In praise of the printed book: the value of concentration in the digital age

BEYOND BELIEF - non-fiction

My Secret Life Inside Scientology and My Harrowing Escape
Jenna Miscaviage Hill with Lisa Pulitzer

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
"I would like to dedicate this book to my many good friends who
are still in the Church.

I love and miss you all and I truly hope you someday have to the courage
to stand up for yourselves and get the change to leave and really live
your life.

You all deserve so much better."
____________________________

2013 / Harper/Collins Publishers

Other books by Allan Zullo and Maria Bovsun:

THE GREATEST SURVIVOR STORIES NEVER TOLD

THE GREATEST FIREFIGHTER STORIES NEVER TOLD

ASTONISHING BUT TRUE FISHING TALES

Other books by Allan Zullo:

A BOOMER'S GUIDE TO GRANDPARENTING

THE SMILE HIGH CLUB

NEWS ITEMS

Strange But True Cat Tales

Allan Zullo and Maria Bovsun 2005

THE COBRA EVENT - Richard Preson (fiction based on FACT)
1997
This book is basically about germ warfare or what is now called
biological warfare. Gripping and a page-turner, I couldn't put it down.
Hair-raising in what the U.S. and Russians have relentlessly kept at
to this very day.

'Meticuously reserached and as timely as today's headlines. Shows
Prescott's flair for making epidemiological sleuthing as suspenseful as
any detective story.' Rave Reviews

FROM CHOCOLATE TO MORPHINE: Everything You Need to Know About
Mind-Altering Drugs by Andrew Weil, M.D. & Winifred Rosen

'An essential guide, authoritive source book on drugs and drug us, now
revised and updated.'
' Extensively illustrated, supplemented by helpful comments from drug
users and nonusers, From Chocolate to Morphine is a unique resource.
This clear-headed, authoritative books is now more valuable than ever.'

Dr. Andrew Weil, a Harvard-trained physician, is the author of several
books, most recently Natural Health. He lives in Tucson, Arizon.

Winifred Rose is the author of many boos for children and young
adults. She resides in East Hampton, New York.

NON-FICTION - Thhe Dog Who Rescues Cats: The True Story About Ginny
1995 by Phillip Gonzalez / Introduction by Cleveland Armory

(Cleveland Armory is an author who wrote true stories: "The Cat Who
Came for Christmas", "The Cat and the Curmudgeon", "The Cat Who
Disappeared One Christmas", etc.)

On the above book about Ginny: "Ginny has the most appealing face,
bright, intelligent and curious and sweet, all at the same time. And
something else shone from her face, something I had no words for then,
but would come to know as deep wisdom, enormous kindness, and
generosity of spirit. Under her fluffy white eyebrows, she had a pair of
eyes that would melt a rock, eyes that were sympathetic, merry and
knowing. Just one look was all it took. 'You're going to be MY dog",
I thought."

'One recognizes that with the first paragraph that The Dog Who Rescues
Cats, is a true story, and I grew to love Ginny more and more as I
turned each page. It is truly an extraordinary story - - Ginny has been
directed by some spirit from another world to do the wonderful job she
does. I simply could not put the book down from the minute I had it in my
hands until I finished it." ~ ~ Brooke Astor

NON-FICTION: The Blessing of the Animals: True Stories of Ginny, the Dog Who
Rescues Cats
by American veteran Philip Gonzalez, 1996

"There is an angel living in Long Island.... the beauty of Ginny's rescues is that
each is directed toward an animal desperatetely in need - - disabled, neglected,
abused, or on the narrow edge of survival.

"A true, heart-warming story about a dog who her own owner a new lease on
life and taught him how to love again ... which each 'rescue' of a a cat is need.
Endearing and unforgettable."

northernexpat: What is considered obsolete and obliterated? I just went
back on this string and saw your post; couldn't figure what you were
referring to.

COBRA EVENT - Richard Preston 1997
This book scared the living daylights outta me. Manages to grab ya with
the authtenticity of its scientific detective work and haunt you with its sheer
plausibility.

Richard Preston is also the author of: The Hot Zone, The Demon in the
Freezer, American Steel, and First Light. By now, who knows what else?

