Sunday, April 15, 2012

Hmm...

http://www.twelvevisionsparty.com/

Just curious if anyone has heard of this. Comment and tell me what you think.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Poe’s Mysterious Death: The Plot Thickens!



Last year, the writer Matthew Pearl published a novel called The Poe Shadow, in which a young lawyer sets out to solve one of the great enduring mysteries of American literary history: What killed Edgar Allan Poe? Like his protagonist, Mr. Pearl was fascinated by the question, which has vexed scholars ever since the great man died in 1849 at the age of 40, in a Baltimore hospital after being discovered, distraught and incoherent, in a local tavern.

Mr. Pearl had wanted to write a novel exploring the mystery. But he never expected to uncover actual evidence that could help solve it.

There are numerous competing theories about Mr. Poe’s death—the Edgar Allan Poe Museum in Richmond, Virginia, even has an exhibit dedicated to all of them. Some Poe experts believe it was the result of drink. Others think he had rabies. A few argue he was poisoned by corrupt political operatives. But Mr. Pearl—a 32-year-old graduate of Harvard College and Yale Law School, whose 2003 debut, the international best seller The Dante Club, prompted Da Vinci Code author Dan Brown to declare him, “the new star of literary fiction”—told The Observer recently that he has unearthed new information that suggests a less sensational answer: Mr. Poe, it seems, may have died of a brain tumor.

The immediate circumstances of Mr. Poe’s death are not in dispute. He had been missing for several days when a man named Snodgrass found him on the night of Oct. 3, 1849, barely conscious and wearing clothes that did not fit, and brought him to Washington College Hospital for treatment. “At the hospital he kind of ranted and raved,” Mr. Pearl said. Three days later, he was dead.

Very little information remains from Mr. Poe’s short hospital stay, and John Moran, the doctor who oversaw his treatment, obscured the record even further by delivering a series of paid lectures many years later in which he retroactively made up all kinds of details about Mr. Poe’s behavior that he hadn’t initially reported.

But one night during the summer of 2006, while sitting in a Midwestern hotel room—he says he can’t remember whether it was in Milwaukee or Iowa City—Mr. Pearl had a revelation. At the time, he was on the road doing readings to promote The Poe Shadow, and fans kept asking him why Mr. Poe’s body could not simply be exhumed from its Baltimore grave and examined so as to settle the matter of his death for good. Each time, Mr. Pearl patiently explained that an exhumation would be impossible, because it would require destroying the large marble monument atop Mr. Poe’s grave, which is one of Baltimore’s most popular tourist sites.

But that night in his hotel room, Mr. Pearl remembered some old newspaper articles that he’d come across, in the archives of the University of Virginia and Baltimore’s Enoch Pratt Free Library, while conducting research for the book. When he went back and looked at them, the articles confirmed that Mr. Poe’s body had been exhumed, 26 years after his death, so that his coffin could be moved to a more prominent place at the front of the cemetery.

More to the point, a few of the articles suggested that the great man’s brain had been visible to onlookers during the procedure.

The first of these was an undated letter to the editor of The Baltimore Gazette, which claimed that “a medical gentleman” had seen “that the brain of the poet Poe, on the opening of his grave … was in an almost perfect state of preservation,” and that “the cerebral mass, as seen through the base of the skull, evidenced no signs of disintegration or decay, though, of course, it is somewhat diminished in size.”

The second was an 1878 article in the St. Louis Republican, noting that “the sexton who attended to the removal of the poet’s body” had lifted the head during the exhumation and reported seeing the brain “[rattling] around inside just like a lump of mud.” The sexton reportedly thought that “the brain had dried and hardened in the skull.”

“What I realized was, if that was the case, it would be the only physical evidence we have of what Poe’s condition was at his time of death,” Mr. Pearl said.

Intrigued, Mr. Pearl asked a coroner for an expert opinion. “I read her the description,” Mr. Pearl said, “and she said, ‘Well, that person is just wrong. Unless you embalm the body, the brain is the first thing to liquefy. There’s no way it would still be there 25 years later.’”

