The Good American Sniper by Frank Thomas Smith
Taylor and I met in unusual circumstances. He had just lobbed a
grenade into a bunker overlooking the Normandy beach but it was a dud
so a kraut stuck his head out and saw Taylor huddled below with his
eyes closed waiting for the blast. He aimed at Taylor with a pistol
so I stood up and shot him from thirty yards away. The M1 rifle was a
heavy unwieldy piece, but accurate as hell. When the German fell on
top of him, Sgt Taylor saw me, realized what had happened and lobbed
a second grenade into the bunker. It exploded so if there was anyone
still inside they were meat. Then he rolled down the embankment
towards me while I kept him covered just in case.
he said. I saw the stripes painted on his helmet, all six of them.
“What's your company?” he yelled. “Able,” I
yelled back. “Things got pretty screwed up on the beach. Guess
I better see if I can find them.” I started to walk off in the
half crouch everyone used.
Strangle the Parrot! by Jerry Mullins
Well, it was just about
the biggest excitement this little town seen lately, that business
about that damned parrot going and insulting people all over the
place. Now sit here with me a minute and I’ll tell you about
it. George the barber got
this thing, this parrot, from God only knows where, maybe on one of
his trips to Charleston or Pittsburgh or one of those big towns he
always talks about going to for what he calls a little fun, but ends
up half-complaining and half-bragging about getting rolled by some
lady of the evening as we will say it and losing all his money and
coming back broke. But that is another story for another time and I
will try not to get off track here any more than I usually do. So
anyway, George brings back this parrot and puts him in the corner of
his shop right there next to the window to the street...
Waiting for Love in Munich by Victorino Cristito Briones
In July 2010, Jacob
waited by the lake in Seefeld for Carla. They had agreed to meet at nine, but
it was almost midnight. He looked at his watch and then checked messages in his
phone. Nothing. He waited until 6 a.m., then gave up and drove back to Munich,
resigned to the reality that she was not going to go away with him. He sent
Carla a text message: “Tell me you’re all right.” He didn’t ask why she had
changed her mind. That was how they had agreed to play it — no regrets or
No Road to Inverness
by Gaither Stewart
Via Nazionale. The
taxi battles its way up the steep avenue in the precarious right lane reserved
for public vehicles. Blinding sunlight; afternoon traffic intense; their one
lane in pitiful opposition to the mass of cars and buses careening chaotically
downhill over the rest of the wide cobblestone avenue, ignoring the tight line
of buses, taxis and official cars creeping warily against the current. During
any interruption in the flow, a flood of downhill vehicles darts into the puny
uphill lane and with difficulty returns to the downhill track. Their drivers
scream uninterrupted curses at the traffic pirates speeding straight at them: “Mortacci
tua figlio di puttana porca madonna che testa di cazzo.” Catch up with the
bus ahead and dart back into its trail of black fumes. From behind them infuriated
bus drivers accelerate and flash headlights pale in the afternoon sunshine and vainly
honk their high decibel horns...
The Red-headed Pizza by Frank Thomas Smith
Romano, the red-headed pizza-parlor man, has already made at least a hundred pizzas this afternoon. Customers love his pizzas because of the technique he learned in Italy and his artistic touches. In Romano's opinion, a well-made pizza is a work of art. But today he has so much work that he makes one pizza after another almost automatically: cheese, napolitana, onion, salami etc., large, small and medium.
"One large cheese!" the waiter calls.
"Always the same," Romano sighs.
When he finishes shaping the dough and putting on the cheese and tomato sauce, he stops a moment, smiles, and instead of putting the olives any which way, he carefully places two of them at the same height. Then he puts another a bit lower between the first two. He cuts a piece of red pepper and places it below the third olive forming a smile on the face he has drawn on the pizza. Finally, he puts on two pieces of red pepper for the ears and a generous spoonful of tomato sauce over the forehead. He observes his work, laughs out loud and says, "Welcome, red-headed pizza," and places it in the oven with the long-handled, wooden shovel that pizza-makers use...
La Pizza Pelirroja
Romano, el pizzero pelirrojo, ya había hecho por lo menos cien pizzas aquel mediodía. A la gente le gustan mucho sus pizzas, por la técnica que ha aprendido en Italia y debido a sus toques artísticos. En opinión de Romano, una pizza bien hecha es un obra de arte. Pero hoy tiene tanto trabajo que hace una pizza después de la otra casi automáticamente: muzarella, napolitana, humita, etc., grandes, chicas, con y sin fainá.
--¡Muzarella grande! --grita el mozo.
--Otra vez la misma --suspira Romano...
What Happens After Judgement Day by Joel A Wendt
In the dark of the night, when your back hurts (level 11.5 on a scale of
1 to 10), and you are waiting for the drugs (acetaminophen and
oxycodone) to kick in, and after the battery-is-empty-alarm has gone
off on the smoke detector, and you can't pry the damn thing of the
wall, yet the only thing that works is a prayer to your recently
deceased girl friend's mother who does manage to make the alarm
behave and shut up (thank heaven for ghosts who like you), it's
probably not a good idea to take out your credit card and go
to Amazon.com looking to see what Peter Hamilton, William Gibson, and Richard Morgan have
been up to...
