on our way to Mexico; I just assumed there would be as much if not more. Not even a minnow in a warm sea the color sapphires. This should not be. I should see a mermaid or King Neptune himself. Cruising is super Hokie and that is as it should be. The re-runs of Love Boat, the shuffleboard and the Hula lessons, all kinds of silliness none of which I take part in but still, it seems to me that it is the right thing for everybody else to do. It is like walking around in a play, a sort of two-dimensional charade that I observe from the inside without really participating in. Another complaint: My neighbors are on their balcony, they are talking to each other and I HATE it. I want to sit on my balcony, read my book and soak up the sea air totally alone. We can’t see each other but we are practically shoulder to shoulder. I hear every murmur, every throat clearing, and every conversation. To add insult to injury, they are boring. They really should not talk at all; they should be controlled by an anti-air pollution law. Nothing they say is funny, edifying or scandalous. By contrast, a melodic bell rings and the captain broadcasts his noon report from the bridge. The report consists of location and weather information and I hang on his every word as he speaks with his yummy English, oh-so-cultured accent. I guess it’s true what they say, “It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it”. Three Wishes 1. I wish I had a yummy English accent 2. I wish a porpoise or dolphin or even a large tuna would jump from the sea to welcome me to the Tropic of Cancer. 3. I wish one of my neighbors would fall overboard so the other one would have no-one to talk to. Failing that, I wish they would go to lunch.

Love, Ahhhh, Sweet, Confusing Love

What is Love? a song? a many splendor thing"? What is Love?

Love is complicated. Love is frustrating. Love is enchanting.

Most of all Love is confusing.

When we say, "We Love" Who do we Love? How do we Love? What do we Love?

I Love my wife I Love my mother brother sister aunts and uncles I Love the stars the wind and the trees. I Love my car my boat and my money I Love my dog my cat and and my parrot. I Love to hunt to fish and to hike. I Love football basketball and soccer. How do I love thee?

I cannot count the ways. Do I love thee like my dog? a fishing trip? a mountain hike? or maybe a brand new bike? Is my Love for thee like my Love for my mother? my brother? or my sister?

As you can see Love is really confusing to me

gs batty/april 09

I Wept

The morning sun reflected from her face. I felt I was looking at an angel. An Angel sent to me by God. But why? Why would God send me an Angel? For what purpose? Her face was beautiful. Not beautiful as a young woman would appear. but beautiful with life, beautiful with love, beautiful with knowledge, the knowledge that she would soon be with God. Yes, I was the doctor, she the patient. But there was more. A relationship that existed but never existed. A feeling, something burning deep inside me. Some memory I could not recall. She awoke with a smile, her deep blue eyes, strong, intelligent, loving, searched my soul. Hi, I guess I fell asleep while reading. Do you read? I mean for relaxation for what I call "soul rejuvenation". No, I confessed, I am to busy for that. Do you know God? Yes, I said. I know God. I mean do you really know God? Do you speak to God? Ask him for guidance? Well, not really. I really do not have time for that, but I do believe in God. God would like you to talk with him. You need him. You need his guidance in your work. Promise me you will seek him. He is there for you. She smiled and peacefully left to be with God. I wept. I wept not for her. I wept for me S. Beatty/April 09

The Sands of Time

The song goes, "As Time Goes By", but why so fast? Why is it that time goes faster now that I am getting older? As a kid, my summer vacations seemed like they lasted for a couple of years. I used to accomplish more when I was working 50 to 60 hours a week. I feel I was more organized with my work and personal life. Time seems to speed up as I slow down. Like fish in the water, I am so surrounded by time that it is impossible to contemplate. I seem to do less as I age, and looking back there is less to remember and I wonder where the years have disappeared. Looking at it another way, as I grow older, I have already experienced a lot in life and the world around me. There are far fewer novel events that are likely to come my way. I feel I was more creative when I was young and I figured out things as they came. When looking at the past, present, and future, it is very difficult to center in on what is happening right now. As soon as I am aware of the present, it is already in the past. Probably only a span of about five seconds accounts for my sense of being in the moment. The sands of time seem to shift at an ever-accelerating rate.

Main Cause of Failure is Doubt

I believe the biggest reason why I have had bad experience and failures in any area of life is doubt. I doubt when I worry and fear. Worrying causes me to use my imagination and emotion to create something I do not want. Worry and fear is unbelief. My beliefs create reality. Unbelief is actually belief in the oposite of what I desire to create. When conflicting beliefs exit, I sabatoge my reality creation and that is why I fail to manifest what I want. I focus on what I desire only and I do not focus on fear of not getting it. If I believe that something will not work or doubt it, then I am pushing the things I want away from myself. I try visualizing and affirming what I want in my life as that thought of energy goes to work.

The Things I Carry

I carry the remembrance of your eyes The sweet theme of my song Your clear serene green eyes Eyes that have been my inspiration. Those serene green eyes Of serene peaceful sight That left my soul an eternal thirst For divine love. The desire of your caress Of love and tenderness Of all the sweetness That you knew how to offer. Those serene green eyes Serene as a deep river In whose calm waters One day I saw myself. They don't know the sadness That they left in my soul Those serene green eyes I will never see again.

Eulogy - Mine

Eulogizing on one's self is really Agonizing on one's self worth Eulogizing on one's past is really Patronizing one's future Eulogizing one's future is really Harmonizing wth one's past Eulogizing on one's morals is really Publicizing one's sins Writing one's own Eulogy is really Pulverizing one's ego