But a tumor, the coroner said, can calcify while the rest of the body decomposes. Perhaps that’s what the witnesses were describing, she suggested. Sure enough, when Mr. Pearl looked up photographs of brain tumors, he saw that some of them really did look like shrunken brains.

Next, Mr. Pearl ran his theory by some experts. One was Hal Poe, a descendant of the writer who serves on the board of the Poe Museum, and who told Pearl that he had “stumbled onto something quite important.” Mr. Pearl then went to Poe scholar James Hutchisson, who had advanced the tumor theory a year earlier in a Poe biography, based on other evidence, including the fact that Dr. Moran initially reported the cause of death as “congestion of the brain.”

Despite the enthusiasm with which experts like Mr. Hutchisson have greeted his findings, Mr. Pearl isn’t claiming to have solved the mystery once and for all. But he’s excited to have found a concrete lead amid the tangle of unsubstantiated theories: “At least [the tumor theory] has some evidence and some trails that you can follow that … It’s not just throwing the word ‘rabies’ out there and thinking, ‘That sounds good!’…I’d hope in this case someone picks up the scent and finds more on this.”

Still, he went on, the case will probably never be closed. “Poe’s death is one of the biggest literary mysteries, period,” Mr. Pearl said. “People don’t grow tired of it. It’s sort of like the J.F.K. assassination.”
                                     






Sunday, April 8, 2012

L.J. Smith vs HarperTeen/ Alloy

It seems that not only is, "The Vampire Diaries", being written by a ghost writer now, that, "The Secret Circle" is also being written by one. I can't believe the author (being young and naive at the time) would sign such a document relinquishing rights to her books. Not to mention, the horrible company (HarperTeen/Alloy) that would fire the author from writing her own series. Funny that they think they could match the authors writing style, with a poor substitute. The ghost writer is nothing like Smith, and I personally find it insulting to the readers.  I have started to read her other series, but not being able to read HER ending to the two series is very maddening. Grrr..  Here's two links about the matter. I hope you find it as unfair as I do.  
Happy reading.  


http://www.ljanesmith.net/www/author/burning-fan-questions

http://www.vampire-diaries.net/books/regarding-l-j-smiths-alleged-firing

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Lord Byron, father of vampires...


WORLD AS MYTH - "The theory that universes are created by the act of imagining them, such that even fictional worlds are real." -Robert A. Heinlein

"...for us physicists believe the separation between past, present, and future is only an illusion, although a convincing one."  -Albert Einstein

Suggested reading: Robert A. Heinlein



Fragment of a Novel
(1816)
by Lord Byron
(1788-1824)