SCR Church Bulletins for Dummies by Anonymous
Belch, a missionary from Africa, will be speaking tonight at Calvary Methodist.
Come hear Bertha Belch all the way from Africa.
2. Announcement in a church bulletin for a
national PRAYER & FASTING Conference: "The cost for attending the
Fasting & Prayer Conference includes meals."
3. The sermon this morning: "Jesus
Walks on the Water."
The sermon tonight: "Searching for Jesus."
4. Our youth basketball team is back in
action Wednesday at 8 PM in the recreation hall — Come out and watch us kill
Christ the King.
5. Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale.
It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house.
Don't forget your husbands...
Is This Country [the U.S.] Crazy? by Ann Jones
Americans who live abroad
-- more than six
million of us worldwide (not counting those who work for the U.S.
government) -- often face hard questions about our country from
people we live among. Europeans, Asians, and Africans ask us to
explain everything that baffles them about the increasingly odd and
troubling conduct of the United States. Polite people, normally
reluctant to risk offending a guest, complain that America’s
trigger-happiness, cutthroat free-marketeering, and “exceptionality”
have gone on for too long to be considered just an adolescent phase.
Which means that we Americans abroad are regularly asked to account
for the behavior of our rebranded “homeland,” now
conspicuously in decline
and increasingly out
of step with the rest of the world...Continue reading
Important Reformation and Its Consequences for a Renaissance by Nathaniel Williams
I would like
to state that my intention with this article is to present in brief, simple, and
clear terms some issues that I find deserve heightened attention within the
Anthroposophical Society. I have been involved in the Class and various circles
of responsibility within the Society and School, and I have found it necessary
to resign from one position and decline another. My conscience demanded that I
share my reasons, and this essay is the result. I am writing both for those who
are unfamiliar with the Society’s history and structure and for those who are
very familiar with it... Continue reading
"Apologia" concerning the publication of the the First Class Lessons: Apologia
Lessons for the First Class of the School for Spiritual Science at
the Goetheanum - Volume Three, Lesson six (Recapitulation) by Rudolf Steiner
My dear sisters and brothers, the description of the spiritual path
which leads from the sunny, light-filled world in which we live on earth
appears on the other side of the yawning abyss of being at first as a gloomy,
night-cloaked darkness. The path which leads us to where we become aware that,
when we seek our own being in all that lives in the depths, flows in the air, all
that creeps and flies, in all that our senses perceive in the majestic glow of
the stars, in the powerful depths of universal space, in the immeasurably
distant flow of time, that all that does not contain our being, the true source
of our humanity, that it becomes gloomy when we look here for our humanity.
The Johannine Question - From Fichte to Steiner by David W. Wood
of the central concerns of the following text is to stimulate further
reflections on how to make the field of Steiner studies more
scientific. In an essay from two years ago I put forward a plaidoyer for a
historical-critical approach to the work of Rudolf Steiner.
That is to say, I defended an approach to Steiner research that is
not merely historical and critical in some kind of vague theory, but
one that actively strives to adhere to this approach in
by taking into account the relevant historical documents and
critically examining all the respective arguments. The present text
is a companion piece to that essay: it is a plaidoyer for a close textual
reading of Rudolf Steiner’s works in practice too.
Karmic Relations, Volume III, Lecture Three by Rudolf Steiner
We have seen how the study
of karma, wherein the destiny of man is contained, leads us from
the affairs of the farthest universe — from the worlds of
the stars — down to the tenderest experiences of the human
heart, inasmuch as the heart is an expression of all that man
feels working upon him during life, — of all that happens
to him in the whole nexus of earth-existence. When we try to
arrive at our judgments through a deeper understanding of the
karmic connections, we are driven again and again to look into
these two domains of world-existence which lie so far removed
from one another. Indeed we must say: Whatever else we may be
studying, — be it Nature, or the more natural configuration
of human evolution in history or in the life of nations —
none of these leads us so high up into cosmic realms as the study
The Southern Cross by Frank Thomas Smith
the gaucho gallops through
The pampa's waving windswept grasses;
From time to time he strokes his beard,
Black as the eyes of the country's lasses.
Orion patiently makes its rounds,
Dripping dust in the River Plate,
While over the rancho, his destination,
The Southern Cross guards the gate.
I Died for Beauty - and other poems by Emily Dickenson
I died for beauty - but was scarce
Adjusted in the Tomb
When One who died for Truth, was lain
In adjoining Room.
He questioned softly ‘Why I failed’ ?
‘For Beauty’ I replied -
‘And I - for Truth - Themself are One -
We Brethren, are’ - He said -
You can find us under the
Southern Cross constellation in the Traslasierra Valley, Province of Córdoba, Argentina. Visitors always welcome. Just follow the sign that reads: La Cruz del Sur.
Frank Thomas Smith, Editor
JoAnn Schwarz, Associate Editor
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