The last book I finished is one of the best I've ever read. It's called Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts. Here's a bit of his bio: "Gregory David Roberts was born in Melbourne, Australia. Sentenced to nineteen years in prison for a series of armed robberies, he escaped and spent ten of his fugitive years in Bombay, where he established a free medical clinic for slum-dwellers, and worked as a counterfeiter, smuggler, gunrunner and street soldier for a branch of the Bombay mafia. Recaptured, he served out his sentence. He is now a full-time writer and lives in Bombay.

The book, although termed a novel, is largely autobiographical and presents a captivating look at life in India. One of the reviews: "A novel of the first order, a work of extraordinary art, a thing of exceptional beauty." - Pat Conroy

This Compost

by Walt Whitman

1

Something startles me where I thought I was safest,
I withdraw from the still woods I loved,
I will not go now on the pastures to walk,
I will not strip the clothes from my body to meet my lover the sea,
I will not touch my flesh to the earth as to other flesh to renew me.

O how can it be that the ground itself does not sicken?
How can you be alive you growths of spring?
How can you furnish health you blood of herbs, roots, orchards, grain?
Are they not continually putting distemper'd corpses within you?
Is not every continent work'd over and over with sour dead?

Where have you disposed of their carcasses?
Those drunkards and gluttons of so many generations?
Where have you drawn off all the foul liquid and meat?
I do not see any of it upon you to-day, or perhaps I am deceiv'd,
I will run a furrow with my plough, I will press my spade through
the sod and turn it up underneath,
I am sure I shall expose some of the foul meat.

2

Behold this compost! behold it well!
Perhaps every mite has once form'd part of a sick person--yet behold!
The grass of spring covers the prairies,
The bean bursts noiselessly through the mould in the garden,
The delicate spear of the onion pierces upward,
The apple-buds cluster together on the apple-branches,
The resurrection of the wheat appears with pale visage out of its graves,
The tinge awakes over the willow-tree and the mulberry-tree,
The he-birds carol mornings and evenings while the she-birds sit on
their nests,
The young of poultry break through the hatch'd eggs,
The new-born of animals appear, the calf is dropt from the cow, the
colt from the mare,
Out of its little hill faithfully rise the potato's dark green leaves,
Out of its hill rises the yellow maize-stalk, the lilacs bloom in
the dooryards,
The summer growth is innocent and disdainful above all those strata
of sour dead.

What chemistry!
That the winds are really not infectious,
That this is no cheat, this transparent green-wash of the sea which
is so amorous after me,
That it is safe to allow it to lick my naked body all over with its tongues,
That it will not endanger me with the fevers that have deposited
themselves in it,
That all is clean forever and forever,
That the cool drink from the well tastes so good,
That blackberries are so flavorous and juicy,
That the fruits of the apple-orchard and the orange-orchard, that
melons, grapes, peaches, plums, will none of them poison me,
That when I recline on the grass I do not catch any disease,
Though probably every spear of grass rises out of what was once
catching disease.

Now I am terrified at the Earth, it is that calm and patient,
It grows such sweet things out of such corruptions,
It turns harmless and stainless on its axis, with such endless
successions of diseas'd corpses,
It distills such exquisite winds out of such infused fetor,
It renews with such unwitting looks its prodigal, annual, sumptuous crops,
It gives such divine materials to men, and accepts such leavings
from them at last.

I'd like to thank everyone for the thought-provoking, mind-blowing comments!
In my three years at Current I have never experienced so many heartfelt responses.

I love books.

I think I would rather turn and live with animals;

They are so placid and self-contained. Walt Whitman

Arthur Conan Doyle
The Final Problem

"'You evidently don't know me,' said he.

"'On the contrary,' I answered, 'I think it is fairly evident that I do. Pray take a chair. I can spare you five minutes if you have anything to say.'

"'All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,' said he.

"'Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I replied.

"'You stand fast?'

"'Absolutely.'

"He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I raised the pistol from the table. But he merely drew out a memorandum-book in which he had scribbled some dates.

"'You crossed my patch on the 4th of January,' said he. 'On the 23d you incommoded me; by the middle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.'

"'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked.

"'You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying his face about. 'You really must, you know.'

"'After Monday,' said I.

"'Tut, tut,' said he. 'I am quite sure that a man of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure. You smile, sir, but I assure you that it really would.'

"'Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked.

"'That is not danger,' said he. 'It is inevitable destruction. You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a mighty organization, the full extent of which you, with all your cleverness, have been unable to realize. You must stand clear, Mr. Holmes, or be trodden under foot.'

"'I am afraid,' said I, rising, 'that in the pleasure of this conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits me elsewhere.'

"He rose also and looked at me in silence, shaking his head sadly.

"'Well, well,' said he, at last. 'It seems a pity, but I have done what I could. I know every move of your game. You can do nothing before Monday. It has been a duel between you and me, Mr. Holmes. You hope to place me in the dock. I tell you that I will never stand in the dock. You hope to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me. If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall do as much to you.'

"'You have paid me several compliments, Mr. Moriarty,' said I. 'Let me pay you one in return when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality I would, in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter.'

"'I can promise you the one, but not the other,' he snarled, and so turned his rounded back upon me, and went peering and blinking out of the room.

DARKNESS * *******************> Charles Bukowski
(always wrote in small case)

darkness falls upon Humanity
and faces become terrible
things
that wanted more than there
was.

all our days are marked with
unexpected
affronts - - some
disasterous, others
less so
but the process is
wearing and
continuous,
attrition rules.
most give
way
leaving empty spaces
where people should be.

our progenitors, our
educational systems, the
land, the media, the
way
have deluded and misled the
masses' they have been
defeated
by the aridity of
the actual
dream.

they were
unaware that
achievement or victory or
luck or
whatever the hell you
want to call
it
must have
its defeats.

it's only the regathering and
going-on
which lends substance
to whatever magic
might probably evolve.

and now
as we ready to self-destruct
there is very little left to
kill

which makes the tragedy
less and more
much much
more.

Dorothy Parker (1893-1967)
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.

Résumé

MISHIMA, where are you? I can't find your one post I've seen so far,
but I was meaning to ask ya, it might be your partiality, but do you have
any particularly favorite Haiku?

" The fog comes on little cat feet."
~ ~ Carl Sanburg

ALONE was one of my favorite Edgar Allen Poe's poems, but there
are a few others, of course, The Raven,
Annabel Lee
The Bells The City in the Sea
Dreamland

ALONE

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were, I have not seen
As others saw, I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could awaken
My heart, at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.

Then in my childhood, in the dawn,
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still.
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In the autumn tint of gold,
From the lightening in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

- - Edgar Allen Poe

How Do I Love Thee?
a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

“There is no character, howsoever good and fine, but it can be destroyed by ridicule, howsoever poor and witless. Observe the ass, for instance: his character is about perfect, he is the choicest spirit among all the humbler animals, yet see what ridicule has brought him to. Instead of feeling complimented when we are called an ass, we are left in doubt.”

― Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson

I used to devour books, my place is filled with books. My problem is that it is getting harder and harder to read books - fonts too small most of the time.

"What Dreams May Come" - Richard Matheson, 1978
A love that transcends heaven and hell.

Later adapted to the screen, main character, big star Robin Williams,

Cuba Gooding, Jr., Max Von Sydow, Annabella Sciorra, Werner Herzog,
and on and far into the night.

Obijwe Indian Tales - illustrations by Charles Poterbowski.

Still have the original black and white Beardsleys-esque' photo takes pre
publication cuz I took the takes.......

Take wings to climb the zenith,
Or sleep in Fields of Peace;
By day the Sun shall keep thee,
By night the rising Star.

The Eygptian Book of the Dead
translated by Robert Hillyer

Just After Sunset - Stephen King - Stories , 2008

Stephen King has written more than 40 novels and 200 hundred short
stories. He is the recipient of the 2003 National Book Foundation Medal
for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters and the Canadian
Booksellers Association Libris Award for Lifetime Achivement.
In 2007, he was inducted as a Grand Master of the Mysterys of America.
King has also received the O.Henry Award for his story, "The Man in the
Black Suit," and he is the editor of the Best American Short Stories 2007.

Among his most recent worldwide bestsellers are Duma Key,

Lisey's Story, Cell, the Dark Tower series, On Writing, The Green Mile,
and Bag of Bones. and Thinner.

He lives in Bangor, Maine, with his wife, Tabitha King and has two
grown sons and a daughter.

Milwaukee Ghosts - Sherry Straub

Sherry Straub is a publsihed book author, novelist,, and screenwriter with

a passion for the paranormal. She and husband live by a small lake in

central Wisconsin