"June 17, 1816.
"In the year 17—, having for some time determined on a journey through countries not hitherto much frequented by travellers, I set out, accompanied by a friend, whom I shall designate by the name of Augustus Darvell. He was a few years my elder, and a man of considerable fortune and ancient family, advantages which an extensive capacity prevented him alike from undervaluing and overrating. Some peculiar circumstances in his private history had rendered him to me an object of attention, of interest, and even of regard, which neither the reserve of his manners, nor occasional indication of an inquietude at times approaching to alienation of mind, could extinguish.
"I was yet young in life, which I had begun early; but my intimacy with him was of a recent date: we had been educated at the same schools and university; but his progress through these had preceded mine, and he had been deeply initiated into what is called the world, while I was yet in my novitiate. While thus engaged, I heard much both of his past and present life; and, although in these accounts there were many and irreconcilable contradictions, I could still gather from the whole that he was a being of no common order, and one who, whatever pains he might take to avoid remark, would still be remarkable. I had cultivated his acquaintance subsequently, and endeavoured to obtain his friendship, but this last appeared to be unattainable: whatever affections he might have possessed seemed now, some to have been extinguished, and others to be concentred: that his feelings were acute, I had sufficient opportunities of observing; for, although he could control, he could not altogether disguise them; still he had a power of giving to one passion the appearance of another, in such a manner that it was difficult to define the nature of what was working within him; and the expressions of his features would vary so rapidly, though slightly, that it was useless to trace them to their sources. It was evident that he was a prey to some cureless disquiet; but whether it arose from ambition, love, remorse, grief, from one or all of these, or merely from a morbid temperament akin to disease, I could not discover: there were circumstances alleged which might have justified the application to each of these causes; but, as I have before said, these were so contradictory and contradicted, that none could be fixed upon with accuracy. Where there is mystery, it is generally supposed that there must also be evil: I know not how this may be, but in him there certainly was the one, though I could not ascertain the extent of the other — and felt loth, as far as regarded himself, to believe in its existence. My advances were received with sufficient coldness: but I was young, and not easily discouraged, and at length succeeded in obtaining, to a certain degree, that common-place intercourse and moderate confidence of common and every-day concerns, created and cemented by similarity of pursuit and frequency of meeting, which is called intimacy, or friendship, according to the ideas of him who uses those words to express them.
"Darvell had already travelled extensively; and to him I had applied for information with regard to the conduct of my intended journey. It was my secret wish that he might be prevailed on to accompany me; it was also a probable hope, founded upon the shadowy restlessness which I observed in him, and to which the animation which he appeared to feel on such subjects, and his apparent indifference to all by which he was more immediately surrounded, gave fresh strength. This wish I first hinted, and then expressed: his answer, though I had partly expected it, gave me all the pleasure of surprise — he consented; and, after the requisite arrangement, we commenced our voyages. After journeying through various countries of the south of Europe, our attention was turned towards the East, according to our original destination; and it was in my progress through these regions that the incident occurred upon which will turn what I may have to relate.
"The constitution of Darvell, which must from his appearance have been in early life more than usually robust, had been for some time gradually giving away, without the intervention of any apparent disease: he had neither cough nor hectic, yet he became daily more enfeebled; his habits were temperate, and he neither declined nor complained of fatigue; yet he was evidently wasting away: he became more and more silent and sleepless, and at length so seriously altered, that my alarm grew proportionate to what I conceived to be his danger.
"We had determined, on our arrival at Smyrna, on an excursion to the ruins of Ephesus and Sardis, from which I endeavoured to dissuade him in his present state of indisposition — but in vain: there appeared to be an oppression on his mind, and a solemnity in his manner, which ill corresponded with his eagerness to proceed on what I regarded as a mere party of pleasure little suited to a valetudinarian; but I opposed him no longer — and in a few days we set off together, accompanied only by a serrugee and a single janizary.
"We had passed halfway towards the remains of Ephesus, leaving behind us the more fertile environs of Smyrna, and were entering upon that wild and tenantless tract through the marshes and defiles which lead to the few huts yet lingering over the broken columns of Diana — the roofless walls of expelled Christianity, and the still more recent but complete desolation of abandoned mosques — when the sudden and rapid illness of my companion obliged us to halt at a Turkish cemetery, the turbaned tombstones of which were the sole indication that human life had ever been a sojourner in this wilderness. The only caravansera we had seen was left some hours behind us, not a vestige of a town or even cottage was within sight or hope, and this 'city of the dead' appeared to be the sole refuge of my unfortunate friend, who seemed on the verge of becoming the last of its inhabitants.
"In this situation, I looked round for a place where he might most conveniently repose: contrary to the usual aspect of Mahometan burial-grounds, the cypresses were in this few in number, and these thinly scattered over its extent; the tombstones were mostly fallen, and worn with age: upon one of the most considerable of these, and beneath one of the most spreading trees, Darvell supported himself, in a half-reclining posture, with great difficulty. He asked for water. I had some doubts of our being able to find any, and prepared to go in search of it with hesitating despondency: but he desired me to remain; and turning to Suleiman, our janizary, who stood by us smoking with great tranquility, he said, 'Suleiman, verbana su,' (i.e. 'bring some water,') and went on describing the spot where it was to be found with great minuteness, at a small well for camels, a few hundred yards to the right: the janizary obeyed. I said to Darvell, 'How did you know this?' He replied, 'From our situation; you must perceive that this place was once inhabited, and could not have been so without springs: I have also been here before.'
" 'You have been here before! How came you never to mention this to me? and what could you be doing in a place where no one would remain a moment longer than they could help it?'
"To this question I received no answer. In the mean time Suleiman returned with the water, leaving the serrugee and the horses at the fountain. The quenching of his thirst had the appearance of reviving him for a moment; and I conceived hopes of his being able to proceed, or at least to return, and I urged the attempt. He was silent — and appeared to be collecting his spirits for an effort to speak. He began —
" 'This is the end of my journey, and of my life; I came here to die; but I have a request to make, a command — for such my last words must be. — You will observe it?'
" 'Most certainly; but I have better hopes.'
" 'I have no hopes, nor wishes, but this — conceal my death from every human being.'
" 'I hope there will be no occasion; that you will recover, and —'
" 'Peace! it must be so: promise this.'
" 'I do.'
" 'Swear it, by all that —' He here dictated an oath of great solemnity.
" 'There is no occasion for this. I will observe your request; and to doubt me is —'
" 'It cannot be helped, you must swear.'
"I took the oath, it appeared to relieve him. He removed a seal ring from his finger, on which were some Arabic characters, and presented it to me. He proceeded —
" 'On the ninth day of the month, at noon precisely (what month you please, but this must be the day), you must fling this ring into the salt springs which run into the Bay of Eleusis; the day after, at the same hour, you must repair to the ruins of the temple of Ceres, and wait one hour.'
" 'Why?'
" 'You will see.'
" 'The ninth day of the month, you say?'
" 'The ninth.'
"As I observed that the present was the ninth day of the month, his countenance changed, and he paused. As he sat, evidently becoming more feeble, a stork, with a snake in her beak, perched upon a tombstone near us; and, without devouring her prey, appeared to be steadfastly regarding us. I know not what impelled me to drive it away, but the attempt was useless; she made a few circles in the air, and returned exactly to the same spot. Darvell pointed to it, and smiled — he spoke — I know not whether to himself or to me — but the words were only, 'Tis well!'
" 'What is well? What do you mean?'
" 'No matter; you must bury me here this evening, and exactly where that bird is now perched. You know the rest of my injunctions.'
"He then proceeded to give me several directions as to the manner in which his death might be best concealed. After these were finished, he exclaimed, 'You perceive that bird?'
" 'Certainly.'
" 'And the serpent writhing in her beak?'
" 'Doubtless: there is nothing uncommon in it; it is her natural prey. But it is odd that she does not devour it.'
"He smiled in a ghastly manner, and said faintly. 'It is not yet time!' As he spoke, the stork flew away. My eyes followed it for a moment — it could hardly be longer than ten might be counted. I felt Darvell's weight, as it were, increase upon my shoulder, and, turning to look upon his face, perceived that he was dead!
"I was shocked with the sudden certainty which could not be mistaken — his countenance in a few minutes became nearly black. I should have attributed so rapid a change to poison, had I not been aware that he had no opportunity of receiving it unperceived. The day was declining, the body was rapidly altering, and nothing remained but to fulfil his request. With the aid of Suleiman's ataghan and my own sabre, we scooped a shallow grave upon the spot which Darvell had indicated: the earth easily gave way, having already received some Mahometan tenant. We dug as deeply as the time permitted us, and throwing the dry earth upon all that remained of the singular being so lately departed, we cut a few sods of greener turf from the less withered soil around us, and laid them upon his sepulchre.
"Between astonishment and grief, I was tearless."

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Gospel of Thomas

One of the discoveries with the Nag Hammadi library. Very interesting to read..  Comprised of saying of Jesus.
Gives an alternative point of view of early Christians.  
Here's a copy online..  I'm not sure of the translation, but it is wonderful to read.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/chr/thomas.htm

Super Foods.. You'll Be Thankful When Ur Older




Summary: