richardmurray

The Perihelion occurs between January 1st and January 5th , The perihelion is the moment in the path the Earth make about the Sun ,elliptical orbit, where the Earth's position is closest to the sun. The Aphelion in June/July is when the earth is farthest away. Please provide any art or text concerning a sun coming closer, and don't try the twilight zone episode. EXPLANATION https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/607-perihelion-aphelion-explanation/ photo citation https://www.flickr.com/photos/benheine/31614749540/

MLK jr was born January 15th 1929 on a tuesday but the celebration is on the third monday of janaury by the uniform monday holiday act [ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uniform_Monday_Holiday_Act ] His actual birthday is the fifteenth of january but the federal holiday is in a monday for three day weekends, like others. It is celebrated on the third monday in the month of january in every year since its inception in the Statian Empire. I ask you to share , historical fictions/prose/graphical artwork in any style concerning MArtin Luther King jr....I do wonder why Blacks in the U.S.A. can not come together and demand a true day off for this federal notice. And also share, officials days in a country outside the usa for a black person in history? In Amendment Why the holiday is on his the third monday and not his true birthday? https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uniform_Monday_Holiday_Act MLK jr's views on Financial Accountability https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnKP__N7MNI MY 2020 speech https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/194-richard-murray-creative-table/page/7/?tab=comments#comment-820 MLK jr on Movies that Move We [ https://aalbc.com/tc/profile/6477-richardmurray/?status=1785&type=status ] ON FINANCIAL ACCOUNTABILITY MY PROSE MLK jr day 1/20/2020 Many presented videos or text concerning M.L.K. junior today, the twentieth of January. As a point of note, Martin Luther King junior's birthday is on the fifteenth of January, not the third Monday of every January. I am not interested in trying to rewrite the legend of MLK junior. MLK junior like most other historical figures in the USA was made legend after doing legendary things by others, not themselves, by those with agenda. It is more important to change the message in current media than to try to change the influence of past media using current media. My issue is ownership. Martin Luther King junior, asked a simple thing to the black statian, the black community in the USA. Do not use the ways of whites on the path to ownership. It may sound simple but, it is not, historically the ways of whites have never been undone concerning ownership. Comprehend a simple historical fact. People of white European, white is a phenotypical label while European is a geographic, descent are not the majority owners in the united states of america based on positive merit, or decency, or any positive angle. Every inch of land in the u.s.a. today is owned or controlled by the u.s.a. government, itself ranked mostly with whites, or in private white ownership, through various transfers after it was originally taken by killing native americans. Absent land how many firms will exist in the USA? What will the banks or the agricultural firms be in the u.s.a absent slavery? For all the technological modifications by usa based agricultural firms or investments in Silicon Valley in the stock markets, where will any bank or agricultural firm be in the usa without their original fiscal activities involving slaveholders accounts or slave labor for growing produce. Notice I did not refer to an individual person. I am speaking to the white community. The white community in the usa used negative means to become owners and then become financially successful owners. Martin Luther King junior spoke to Black people, grow, be strong, become owners of your own community and beyond; but don't kill another for their land, don't take another person's land, don't enslave another, do not do for yourself, your bloodline, your community by harming others. This is the reality of ownership in the u.s.a. White people help themselves, their community, built on their forebears originally harming others or themselves continuing to harm others. Martin Luther King Junior did not want black people to develop a negative character, a negative legacy, to be unmerited while trying to help their own. He asked a very challenging thing. Martin Luther King junior once said, it is a crude jest to tell a bootless man to lift himself up by his bootstraps. But he also felt the bootless man should not lessen his character by stealing another man's boots. He felt the bootless man should be strong enough to merit his boots through craft, labor, or another's kindness. As a black kid growing up, in a black community, incorrectly labeled but widely labeled, the black mecca, I realized how little the black community in Harlem owned. And in parallel, I knew how much various white communities in New york city owned, more importantly how they owned them. What would the Irish or Italian or white Jewish communities be in new york city absent their mobs, correctly glorified in constant movies. It was the white jewish, italian or irish mobs, the gangsters, the rum runners, the extortionists, the thieves, that had a largest or initial role in the development of ownership in those communities in New York city. I end, with a simple truth, the Black community in Harlem, a cultural district in Manhattan in new york city in new york state, in the united states of america, owns little to nothing in Harlem, yesterday or today. The history of the u.s.a. proves all ownership in the u.s.a. comes from those who were willing to negatively, or through negative actions, earn it. MLK junior asked black people to reject that historical truth, even when we own so little. If the Black statian can keep that hope of MLK jr. alive and one day exist in a u.s.a. where Black people own more than all others, or at least enough to not need another community. It will be a testament to MLK junior’s faith. And make the Black community have a pride, worth more than all the years whites owned far more. https://youtu.be/RnKP__N7MNI Poetry or more audiobook series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry or More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 MLK jr on Movies that Move We Movies that Move WE- Selma MY COMMENT odd that this year, MLK jr day is the same time as Marcus Garvey's birthday.. I think the contrast between marcus garvey's long term vision as opposed to the long term vision of MLKjr or his predecessors, WEB DUbois when young or earlier Frederick DOuglass , concerning the relationship of blacks in the americas americas to whites in the americas. Now to the video... 6:40 yes, MLK jr was not a fool about being an advocate . He knew it wasn't financially grand nor had a great chance of true success. But, the identity of a christian baptist preacher was important to regaling. 8:04 yes, black businesses had a huge role in financing the civil rights movement of the 1960s, I wonder if they got their money's worth 9:01 black christian women have always been the backbone or the administration or communal arrangement of the black church. 9:32 My home had people who were at the march on washington. I concur to Nicole, having people who were in the home who experienced the history is key, but only truly matters if they convey it 11:10 yes Nicole , the disconnect is the communities fault. Every community in the usa, from the embattled native american to the afghanistani's from the iraq war have to teach who they are to their children and all who fail to get the proper results 14:14 good point, Nike, the illusion that the past is so far from the present. Like the racial is so far from the post racial 15:35 good dialog, Nicole/Nike about the progression of black history in the usa and how the black community has changed very fast while also very irratically for various reasons 16:47 You two offer the question many have asked before and many will ask after... how did the black community not maintain a highly serious collective tone from circa 1850 to circa 2022 ? 19:47 Nicole, urgency from whom? How many black people, who are in elected office, are millionaires, feel the sense for urgency seriously? they all will say urgency is needed. but, how many truly feel that? 26:41 MLK jr is a legendary speaker, funny how Malcolm is also the son of a preacher man 27:55 the last speech from mlk jr in harlem was at the riverside church, which has the largest carillon in the world https://www.democracynow.org/2022/1/17/mlk_day_special_2022#:~:text=We play his “Beyond Vietnam” speech%2C which he,Copy may not be in its final form. where do we go from here https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/where-do-we-go-here 29:35 yes, but history books in mass education generally soften history. Histories details are by default, not a quick thing. Histories details, show how jews helped the naziz. How hong kong was the epicenter of domination by the united kingdom over the entirety of china. Histories details, show the good or supposed innocent are not that good or innocent, how the bad or supposed hellish are not that sinful or devious. In conclusion, you two made a lovely dialog, but I will suggest you made one potent absence. All to often, black people say, what are we not doing? but answer in your own way, what do we need to do? I know a number of black men who went to the million man march and the reality is, black men showed up to what the black organizers had planned, but the black organizers had no plan whatsoever? Black men came from around the usa to be guided with functionality or purpose not words or chastizement. I will give an example, if a million black men came together, and asked me what to do. I can suggest, make a credit union. Each man who is here put a dollar into a collection and give each man a vote over how the money is used. Is it a brilliant plan? no. It is very simple. but it is function/purpose. It isn't a "do good fellas" speech. What do you two black women want black people to do specifically, name one thing? A last point, Haile Sellasie offered land before his ousting by the communist party of ethiopia , only a third of it was given by the communist government of ethiopia , but it went to rastafarians, who grabbed the opportunity. I am doing research to see how the black people of HArlem Selassie had originally offered the land did not know, reject it or failed interest while black people from jamaica jumped on it. The town is called Shashamane. 1/15/2026 hmmm @Pioneer1 first thank you for stating where you think he went wrong. of the three comments your the only one which means 33% I ponder how many black people are unwilling to question the likes of mlk jr in 2026 ? I have no way of getting a statistic but by this simple post the potential is frightening. I know I haven't spoken on your judgment but it's funny in this community we can bicker with each other so easily and then some of us in here can't speak a judgement against dead leaders. It is a revealing balance. Now you said you loved MLK jr so your critiques are not condemnations. Just assessments all should have in the future to any past. now to your critiques, Well what leaders talked before mlkjr talked about empowered separation? they were the exodusters[based on collective land ownership to make base black towns first, not black people owning land in white towns]+ the garveyites[based on business ownership initially, then geographic distance{far east asia is the farthest from western europe so the garveyites had a point about distance}]+booker t washington[black colleges which were extensions of the black education movement immediately started at the end of the war between the states] MLK jr was born in 1929. By 1929 all the strongest empowered separation movements in the black populace had lost much of their momentum. None died, arguably none are dead, but their momentum wasn't what it was in the late 1800s. So MLK jr didn't have a reference growing up of empowered separation. The only reference he had was integration in various forms. From atlanta, to morehouse, to the greater georgia integration was the system about him. Could he had focused on empowered separation ? 100% yes. Would it been a bad choice? no idea, but it could had succeeded. Was an example around to compel him? no. He needed a successful example. MLK jr like most leaders is thoughtful. The reason something isn't present isn't because it can't work but because it will take more time or more effort to do. The usa government has a very big problem in terms of federal application, in equal access and opportunity. The power of states rights. It is the year 2026 and Schrumpt is the first president after circa two hundred and fifty years to try and actually impose the federal government on the states with the resources to actually do something. Not merely cause of federal power but states in the usa are lower than they are ever been, all are welfare recipients. the original idea was states would never need the federal government. Andrew jackson, Abraham Lincoln, even FDR for all of their fervor, didn't have the means to actually make a federal imposition on the states like Schrumpft today. What does this mean? states got away with a lot of federal crimes within themselves, because the constitution clearly gives states freedom to be themselves and forces citizens to take a state to court for changes. This is why white people burned black people out of the south, because by deleting our voting power, it meant we couldn't use the vote to change the states, we could only use the legal system which is very slow compared to a state wide elections. The constitution is clear, states are not to be ruled by the federal government, which means what. If you are black in mississippi, and white people have raped your wife, burned your children, put your elders in jail without due process or with laws that are uneven in design. If all the actions are finalized within the legal designs of the state of mississippi, you can only take missisppi to court over each action toward the supreme court. That is the only nonviolent solution in the usa for any person from a populace with a minority in a state. The black populace in misssisippi doesn't have the numbers to push people into government and get laws to support it by MLK jr's time. MLK jr was a pastor, third generation, of a black church. No black christian congregation in the 1900s would accept preaching about collective violence. Protecting oneself? 100% but being in a violent mob? no. So what your suggesting was doable by him, but he would had to stop being a preacher to do that. Because nonviolence in the usa means taking whomever your suing to the supreme court,a very lengthy process , one that is not guaranteed to get to the surpreme court, and one most importantly, that doesn't necessarily stop the person/entity being sued from continuing their actions. While the said black man in mississippi is suing, white people are harassing or worse constantly. Your top down is doable, but It isn't impossible. The NAACP was full of lawyers for that reason; their strategy was take every federal crime at the state levels to the supreme court. But so many crimes at the state level occurred. The volume was i argue insurmountable. MLK jr didn't spend enough time on the heritage/what is carried + culture/what is grown of DOSers. He clearly comprehended the importance, ala his plea to Nichelle Nichols. As an aside , I ponder your thoughts on the larger black church? from circa 1865 to 1965 arguably, the black churches in the usa, all denominations combined, are the center of black life. What hindered the churches from focusing on heritage+ culture? Chruches financed lawyers, got food together, helped make shelter, churches did many things, communally, but when it came to emboldening DOS heritage + culture they didn't do much. They didn't even make a book of negro spirituals standard in every black christians pocket. Cause, the negro spirituals is the earliest and purest black DOS christian liturgy or public work. Before black descended of enslaved christians had the bible they had negro spirituals. Great point here. Your second part slightly answers the last segment of the first. I argue that MLK jr and others , many others, wanted the culturee of the black descended of enslaved populace to be as shepards to a better usa for all peoples, this goes back to frederick douglass and the 1800s black church. they knew the heritage was of a people who survived white terror but I think their culture was as a people who made the integrated future nonviolently. and thus by 2026 would become the heritage. Which arguably it has. IF you look at media, most non blacks in the usa view black people as the integrators in the usa. More than anyone else. They made that choice. And it even has precedent. Remember, the first three black tribes when the usa was founded were: the enslaved black folks who are chained while whites in the usa are gaining freedom circa 85%,the black freemen who are trying to stop the usa, with the promise of freedom, which oddly enough, most of them get even though england lost circa 10%, and then the black separatist, fighting alongside whites who publicly supported black enslavement to whites, who would circa 90% be reenslaved at the end of the war. The black separatist were circa 5% of the percent of black folk. So the black folk who fought for the usa to be born circa july 4th is the historical precedent for the pan human rights fighting of the 1960s. Arguably, the black freemen have always existed, whether called black loyalist who also fought in the war of 1812 or black legions fighting in french colors in the commonly called world war one, but during after the commonly called world war 2, that for black alone became very small as a movement in the usa. 01/16/2026 citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79387 @aka Contrarian MLK jr was a leader, not the leader of the civil rights movement. First the movement against Jim Crow started before MLK jr was born, and ended after MLK jr died so MLK jr was a leader, as much of a leader as Fannie Lou Hamer, or Frederick Douglass or Fred Hampton. Fred Hampton made the framework the entire donkey party mimicked. Madame CJ Walker and her daughter I argue were the two biggest civil rights leaders , with only the black hotel owner who financed MLK jr as their peer financially, cause those three people positively influenced alot of black people in ways very few other black people had or will, take out marcus garvey and the garveyite movement, because they had money. My question is why do black people say MLK jr was THE leader of the movement against Jim Crow when all black people should know he wasn't. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: MLK didn't ask to be the leader of the Civil Rights movement. No he didn't ask to be THE leader, but he wanted to be AN advocate for Black people and he was ... What your talking about is the difference between one's media role and one's true role. MLK jr was like MAlcolm like Stokely like Angela Davis, A leader. None of them were THE leader. Now in Media , which I Argue is the problem, MLK jr was posited in white owned media as THE Leader. And the Black Church at that time, who again, needs to be called out, pushed MLK jr in their aisles because he wasn't an areligious student: stokely, he didn't hold a gun : panthers, he wasn't a non christian: malcolm, he wasn't a non college educated woman: fanni lou hamer. So Balck churches did emphasize MLK jr to their forever dishonor for their own media agenda of attracting black people to the black christian church. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: It was a responsibility thrust upon him because he was so good at articulating grievances. It was like, he woke up one morning during the Montgomery bus boycott and all of sudden he was its leader! no whites did that. Whites in media did that. The black church did that. They both whites + the black church saw in MLKjr everything they wanted in black leadership. And the proof he wasn't THE leader is he was never head of the southern black leadership conference. why does that matter? that post would had been better for him. But he was used as the media front man, as a leader. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: He did not have time to map out a precise strategy or a long range grand plan, he and his cobbleled-together posse just kinda made it up as they went along, with Mahatma Gandhi's nonviolent philosophy as their inspiration. But he wasn't alone, the way your describing this history is for me very false. If a black child reads your words, they will think MLK jr was walking around alone doing everything. That is a lie. Others made plans like Ruffin. The truth is Ruffin was always about integration because Ruffin was , like FRederick Douglass before him, viewing black empowerment as part of human empowerment. Ruffin was a faggot who knew very well most black people in the 1950s 1960s wouldn't accept his true self in public, even though they talk of rights, they woudl want to curtail his rights, same thing with frederick douglass who had a white mistress. both of them had lives that denied black in various ways and so they wanted black empowerment but they wanted black empowerment within a greater human allowance in the usa. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: The idea of making a lot of long-range, multi-faceted demands was out of the question at that time. The movement just focused mainly on equal opportunities, and King endeavored to appeal to the conscience of his oppressors. This is not true. Your forgetting the movement was not in a vaccuum. The movement against Jim Crow which was from 1865 to 1980 , was being fought by black people absent weapons or an allowance of weapons aside whites with all the power. So, black people had to make everything as an arrangement with white desires and multifaceted demands were never going to happen in one whole phase with white people. For example, white people knew other whites would terrorize black people in the former confederacy but that terror led to a falsely incarcerated black populace rebuilding the south and kickstarting a financial boom for white people that kept down white on white violence. White people knew other white people were terrorizing black people in the west, the exodusters, but white people needed that land for new white immigrants to increase the domestic market and didn't trust black people's position toward native americans, whom white immigrants killed in the bulkload. It is known Frederick Douglass pushed black people on the underground railroad to not go to canada, which was best for those black people. But why? because douglass wanted black people in the usa to be tied to this country, he hated the idea of black people leaving the usa. So black people were definitely multifaceted, but white people only allowed simple wins. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: Integration was a counter to the separate but equal policy that was nothing more than subtle Jim Crowism. Integration represented fellowship and harmony where little black boys and girls would join hands with their white counterparts and partake of equality through tolerance. It was a dream; hence King's "I have a dream" speech. In retrospect , cheap , very cheap retrospect, years ago , which I talked about in this very forum, I oppose how people speak of integration in the usa. The people in the USA from 1492 to 2026 has always been integrated, never separated. Jim Crow is a form of integration. Did Black people work for non blacks? yes. Did black people buy from non blacks? yes. did non blacks buy goods from blacks? yes. Did blacks and non blacks have two separate theaters ? no, black people had to go to the theater white people owned. Did blacks and non blacks have two separate bus lines? no, black people had to use the bus line white people owned. Black people use the word segregated when they work for whites, live in a mostly white town, use a white owned bus, buy from white stores who are the only stores in town. Most Black people in the usa live a totally integrated life with whites from 1865 to modernity, but it is rarely an even life an equal life. The truth is the USA problem was never separate but equal, ask the native american. The USA's problem was equal but uneven. Everybody is human in the usa, from the european colonial phase to 2026, but the opportunities, rights, armed power, were never even or equal. The USA was never in majority application segregatory. Jim Crow was a form of integration. Enslavement before Jim Crow was a form of integration. The white massa in the house is not segregated from blacks pre 1865. Who cleaned massa's clothes? blacks . whose labor did massa profit off of? blacks. Who did massa fuck without payment? blacks. who cooked massa's meals? blacks. who cleaned massa's house? blacks. who played music and entertained massa or his guest? blacks. Massa say's he segregated from blacks while blacks are apart of every second of massa's life, that is not segregation. That is integration. Inequal, uneven? 100% but it is 100% integration. Integration isn't a dream. The form of integration MLK jr championed in speeches, or somewhat in appearance in fiction is star trek, is the hardest form of integration to acquire. Because that form of integration requires each individual to relinquish all biases, positive or negative, and that isn't easy. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: In hindsight, it's easy to criticize him for not embracing the militancy of those like Malcom X and the Black Panthers. But MLK was a man of his times and he was just beginning to re-think his goals when he was assassinated. Many think his taking a stance against the Vietnam war was a mistake but his doing so was in keeping with his pacifism. yes, hindsight is always cheap because one in a future can never know what they will do in the past. But, hindsight isn't unwarranted. We all make mistakes. It is interesting you suggest a negative judgement from MLKjr for not being militant. Though , again I don't think MAlcolm or the Black PAnthers were ever truly militant. They weren't warlike. MAlcolm + the Panthers were demanding self defense over the court room. That isn't militancy, that is looking at all the black people who have been murdered by whites who flouted the law in the usa or the european colonies that preceded it. The law didn't and doesn't protect black people from white violence. has it? If a group of whites are hunting me, how can I protect myself? quote the constitution or the declaration of independence? how can nonviolence save a black life? Has nonviolence ever saved one black life? did it save emmitt till? sean bell? The brother chocked to death in NYC, I can't breath? the brother int he train a white man chocked to death? Did SOnya MAssey get saved by non violence? Did yusef hawkins get saved by non violence? Did breonna taylor get saved by non violence? Did clifford glover get saved by nonviolence? Malcolm + The Black Panthers were not telling black people to have a combined armed revolt. Stokely either. Did fred hampton get saved by non violence? Why do some black people think, when another black person says, have a gun for these whites, that infers some sort of plan to kill all the whites? Is it some desire by some blacks to deny their own true hatred of whites while condemning other black people for simply being honest about the black condition in the usa? As james baldwin said, his father worked for whites his whole life, was a christian man, and hated whites more than anyone. prayed to go to heaven to be free of whites. Heaven don't have to be happy. The funny thing about MLKjr's stance is nearly all black leaders in his time were against the Vietnam war. Poor Sammy is a complicated thing. Malcolm/Martin/Stokely/The Panthers/Muhammed Ali... name me five Black leaders in the usa during MLK jr's time who were for the vietnam war? White people in majority, thank you Ken Burns in PBS for the proof, were in majority for the vietnam war. The vietnam war made billions per year. So MLK jr being against the Vietnam war was a mistake in that the white people who placed him in an elevated media position in white media, not equal to his functional position in the anti jim crow movement, were publicly for the war or profiting off the war. 16 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: A cigarette-smoking, scotch- drinking, womanizing King was not perfect, but he fought the good fight, and paved the way for those who eventually came to criticize him for not having more foresight. I lived through King's era, and to me and my contemporaries, he was a real live hero who died a martyr. My parents and a number of my blood relatives who i was able to learn of their experiences during Kings life, older than king or younger than king, all spoke positively of him. None of them suggested any falsehood, but each was able to admit problems. As well as admit a more honest environment than you suggest. And I oppose the notion of MLK jr as a womanizer. Yes, I speak now as a heterosexual male. Yes, MLK jr like all heterosexual men gets a hard on for more than just the woman he loves with his heart. yes. A man doesn't love a woman less because his dick gets hard for a woman not his wife. Womanizer. MLK jr loved coretta scott king with his heart. And it isn't a knock on coretta scott king that another black woman just might have a sexier ass than hers. And as for cigarette smoking or drinking alcohol, this was what nearly all adults did at that time , why is that a negative on MLK jr? AKA Contrarian, if you have reached this far, .. MLK jr was a great black leader, who was human and made mistakes, which we in the future should be able to admit to so that we can do better. But, MLKjr was never the leader of the anti jim crow movement, he was one of many great black people who made intricate plans, but had to deal with white power which limited all results. @Pioneer1 just from a labeling perspective, this goes back to my issue with people using the term communism. I said it already, but communism is a form of fiscal capitalism. Communism isn't a form of socialism because of one party of governance under a government plus a government having a larger role as a fiscal operator. Communism is merely fiscal capitalism with one party having overwhelming majority and the government taking 80% or more of the fiscal operation. The usa in its very history had one party at one time, the federalist. Now the usa originally had a very financially impotent federal government who had very little of the fiscal operation , but the federal government of the usa today is without question the biggest fiscal operator in the usa, so barring two parties whose dysfunction makes them one plus the financial role of the federal government of the usa today? is not the usa communist? It is like I say with Troy race/class/rank/order/classification/species/clan all have the same basic definition. Some arrangement of things based on a factor. When black people or non blacks say, race doesn't exist? how? do humans being not look different? do human beings not have clan names? do human beings not call themselves by a religious label? race is ever present. Does this mean a consensus exist on race? no. No consensus exist on race. Yes, you will never get consensus on race, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. When you call yourself human, that is racist? And as always , for some reason, many humans hate the term bias. They love talking falsely on race and never like to use the word bias correctly, cause most instances of race is really bias. And that goes back to integration in the usa. White negative bias towards blacks mixed with white power means black people lived and most still live integrated while totally unequal or uneven to whites based on white negative bias. It is 2026. we have to stop using words falsely. Race is real, race will never have a consensus of definition, nor should it, but it is real, and comes in more forms than just phenotype. Fiscal capitalism has been the system throughout all humanity , yes in variations with elements of other ideas but always fiscal capitalsm at heart. The anti jim crow movement, was never led by one black leader because it lasted from 1865 to 1980, the entirety of the jim crow era which came after the era of slavery from 1492 to 1865 and was followed by the era of the rainbow coalition from 1980 to today. But slavery, jim crow, and the rainbow coalition eras are all forms of integration, with the levels of eveness or equality best in the rainbow, worst in slavert. And, the limitations Black people have in the usa were and always tied to the integration with whites which is not even or equal but more positive in those two ways than ever before. Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79390 Posted just now @aka Contrarian 20 minutes ago, aka Contrarian said: Be advised that I had no problem with King smoking and drinking and liking women because I'm not a prude. And I was drinking Scotch and smoking his brand of Salem cigarettes myself. are you a film noir lover?:) 20 minutes ago, aka Contrarian said: To me, his indulgences made him more human. And he also had a very droll sense of humor which I related to. well said:) 20 minutes ago, aka Contrarian said: I speak from the zeitgeist of my environment when I comment on his leadership. I lived in the Midwest, not the Jim Crow South, and from our perspective, as spectators, he seemed to have just sprouted from nowhere, greatly helped by TV and his charisma. You'd be surprised how much of a spectator many "negroes" were during the civil rights era inasmuch as we were not in the trenches but, instead, simply offering the activists our moral and financial support. To us, the Movement was an idea whose time had come, and we admired and supported both him and Malcolm. I didn't know you were from the midwest, I see:) No I wouldn't, my elders said very clearly when we were watching malcolm x, , the film, I paraphrase "that is a lie, black people laughed at malcolm" My elders were there. this country, the usa , loves near history rewrites doesn't it. From the very beginning, the european colonies made mythos out of themselves. In one generation from the mayflower, white european invaders had created a false heritage of good peaceful folk trying to make their way in the world beset by wild savages who dont't comprehend civilization, said wild savages supposedly all native americans. Hell, most people supported the vietnam war. if you look at films, you will think the vietnam war was hated by most or at least opposed. but that isn't the truth. So the usa has a very negative heritage of lying about near history, which tends to become commonly accepted in it. Not in AALBC of course:) 1/17/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79431 @ProfD Well, first MLK jr alone didn't do anything. The idoltry to him I am 100% certain he would oppose cause MLK jr wasn't the leader of the anti jim crow movement, he was a leader. HE was part of a group of Black people doing many things, often in concert to help the larger village. So no matter what one black person is doing, if they are not part of a group of people doing similar it will come to nothing. where are the groups of Black people doing something together? Cause no one was a superman during the 1960s for black people. I don't think MLK jr would praise his activities or status so greatly. And not from modesty but honesty. How many black children have been killed by whites since MLK jr died? I count many. How many black peple have been assaulted by whites from no provocation of their own, being nonviolent, since MLK jr died? You speak of what MLK jr did and yet what he did wasn't enough to stop the millions of assaults on black people from his death to now in the usa by whites. Mae Louise Walls Miller was freed side her blood relatives from enslavement pre jim crow style in 1963. Malcolm was murdered 1965. MLK jr was murdered 1968. So Both men and many other black leaders died less than five years from a known case of black enslavement to a white in the usa... MLK jr was a great leader but the environment for the greater black people proved failures on the parts of those before him like boooker t washington or web dubois and the environment after mlk jr proved the failures on the part of MLK jr and his peers like malcolm. well so could MAlcolm, so could medgar evers... the list is long. Your speaking of one man when a large group of black people in the time MLK jr lived warranted as much or more than hime, and had as much or greater opportunity for personal financial betterment. 1/18/2025 CITATION https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79450 osted just now @ProfD 17 hours ago, ProfD said: Nowhere have I written that Dr. MLK Jr. was Superman. Of course, he was the spokesman for a movement. your correct, but he wasn't the leader, but a leader, and the spokesman role was given to him by others. 17 hours ago, ProfD said: Because Dr. MLK Jr. was not a Supreme Being, there's nothing he could have done about those realities. exactly, but you presented a level of idolization to MLK jr that warrants anyone to state a less idolized opinion, which I did. I quote you, I On 1/15/2026 at 4:54 PM, ProfD said: I dare not criticize Dr. MLK Jr.s non-violent approach On 1/15/2026 at 4:54 PM, ProfD said: FBA/AfroAmericans and ALL Black people on the planet owe a huge debt of gratitude to him. 17 hours ago, ProfD said: Again, in hindsight it's easy to claim Dr. MLK Jr.'s efforts "proved failures". Civil Rights and affirmative action doesn't happen without his influence and effort. I also mentioned other leaders, it is interesting that you focus on the mentioning of mlk jr when i mentioned leaders before or after him with the same failures, and said leaders before mlk jr were needed for the black collegiate movement/naacp /garveyites and et cetera which was mandatory in the early anti jim crow era for the later laws to come into being. 17 hours ago, ProfD said: Dr. MLK Jr.'s impact must have been significant from the number of schools, streets and other institutions named after him. again, that is media, not truth. The movement by Black people made the impact, white owned media + the black church created the myth of mlkjr as THE leader when he wasn't, he was a leader, among many, but he was the only leader that fit everything white media or the black church needed. And as in all the schools named after george washington who was a leader not THE leader of the colonies freeing from the english empire. 17 hours ago, ProfD said: there's nothing anyone can say or do that will ever make me question or minimize the impact Dr. MLK Jr. had on ALL Black people up to present and future. so mlk jr is beyond questioning ? i question all peoples. I don't have an idolization of anyone in that way, though i wonder how many black people similarly idolize bond. And, I never minimize the impact of the movement of Black people. It is interesting you focus so much on mlkjr. hiding behind the theme of this post your own idoltry. which I oppose. @Pioneer1 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: I know very few human beings who are so far "above" even a philosophical critique. no human being is, because we are human being. But the problem is that, some people unfortunately, think negative judgement lessens the value of another, or questioning another lessers said anothers role. It is very jesus /pope/schrumpft like, that thinking. 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: it seems he should have known how possible or impossible it would be for Black people to get along with these people. well, remember, black people when the usa was started still were able to get along, not all black people were enslaved. I am not suggesting, that anyone black should assume a peaceful life aside whites in the usa, but I Can see a black person coming to the conclusion that a peaceful coexistence can be a goal. Nothing is easy, but I can comprehend it. Would I have chosen it? no, but neither did nat turner, or assata shakur... so, I don't mind some black leaders having that path. 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: Federal law still always "trumps" (no pun intended) states' laws. Federal law supersedes state law like state law supersedes local law. right but this is why the congress is the only branch of government that can make law. the congress is born from the states. it isn't executive. even though schrumpft is part of a change started since abraham lincoln 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: Because there was no threat to AfroAmerican culture to justify them doing so. hmmm I get your demographic position. but since the black populace was minoirty to the white, even before the 1900s immigrant waves, wasn't the heritage or culture of DOSers always in need of attention. Maybe not danger, but I don't think the black church built up what needed to be carried/heritage, or tended what needed to be grown/culture. It is interesting that sinners comes out one year before the usa's 250 year anniversary, one of the messages in the movie is the black churches hindrance. The blues players father, is a hater. a knocker. he doesn't want to help, he wants to knock. We all know how many black churches criminalized black people who didn't sing gods music, before 1940, as well as after. Your right, their wasn't competition among minoirty quantities in the populace BUT why did the black church not try to bridge booker t and wed dubois/garvey and dubois/ garvey and booker t? why did the black church treat blues and jazz musicians so negatively? why did the black church treat hustlers so negatively? the my way highway vibe of black churches before the immigrant waves came, i argue was very detrimental to the larger populace later. yes, cheap hindsight but it is clear. And i argue with their role, no excuse existed, no excuse. 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: Capitalists AND Dictators by controlling the workers, not giving them a real say-so, and enjoying the fruits of the labor of the masses. your wrong about china. China has an engaged bureaucracy. People vote, I argue china has more involvement of its people in its government than the usa does or a western european country does, not just in raws numbers but in percentage. Remember the current chinese government is a creature of the 19000s, and one born from being enslaved to the usa/japan/western union. Thsoe three groups taught china to dislike the media dysfunction of government. countries that have big songs and big flags that hide the ugliest realities. the usa calls itself the land of freedom, while in truth has only destroyed many peoples. the usa is a white european country trying to sell itself as it isn't. China is proud to be a chinese country, who at least is more honest to the immigrant than the usa by a mile. I know your a statian, Pioneer, you have a pride about the usa from the black history that supported it. And china as a white asian country, is an enemy of the usa, although why wouldn't china be when the usa at one time owned a piece of china. North korea is a monarchy. It isn't like china. And, because I don't find any government system sinful I will say, North Korea's has two problem. 1st is the usa, who has put north korea, like iran , like cuba, under a severe strain on all fronts. The historically funny thing is iran + cuba+ north korea have one thing in common, they each insulted the usa, neither actually ever committed a crime to the usa while the usa committed crimes to them. the usa invaded cuba using cuban traitors and failed, the usa's murdering europhile puppet in iran failed, and the usa invaded korea when north korea had the whole peninsula but north korea survived. After 9/11 the usa talked about being invaded and axis of evil, and lied about afghanistan or iraq, but, based on the reaction the usa had to 9/11, cuba+iran+north korea have the right to bomb the usa. 2nd, the kim jong clan have to embrace a simple truth, the usa took their fate, absent usa involvement all of korea is led by the kim jong clan, but the usa as a country of power meddled. tehe kim jong clan have to find a way to end the demilitarize zone. I know no koreans made the zone but that is the challenge. 11 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: So next time me and Troy get into a fight over the existence of multiple races, I expect you to answer the call and pull up to the scene for some back-up....LOL 10 hours ago, Pioneer1 said: They should have started 30 or 40 years ago by vehently going after everybody....including other Black people...who were openly promoting what once were whispered rumors of his womanizing and cheating on Coretta. we all know the truth, the panthers/naacp/baptist preachers/drug dealers, the fbi and cia had agents everywhere. in all organizations including white ones. I have always asked that the old files be made public. I think all of humanity could use every single agent of the 1900s whether dead or alive exposed. cause I think that would explain a lot but.... @aka Contrarian 7 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: that his people laughed at Malcom I said my forebears saw black people laughing at Malcolm, not that my forebears laughed. But yes, many people in harlem laughed at malcolm in the street. And your surprise shows the strength of media. media has created a myth of malcolm + mlk jr that is false. Two great leaders, more alike than different. each wanting integration or peace. Both eloquent speakers. their only true difference as leaders was mlk jr , from the christian baptist heritage, speaks through hope, while malcolm learned from his father, not elijah muhammed but his father, to speak through truth. white people in the usa historically hate any black person who speaks through truth far more than any other black person. the native american is irrelevant, the white american is a true sinner, black dosers are cowards, immigrant americans are foolish traitors. IT doesn't mean each has to be that way forever, or is that way in every single individual, but it is the majority truth. 8 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: militant counterpart how do you define militancy? cause I have never seen malcolm as militant? I think he was a garveyite like his father, I think he did believe in self defense which his father+ mother needed, but so did mlk jr? is exhibiting self defense a sign of militancy? or is not saying things to make others comfortable , militancy? when I think black militancy, I think of nat turner/jean jacques dessalines/the black loyalists/the quilombos in south america/ann zhinga against the portuguese. I don't think of malcolm or the panthers. 1/18/2026 CITATION https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79464 @aka Contrarian 1 hour ago, aka Contrarian said: you disagreed with my calling Malcom X "militant" and asked what I consider "militant". Malcom was famous for the response he'd give when questioned about how he'd combat white aggression. "By any means necessary," was his adament response. And the Black Muslim quasi-military Fruit of Islam group presented the impression of being his back-up. This is a militant stance that didn't align with King's passive resistance philosophy which is why I and a lot of others considered Malcom militant. He talked tough. Wasn't Malcolm's father murdered by whites? around your neck of the usa in the midwest? He didn't talk tough, he talked from experience. The experience of a Black child who witnessed his nonviolent preacher father be murdered by whites for the crime of wanting black ownership and preaching to other black people to leave the usa if they are unhappy. A black child who witnessed his yella, black mother, be drove into a living prison by white power. MLK jr's father was never murdered by whites even though Gerogia is full of violent whites. MLK jr's mother was never drove into a living prison even though the bureaucracy of georgia has done so to many black women. 1 hour ago, aka Contrarian said: And I disagree with your implication that Malcom was in agreement with MLK on integration. He wasn't entirely opposed to white assistance but he was iinitially a black separatist advocate until he broke ranks with Elijah Muhammad later on. Malcolm was born from parents who were exodusters or garveyites or preacher folk? right? wasn't that malcolm's guidance as a youth. Exodusters aren't militant or segregated. yes, they want seperate places in the usa for black people , but they never advocated violence except in self defense. And isn't self defense eternally warranted by black people based on white actions? What year have whites not harmed a black person and gotten away with it in the usa? I argue MAlcolm , pre during or post elijah muhammed , always embraced that some black folk need to leave white countries all together in a true segregation/garvey, some black folk need to have their own seperate places in a white country/exodusters , but malcolm learned that some black folk can live amongst whites/integrated as in slavery or jim crow or now, but that doesn't mean they should not have the protection his parents didn't have. 1 hour ago, aka Contrarian said: And it should also be noted that during the MLK and Malcom era, TV talk shows were all the rage. These 2 black spokesmen were popular guest panalists on these airings and what came out of their mouths during these discussions was what defined them. They made their positions clear on live TV and were very articulate in doing so. Malcolm never wanted to be a cult leader, which is what elijah muhammed plus the other pastors of the nation of islam wanted by their actions. They used malcolm, the same way the southern black christian pastors, who were also cult leaders, used mlk jr as a front man for their activities. as stokely carmichael said, can you imagine a black baptist preacher not accepting a cadillac. 1 hour ago, aka Contrarian said: But their influence lives on and black Americans owe them a debt of gratitude. 100% true and I must add We black people in the usa and arguably all blacks in all humanity owe the whole movement of Black empowerment from the era of enslavement plus the era of jim crow , a debt of gratitude. And I hope we can learn from MLK jr teachings as well as Malcolms and many others. MAlcolm for me teaches a valuable lesson about early efficiency, don't let your idol ruin your plan. For me, MAlcolm had the best leadership skills among all black leaders in the usa when he lived, but he had one flaw he never recovered from, he allowed his idolization for an older black leader, in his case elijah muhammed , to cloud or manipulate his larger planning. That was a mistake. MLK jr for me teaches a valuable lesson in handling handlers, two questions AkaContrarian with a setup and amendment, and @ProfD + @Pioneer1 I ponder your thoughts to the three elements as well. Here is the setup when Sean Bell's father was asked in media what he felt, after his son was murdered by law enforcement in the new york city through forty one bullet shots, sean bell's father said he wanted the law enforcers dead. And al sharpton, the white media, the lawyers for the bell family, didn't have him around for anything afterward... It is clear the form of passive resisitance many blacks in the usa adhere to seems a complete form, that doesn't accept violence in weapons or closed fists but also in discourse. my questions, 1) has that interpretation of passive resistance broken up many black clans/homes? 2) do black people who adhere to passive resisitance criminalize plus illegalize [both not just one, meaning make a return of violence criminal while also have an unwritten black legal code that illegalizes black people who don't adhere by excommunication in various ways] actions by black people or black people themselves who don't adhere? in amendment, I think of two things. 1. amiri baraka who said the bussers were crazy getting ice cream and assaulted while doing nothing. 2. a black woman in texas, a matriarch, who told two nephews to leave texas after whites had assaulted their home and they wanted to act violently in return. I realize now, the language I need to have. And thank you three Contrarian/pioneer/profd for getting me to this place. When contrarian you said passive resistance, it made me realize to what extremes you refer to. The words/phrase resistance or nonviolence or passive or militant or violent keep getting used. But the issue here is the faith in the rule of law. Not the "rule of law" but " faith in the rule of law" as opposed to "function based on the life of black people" I see the lines from crispus attics, the black people who embraced whites like george washington before during or after 1776 in the enslavement era + Frederick Douglass, the black people who fought for the union or confederacy +MLK jr, the black people who nonviolently in all ways fought for black empowerment in the later years of jim crow era, Barrack Obama, the black people in the age of the rainbow, a set of black people have a "faith in the rule of law" such that even if the law is designed against black people, even if the law allows non blacks to terrorize black people, even if the law can't protect blacks from being terrorized by non blacks, each of said groups actions show a faith that the legal system, the law, in its processes and eventual result is satisfactory, even if the law fails during their lifetime to change for the better. They are willing to die in the courtroom, even as tulsa burns and black pregnant women are being hung. In parallel, from the black loyalists, black people who committed to vendetta against the whites of the colonies, white people of england didn't enslave blacks in the colonies, it was white colonist and colonialist before during or after 1776 in the enslavement era+ Nat Turner or Exodusters, the black people who retaliated when the law failed , wanted self defense, not isolation+ Malcolm who never felt black people should allow or invite harm from others which faith demands, when the law didn't protect black people from white terror in the jim crow era, to Assata Shakur and the many blacks later who have left the usa in the age of the rainbow, a set of black people have a "function based on the life of black people" such that the historical facts of the law working against black people, law allowing non blacks to terrorize black people, law not protecting blacks from being terrorized by blacks, prove to said folks a need/demand/function to act outside the law which can not be denied for a truly free black peoples whether they have white neighbors or not, even if they know they are disadvantaged, maybe inevitably, or if nonlegal actions fail during their lifetime for the better. They are willing to die outside the courttoom, even if non black power or black allegiances to the courtrom give advantages. I ponder if a bridge can be made between faith or function? 01/19/2026 CItation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79482 Posted just now @aka Contrarian I am not trying to change your mind , I am trying to comprehend from your point of view where militancy ends or begins with black people in the usa. I assume, but you haven't been exact, that a black person in the usa is militant anytime they have any action, verbal or non verbal that is aggressive, regardless of situation. If I comprehend you correctly, then Sean Bell's father is militant for speaking ill to those who murdered his son. Protestors who throw bottles in reaction to being hosed or shot at are militant. I comprehend fully that Malcolm is militant from your point of view based on how i assume you define militancy, but based on your definition, I assume, you categorize many black people as militant. I don't view malcolm,sean bell's father, protestors reacting to violent attack as militant. To me, self defense does not suggest militancy. Self defense isn't nonviolent, but it isn't militant, to me. But I want to comprehend your thinking better. As for the first question, and I speak to @ProfD I wish I knew with the population of descended of enslaved in the past or today how many in our homes have or have not schismed on the relationship on how to relate to whites, before the usa or after the usa, as the usa doesn't really matter in this issue. This issue is really about the white colonialist and their descendants and the black enslaved and their descendants. I wish I knew. IT would be very revealing. Cause, even if it is 40% or 30% that is a lot. Maybe it is 5% , tiny. I wonder when 1865 hit how was it? and it yields another question in my mind, why doesn't this question come up more? Every single black person knows personally, offline a spectrum of black people who relate differently to whites. Black comedians have a whole mountain of jokes on this topic. So why is it, black churches, black organizations, rarely speak on this? it isn't a secret. I have many questions and no way to get answers. The second question is in series to the first. I wish I knew the truth. I guess more so , you guys guess less, but what is the truth? No one will know sadly, unless someone has a time machine and a huge ledger. And of course, the problem is in the wording, what defines a schism in the home? what defines criminalization or unwritten illegalization? the details or definitions even with the same information can provide various results... I don't know. I wish I knew , cause it matters. I argue how black people relate to white people in the usa , in black peoples own communal sphere, is a big thing. And shouldn't be some private issue or some shrugged issue because it is really an all black affair. Hell, even Tyler perry has mentioned this issue a lot in his work. As to the third, at least on the issue of faith to rule of law versus function based on black history, a schism exist between you, aka contrarian and profd as members of aalbc And for me, the issue isn't about right or wrong but how important these stances are in the larger scheme of things. Black people who believe in faith in the rule of law, are willing to be harmed and abused by whites, rather than break the law. That is a big stance in our populace, arguably globally. Cause black people globally are abused by non blacks. so black people anywhere in humanity who are willing to be abused rather than break the law, can never relate to white people the same way as black people who function for self defense or revenge or vendetta [three different things but all are violent] based on black history . And as you both know I think of what to do tomorrow? I don't know how to bridge that issue. I never forget telling a friend of mine. If I was a pastor of a church and a white man entered the church I manage, I would told that white man to leave immediately, and go to st patricks church down the street, this is a black church. in the usa, White people historically or modernly can not be trusted intermingling with blacks. whites will 99% of the time harm blacks. the quantity of events where whites harmed blacks proves this more than anything. Not 100% no, not 100% but 99% yeah. Look at black towns today, black farms today, black regions in white cities today? No, do whites kill blacks and brand blacks today? no, but harm still? many times yes. Obama sang amazing grace for that church that white man murdered people in. And while I know that church is open to all phenotypes, that nonviolent openness as closing based on phenotype is a form of violence based on how nonviolence is implemented by many, that nonviolent position is what got black people killed. and, the law will not heal that, the law didn't protect those people. So how can a movement exist among black people in the usa, holistically in populace, with such a divide of way of life? I argue near impossible. The usa is full of white peoples, white people [white europeans/white asians/white latinos/white muslims/white women/white jews combined are the majority] compared to blacks. so, any plan has to consider how white people fit. and ... 1/19/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79486 @aka Contrarian 37 minutes ago, aka Contrarian said: Just go with your assumptions. Why do I have to justify my sentiments to you? All of this is hypothetical. Assumptions are worthless, comprehension has value and if I don't comprehend someone else I ask them, beginning with I don't know, which is wisdom. Comprehension has nothing to do with justification, a thing of justice, meaning a thing determining right or wrong. I am not thinking in terms of right or wrong. I am not asking questions of you to be right or wrong, but to comprehend. Now you may not want me to comprehend you or may think another comprehending you is unimportant, but I don't live like that so I ask, with no demands of an answer. But I will continue to ask anyone to comprehend more. all of this is under an idea, maybe, the discourse in this post is about how black people relay to each other, and it is proof, at the least, that black people in 2026 have a lot we don't comprehend about each other and more importantly, the lack of comprehension makes collective action inevitably faulty. 1/19/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79495 ed just now @aka Contrarian 2 hours ago, aka Contrarian said: You are much too subjective. It's always about you and your compulsion to be omniscient, and ultimately omnipotent. You obviously want to solve all the problems of the world. Good luck with that goal. no I don't want to solve all the problems in the world. first, because some problems can't be solved, they have to be lived through. They have to be given their time, even in full gruesomeness. I learned that a relative long time ago. second, because I know exactly what I want, and comprehend the prosequences plus consequences of any action. I was fortunate enough to have the time and space to learn that, and what I want isn't what you say I want. I don't want to know all, oomiscient, or have all power, omnipotent. first, because either is impossible. To know all you have to know not merely about all today, but all yesterdays and all tomorrows... for any finite being, that is impossible. And you can never have all the power unless you can become all, and no finite being can become all. My rearing by my parents taught me that as a child. I do enjoy communicating and learning through communication. And I was taught as a child to always expand my knowledge as much as I can. Limiting the value of nothing. Thank you for the luck:) 1/20/2026 END OF MULTILOG FOR 2026 At the end of the multilog for 2026, discussing MLK jr and non violence, I thought about nonviolence effectiveness and came to a realization. The nonviolent movements problem isn't the absence of violence. The nonviolent movements problem is inability of admitting what is needed to get results. The nonviolent movement says all acts are violence: verbal/tactile/financial/explosive or other are not permitted as actions. But the question is how can one be effective nonviolently. Many suggest turn the other cheek but if someone raped your sister, killed your father, slapped you with metal knuckles. You turning the other cheek doesn't generate punishment to the abuser. You turning the other cheek allows the abuser to get away with abusing. And I thought about various violent actions: a black girl flung to the ground by a law enforcer, the mountain of domestic violence cases that the new york police department doesn't try to solve but allows to stack, my own personal interactions with law enforcement trying to intimidate or approaching violently to me absent any provocation from me. And I realized, the NAACP probably never took to court even one percent of the cases of white violence[from terrorism to spitting] against black people in the united states of america. Alice , the black woman enslaved in the 1960s means, the number of crimes by whites to blacks in the 1800s was astronomical. Nothing can be done about the past, but arguably half of the white populace in the usa and a higher percentage in the south, never faced any legal proceedings for their violence. And that impotency in results is the weakness in nonviolent philosophical supporters. Responding by violence can come in many forms but responding nonviolently can only occur through the court of law. But, the usa will require millions of lawyers acting pro bono, for good or absent pay, to even get near 25% of the cases of white violence to blacks. But now I know what to tell nonviolent adherents. Because no idea is evil or good, the only issue is implementation. MLK jr plus others felt nonviolence could change the usa for the better through changing laws. But I realize the flaw in that thinking. Changing laws doesn't change habits. Doesn't impose the rule of law in regions. The civil rights act of 1963 hasn't protected one black person from white violence. But if fifty percent or above of incidents between nonblack violent actors to black people in the USA was sent to court, I can't be certain the usa will be better quickly, but I am certain it is the only way, nonviolence can lead to betterment. Fiscal capitalism will fail black folk cause having money doesn't deter white violence, ask tulsa. Being law abiding will fail black folk cause abiding by the law doesn't protect you from those who do not, ask trayvon martin or sean bell or abner luima or many others. Turning the other cheek will fail black people because the person who needs to turn the other cheek is the white abuser/enslaver/terrorist. The court room is the only place that will aid black people because the cost from verdicts in favor of blacks , whether criminal or civil, allows white terrorist/enslavers/abusers to pay nonviolently. But it has to be at an unprecedented level in the usa. I read somewhere that the NYPD's criminal behavior costs New York City hundreds of millions of dollars. If I combine the reality of most cases of white abuse to blacks not making the courtroom and the cost of verdicts in black favor being quite expensive to the government, I see that taking white violent behavior to court is the only way Black nonviolent people can plan to get results from their philosophy, in the usa. 1/23/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79554 osted just now @Troy 3 hours ago, Troy said: Race is purely an arbitrary social construct with no basis in genetics. I will change the adjective to inevitable. but even enough:) 1/23/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79567 osted just now @Delano Before you can ask if one is free you must define freedom. So, I ask you to define freedom and then I can easily answer your question are Blacks, whether descended of enslaved or not, free. But, if anyone answer a question of freedom absent defining freedom first it will only give an uneven answer. 1/23/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79577 osted just now @Delano 6 minutes ago, Delano said: In every conversation words generally have two meanings, the dictionary and the personal. Define it however you wish. @richardmurray You didn't ask me the meaning of freedom. YOu asked me On 1/23/2026 at 4:48 AM, Delano said: Would you say US Blacks are free? And I replied, when you ask whether anyone or thing is free, define what it means to be free in the question and then I or anyone else can easily answer. I didn't ask you, you asked me. But you want me to define words that you used in your question however I wish. No, that is bad communication. You tell me how you define freedom and then I will answer your question... I seek to improve how i communicate always. 1/24/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/#findComment-79617 Posted just now @Delano how do you define freedom? I will like to know. do you define freedom as thing for the living or a thing for the living plus the dead? no answer you make is wrong or right. 1/26/2026 Citation https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12293-mlk-jr-day-is-on-the-19th-in-2026/page/2/#findComment-79744 sted just now @Delano @Pioneer1 @ProfD nice trilog on the question of the quality of freedom when one is dead. It is full of thought, as death plus freedom don't have universal definition, nor is communication to the deceased proven to those who never experienced it or comprehended robustly enough to those who have experienced it to clarify freedom's quality to those who are dead. The living can only guess how freedom , however defined for someone living, is to those who are dead, which isn't the dead communicating their position. A guess isn't wrong, but a guess isn't right, itis a thesis. In this case three thesis, well done.

Richard Murray Valentines day album 2020 LINK Black Hearts Day or Valentine's Day good news 2020 ALBUM Richard Murray Valentines Day Album Dawn- beginning of twilight before sunrise And soon, both of us,Learned to trust,Not run away,It was no time to play,We build it up Twilight-sun invisible but atmosphere illuminated and now, I’ve got a song, to sing, tellin the world, about the joy you bring Sunrise-sun going above equator And all the while, inside, I knew, it was real,The way you make me, feel Morning- sunrise to noon I, can open, your eyes,Take, you wonder, by wonder,Over, sideways, and under Noon-temporal middle of the day Ain’t, no second chance,You got to hold on to romance,Don’t let it slide Evening- end of noon to the beginning of night Let me hear, you tell me, you love me,Let me hear, you say, you`ll never leave me Sunset-sun setting beneath equator As soon as I, get you, out my head, I’m in, your car, again Twilight - sun invisible but atmosphere illuminated Pour the wine, light the fire, Girl your wish, is my command Dusk- darkest phase of twilight I won’t pretend, that I intend to stop living, I won’t pretend, I’m good at forgiving Night- darkness between sunset and sunrise Love them, and leave them, that’s what I used to do,Use them and abuse them,Then I laid eyes on you

Mardi Gras is 47 days before Easter, since Easter can be from March 22nd to April 25th , Mardi Grad can be from February 3rd to March 9th. Mardi Gras is February 25th in the year 2020. I ask you to make a journal of your day in New Orleans during mardi using photos from wherever you like to paruse Story 1 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=885 Story 2 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=886 STORY 1 ba-bedee-debede-doo Bonjou Nouveau Orleans, I have returned. The morning is bright or magical, as I step from the shore into the city. The sound of horns audible even from this distance. I wonder if anyone will remember when I was here last. If anyone will remember what I did. Well, I have to step forward to find out. Just follow the sounds, as they get deeper. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba Some people are celebrating, and I see a krewe coming like a grass from a storm. Suddenly a woman pops out. She is on a mobile float like a little island, floating between the streets. A lovely glaze from her skin is given no interference from the sunlight, the latter choosing to shine away rather than muddy her complexion with its cloudy difference. I am in new orleans. I wonder if I can get to the old bar, I wonder if it will be there. I awe at the spirit bird going away on her magical island, like all the other men, and as the island turns, I turn back onto the road north, to the Treme, to the storyville, to my old grounds. I wonder about the families of my friends and I, what happened from then to now. Could our stories have ended? I see, a family dressed up. I Want to ask them their names, one looks familiar, but I see no men. It is ungentlemanly to speak to women unaccompanied. They may take great offense. so, I decide to keep it moving, let’s not get startled. In my pocket is an old daguerreotype. I take it out and shed a tear. Suddenly the beautiful collage of horns is no longer interesting. All I can recall are the chants of yore, when instruments were too expensive, when the priestesses still roamed the noir streets of the city. Gens de magique femme . I am amazed it survived the passage through time but I hope it will not be a memory discontinued. It takes hours to get back to my home, ici le tempeste, no longer here, nowhere, I remember when a storm passed through the city. Everyone’s shanty was destroyed but mine, mine remained, mine survived the storm. But that is cause it was a storm itself, shaking uncontrollably absent proper supports, leaking wildly absent a proper roof, a collisions of sounds, made it an orchestra for any who lived in it for any time. It taught me more than any human ever could about sound. I see this small storefront where its porch stood and go to it. The cover over the window has a small gap and i see a woman dancing inside. An angel, like the one on the floating island before, but this one is in a room of cotton, gently cushioning her every move. Her face… her face look like my fofo, I love her most of all. I wish the ancestors allowed me to take her too. I need to speak to this woman. I go inside, the woman pays me no mind, entranced in her own routine. I ask her, can she tell me where to find the descendants of Madame Fofo, my fofo. She does a pirouette and stops facing me. She seems startled by my old-style clothes, the first in these future times, but tells me to go to a party at the beach, where her cousin is. She is the best historian she knows. So, I travel back out and go back from whence I came, back to the waters about my city, back to the waters that can take you anywhere. And, a party existed where I stepped out of. People drinking, partying, listening to music. I recall the description of the cotton angel and look about, even get a free sausage from finely ground meat that is put in between a fluffy bread shaped similar. I imagine to myself, i may never find the historian but then I notice a woman from afar who may be her. I keep walking toward and I am certain she fit the description. I face the potential historian standing next to her friend I assume. The friend, like an Incan princess, notice me first and realize my stare. I approach and the historian turns to me. I ask the historian her name and it matches what the cotton angel told me. I explain to her I am looking for Madame Fofo, my fofo. The historian looks to me in disbelief, and pulls a letter out of her pocket, telling me she found it in the archives and keep it for inspiration. She tells me, to read it. I read the letter and it says: Mon amour, mon corniste, mon Tontton, j'ai fait ce dont tu avais besoin. J'espère que vous trouverez notre avenir sûr. Je veux vous demander, vous dire, beaucoup de choses. Mais, je ne peux même pas savoir si vous lirez ceci. En l'état, je dirai ce que vous devez entendre. Où est ta corne? C'est là que nous nous sommes embrassés pour la première fois. la touche tape sur la perle blanche. La mélodie que nous avons faite ensemble. I comprehend instantly, hand the letter back to the young lady and go to Bienville street, and to where we kissed for the first time. The lamp is still there and I see at the base the bumpy surface and a white bump exists. Then I tap on the it with my shoe. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and a latch open. My horn! I play our melody on our horn and I can see it is all worth it, as the world reverse before my eyes, like an old movie, Bienville street is going to the way it was in the past. Past I do not know, but past looking closer to my own. Now I know it is worth it, now I know I was right to risk this. The priestess said the Cardinal’s spell on our child needed someone to risk their life, where only love can succeed. I trusted in my Fofo and she trusted in me, and I am coming back. Better keep playing my horn. ba-bedee-debede-doo-boo-badoboop-ba-ba-badoboop-badoboop-bedee-debede-bedee-debede and on and on and on, I see her. STOP! It is the evening, and My Fofo run to me, and embrace me. But she isn’t alone, someone is in a carriage next to her. Someone who look a little like us both. Ancestres! “Mon amour, voici notre fils. L'annee est” I kiss my wife. I do not need to know that. We have all the time in the world. STORY 2 I am walking alone, far from bourbon street. Far from the sound of beads hitting bare breast, drunken stammers acapella through the krewes horns, just a man alone with the moonlight looking down upon me. I see a small shop, too small to have a sign, only the merchandise in the window provide any clue to the innards. Nothing particular I notice: masks/cloaks/old horns with stories to tell. But wait, a small figurine catch my eye. A simple figurine ready for Mardi Gras in an appropriate outfit. I hear a sound in my ear as I look upon the figurine. But I cannot decipher it. "venez ici": I hear clear while subtely. I shake my head wondering why I am hearing french. "come here": I comprehend but I do not know from who. Again, the voice repeat and I notice my attention to the figurine. She is not moving, she does not seem mechanical, and yet I seem to know the voice is from here. I enter the shop. "Bonjour": is the shopkeeper courtesy. I am surprised he think I know a lick of french. I ask about the figurine in the window. He say, she is very old, made for a gens de colour libre woman. I ask him the price, a gentle fifteen dollars. I accept, and he gathers the figurine and place her in a box with bubble pop for cushion. I leave thinking, I have no wife or daughter and I am getting a cute figurine. Well, at least I can tell people she is old. "trouver ma peinture": I sense from the figurine but I keep on walking. "find my painting!": and I face the unchanged figurine, holding it high above my head, and ask a silly question: "where is your painting?" I wait but no reply. I continue to walk finally satisfied this nocturnal magic is finished with me. "North roman entre Beinville et Iberville" I recall the two streets, I think I know where she mean. I take out my map and recall I passed that location and I begin to walk there. My companion stay muted even as I approach the methodist church at the locale. I look down to the figurine and wonder if this is alright. A light is on, inside. I walk to the door and knock. A cleaning man open the door. "Why aren": he stop speaking and seem in a daze. I wave my hand in his face. No change. I decide to go inside foolishly, not knowing if the magic I did not use will come again if more strangers find a stranger in their church. But I look about the nave or the walls and see no painting. I look behind a column and see her. Somehow I know the figurine is happy. But then a question occur to me. This painting is you. I thought you were given to a gens de colour libre girl, not that you are a gens de colour libre woman. The painting then wink at me. I look up and she speak. "Bon soir anglo, I... need your help": she speak simply. I ask her, what can I do to help you. "You need to face the woman who did this to me and then face me to her, i can do the rest": she speak surely. I have many doubts. "Whomever did this to you is way beyond me, I am no sorcerer": I say escapingly. "Y do not need to know how to wield the magic, just know I need your actions to aidez moi... and the woman in question is located in La Fourche, you will find here where three tree intertwine": and then the painting became still. I look at the figurine and nothing. I go to the door of the church and the cleaning man is still quiet, so I slip past him and close the door behind me. It can be unwise walking around new orleans or around cajun country at night, even during mardi gras but I figure the figurine will help. I buy a sandwich from a local deli and a pack of cigarettes. I eat while I walk, figurine safely in her box, and I keep walking. By the time I get to La fourche I am smoking cigarettes. A car with a confederate sign, fill to the rim with white men who are looking at me, drive but do not stop. I know I need to make this quick. I go by homes, some literally at the river edge, and look for the three entwined tree. I hear a scream. I see a man violently moving and decide to hide behind a bush. I creep near the window and see a dangerous sight. I look down at the figurine and wonder if this little magic will not get me killed. "Sud, sud!": I hear in my head. Clearly my wavering got the attention to my master. I leave the scene, and hope I can find this tree before I end up in a horror movie. I walk south and finally I see the tree. But no one else is there. "Speak these words anglo...Je te donne mon cœur, tu me donnes un objectif, personne ne doit le savoir": the figurine speak hurriedly in my soul. I am hesitant but finally I decide, all well what the hell. And, after speaking the words, nothing. "PUT ME AWAY QUICK": the figurine speak, I can hear her ceramic heart beating, the black priestess soul underneath determined. Suddenly, a half of a mask appear on one side of the three twined tree. The eye behind one half of the mask seem to be a fluid blue. I hear a loud sniff. and, a woman appear from behind the tree. A forked tongue hiss whisper from the mask: "You are pretty fonce to be down here, anglo...now what is your goal, if your coeur is not heavy enough, I get the rest of the deal". I reply firmly: "alright ma'am, though I already gave my heart to another, though I cannot comprehend exactly why": and I pull out the figurine quickly, facing the masked woman straight away. A hiss is heard from all angles and I hear the figurine in my head:"Vous devez m'avoir oublié, imbécile. Joséphine vous l'a toujours dit, pour faire attention aux vieux sorts que vous lancez." The masked woman, writhing, spit out in french:"Anacaona, mais je connais le sang de ta famille, tu n'avais pas de descendants, pas de clan pour t'entendre." The figurine spoke again:"Imbecillia, vous avez oublié que le membre du clan peut avoir n'importe quelle distance, et l'esclavage de votre côté de notre famille a profité d'éclats faits dans mon clan il y a longtemps." And, a flash. Something knocked me down but someone not present helped me up. "LEve! anglo, leve!": said a woman, a black woman in the gown from the tree woman. Her hair pure white. She kneeled down and looked at a figurine on the ground. Suddenly, I realized where is my fifteen-dollar figurine. I hear a giggle from the stranger masked woman:"it is me, the figurine" I am amazed. And then I realize the figurine on the ground is the woman formerly behind the mask. My figurine, pick up her nemesis, and say:"retourne, go back to new orleans, and thank you". My honesty perk up. I did not do anything. She smile and say:"This magic was not really of spells but circumstance, will a descendent of mine find me, me living in a porcelain figurine in a small shop in new orleans, but you found me, pure chance and that was the magic that tipped the scales, no spells, no incantations". I stand up and offer a hand, and I notice her hand has age. "aucun problem anglo, I have been dormir a while": she lift up and give me a hug and continue:" I will be alright, I think I know where I can help myself around here, and I thank you for that". Before I can speak, a sole horn player, standing aside a wall is playing, while the rest of bourbon is empty. It is very late. I think to go back to the three entwined tree, but I am tired, and I need to get rest. For some reason, I need to get rest, and I do. ... Back in New York City, I wonder if I had a dream induced by someone planting something in a drink or spraying me with something. I think on that for weeks. And then I get a postcard. I turn to the back and I see Anacaona Liber's name attached to that old churches address. Her message is:" Figure I needed a new painting with a new style, I will wait for you to decide about listening to your heart" I realize, what may have happened but hesitate to confirm and when I turn the postcard back around, the image wink at me. ART https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/655-black-history-month-mardi-gras-2026/ CELEBRATIONS Salvador, Bahia, Carnival 2026 https://aalbc.com/tc/topic/12468-salvadaor-bahia-carnival-2026/

The March Equinox is always between March 19th and March 21st in the year 2021 it was on is March 19th 11:49 pm EST UTC -5 , it is the beginning of spring in the northern hemisphere, fall in the southern hemisphere share photos of art OR text of fiction The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo or any craft depicting Black people in fall in the southern hemisphere, any country <south america/caribbean/africa/south asia/australia> OR Black people in spring in the northern hemisphere, any country <north america/europe/northern asia> The text can only be fiction based on the following: Black person or peoples at the first day of spring or fall AALBC STORY https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-march-equinox-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=878 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=890 Story 3 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=891 AALBC VERNAL EQUINOX TALE 2020 https://flickr.com/photos/kanaristm/29353776801/ It is the beginning of Spring in a small southern town in Mississippi. A home older than one hundred and fifty year, made to be a tombstone to an old world but used to bloom a new one, glisten in the light. As movement abound in the house, floor boards creak. The man in the house awaken, with noise or confusion. The people in the house notice the noise and search for it. An axe break through old wood and light shine on the man in the house, for the first time in one hundred and twenty-four year. A strong male hand offer itself and the man in the house take it. The man in the house is fatigued, facing a clan in shock. "Who is this?": a silver haired black woman ask. A little boy and a teenage girl take a photo and post it online. "Stop that you two... I don't know grannie": a heavy-set man ponder what to do and ask: "who are you?" "...Jonas": The man formerly in the house reply. "Where do you come from, how can we help you?": The heavy-set man ask. Jonas look at the house and reply: "This is my home, at least 124 years ago" All but one in the modern clan laugh or giggle. Grannie tell them all to shush and she think, and ask a question. "Are you the Night warrior?" Jonas look toward Grannie, incredulous. Grannie continue:"Our family have a tradition. One that was taught to me by my mother, it is of the telling of the Night warrior". Everyone look to Grannie. She begin to hum. "Oh be a McDowell, oh run on the road, the ghosts are coming to kill you don fret my girls, don fret The Night Warrior will save you waiting under the step, waiting under the floor" waiting till one hundred and twenty four" Jonas ask her: "Was more said?" "No, but I never forget asking my mother the same thing, she said her mother told her, the same thing she would tell me, the Night warrior will know" Jonas ponder the words from Grannie. Grannie gesture to everyone else with her hand and they all obey. "Wait Chelle": she grab her grand neice:"help him get set up in the attic ok" Chelle smile at Jonas. https://www.blackplanet.com/riprene2002/photo/2000455418 She escort him to the attic and hand him toiletry and other items and tell him: "take it easy, grannie will be up here to explain more things" ... Jonas worked all morning on the farm outside the house he was in, doing what he know how to do: till the land, work the land, be the land. It is the afternoon and Jonas ponder the world he is in. He ponder what became of his community. Grannie filled him in: disappearances, hangings, pain, fights he didn't agree with, fights he is sad were lost. He confessed to Grannie why he was put to sleep. He was meant to be a tool in a future that never was. A blooming that never became. A priestess from New Orleans asked the spirits to plant him the home, the house be his shell. He wanted an all-out fight but his sister said no. She had lost her husband and daughter and was not about to lose her niece, Grannie's mother. After one hundred and twenty four year he can arrive and start the fight. But Jonas realize, he has no one to fight alongside. The modern Black want to battle absent a physical blade. What does a warrior of the blade do? He see the heavy set relative to Grannie outside the Horse bin. https://www.blackplanet.com/AyeDrayDray/photo/2000434450 "Josh, I will take Mamba out riding": Jonas inform Josh. "ye ok" The horse has one mind with Jonas and come to him. Jonas get on and gallop gently away. Josh shake his head, not knowing where this will end. Jonas and Mamba are casual near the river when Jonas see a riverboat. The name strike him:" Cassie's Cry". He remember Cassie was the name of the priestess. She told him, he would have to look for her in the future. He only told his sister about it. Jonas tell Mamba to go home and jump into the river and intercept the riverboat. Two crewman guide him on the ship. He asks, do they know who this riverboat was named after. The two crewman do not answer, but take him to a sitting area, with some people gambling. Jonas sit patiently, alone, listening to odd machines. The door open and a hippy woman step in; she walk over to him and lean over, smiling in his face. https://www.blackplanet.com/sexy_shyjade/photo/1101583505 "Interesting, leave us": she wave her hand and crew man leave, only a few customers present, and she continue: "well , Jonas, it is you , isn't it" Jonas is excited and start to be inquisitive, but is interrupted. "I am not Cassie, she is my mother" Jonas look surprised and the daughter to Cassie continue: "After what she did for you, do you doubt her abilities?... I can take you to her, but you will have to work on the riverboat, small labors, you may even enjoy the kind of world on this boat". Jonas accept and shoveled some coal and waited on customers, black or white on the way to Baton Rouge. ... The Daughter to Cassie, escort Jonas from her riverboat to a simple house. She leave him waiting in a second floor room for Cassie. After a time, Cassie arrive. "Bonjour Jonas, it has been a while": Cassie sit next to Jonas and continue:"... yes I look a little younger than when you saw me last, it happens when you're a priestess" "... It was a waste of time... a total waste": lament Jonas. Cassie smile: "A waste, your wrong, if you had died, a rare person would had been killed to soon" "Yes, but why didn't you save others": yell Jonas. "Everything in nature has rules, and the natural side unnatural are in nature, thus all have rules" "So... what am I to do" "Live your life" "WHAT! I am told black children were found burned alive, not too far from here and your reply to me is Live Your Life" Cassie snap her finger. https://www.blackplanet.com/Skyyee44/photo/2000440967 The room go colorless and Jonas is unstable at the sudden change. Cassie snap her finger and normal vision return. "... I just don't see what to do" "My dear Jonas, bloom, you must bloom, a one hundred and twenty four year bloom, your bloodline still own that house, make it more" Jonas is not convinced but he spend the day at Cassie's before he head back up river on the riverboat. ... Days later Jonas is tilling the land, being one with the land. Grannie ring the bell for everyone to come inside for breakfast. Jonas bump into Josh, Chelle, side others. Everyone is hungry. Grannie ask Jonas to bring something from the refrigerator. Jonas acquire it, but is intercepted. https://www.blackplanet.com/Chocc115/photo/2000270158 "You are not boring, old man": the interceptor press against him slightly. "I need to bring the lemonade in": reply Jonas calmly. "what is wrong?": question the interceptor. "Nothing, but I realized I am a seed, I don't need to rush my growth, and your adopted mom, will not like you messing around with me" CAST @Skyyee44 Cassie @sexy_shyjade daughter to Cassie @AyeDrayDray Josh, heavy set relative to grannie @Chocc115 adopted daughter of grannie @riprene2002 as Chelle grand niece of grannie If you like more of my stories check out my Short story collection series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 And I am on Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 Deviantart https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/journal/Vernal-Equinox-2020-tale-834328255 Tumblr https://richardmurrayhumblr.tumblr.com/post/613000215536992256/most-times-when-the-spring-come-i-know-it-by-the Tumblr Stories https://richardmurrayhumblr.tumblr.com/tagged/submission DeviantArt Stories https://www.deviantart.com/hddeviant/journal/?catpath=/ STORY 1 Most times when the Spring come, I know it by the trees. Many colors, many flowers, vibrantly coloring the world. It is a common arrangement. But, this spring , it is worse. It is one hundred and twenty-four days since the arrival of the first elf. Let me show you on my phone. She just popped up surrounded by this white light. Did she drop into the white house? no. Did she drop into the United Nations, perhaps with a powerful electronic or mechanical assistant, perhaps even boss? no. Did she make herself known anywhere the television people or movie people alluded to in the past? no. She made herself known in the women’s bathroom at the local park, at Riverside. Police and some three-letter people arrived but she seemingly had no worries or need to worry. It took a while but someone asked her a simple question, why is she here? She said it is a secret, and then disappeared, reappearing and disappearing per her desire throughout the one hundred and twenty-four day. Now, whenever you go outside you may see something like this stranger. I could had asked, did you know, flowers are growing around you, blossoming more by the second. I did not ask. At least like so many of the others, he seemed content with the magical green flung all over the city. But I forgot his plight quick, when I saw her. This big chocolate orange leaf floating around little orange leaves. She paid me no mind, and was totally focused on playing with her fellow leaves. I pushed myself on her and asked her name. She said, Onluleon. I loved the way she sounded it better than the way I thought it. Onluleon I watched for hours playing with the leaves, never tired or concerned with any other. I left my bench and went back over to her, asking. You know it is the beginning of spring. She looked at me dumbfounded. But, she didn’t ignore me, and took me by the arm. She went to a purple tree where a songbird was grabbing nectar. She asked me: “isn’t she lovely” “The tree”: I replied. “No, the tree is a he, I meant the songbird” I guessed she was right. I was happy just getting this time in. The songbird suddenly fell onto the ground and bloomed into a woman. The purple leaves coating her, with some sticking to her hair. I asked the former songbird; how does she feel. She simply stared at me and whistled away. I tried to go after her but I felt stiff. Too stiff to move fast. Onluleon ,I bet an Oriole at one time in her life, started sniffing me and I realized I had a flower growing out of me. I hobbled back to where I saw that guy and I realized he was no longer there, but a small blossomed tree sat in his general location. I wondered if he even comprehended me and how long did I have to be comprehended. I called for Onluleon and shook her faintly. I was frightened as I saw my vision covered in leaves. It all occurred to me, that spirit was going to turn the human into the plant, and the non-human into the human. One hundred and twenty-four days to bloom, and we all missed it. I missed it. If I can no longer think like before I settled my mind knowing that I will have time as a tree to bloom into something else later. A cardinal, turned into a ballerina for my last sight. STORY 2 Once long ago, a beautiful forest bloomed in spring. But what few humans knew back then and fewer know now is that the trees can make the fairy folk bloom. But it cannot be any fairy, it has to be the one hundred and twenty fourth fairy in line from the last one bloomed. Meaning, if a fairy bloom, only her 124th descendant in line can bloom after her and so forth. Fairies are tiny and thus sometimes, a bloodline end and only special magic can force a blooming. But that special event is for another story. This story is about Asukume, and how her bloom survived. Asukume was the 124th descendant of the last fairy to bloom with the beautiful forest and she was very happy. She imagined all the great things her blooming can do. Unlike most fairy folk born from the flowers in a forest, when a fairy bloom, that child is not a fairy but a umoyuswi. They can make fairies even stronger and thus lie the danger. Some fairies betrayed their parents and seek to control nature, not serve her. One is Queen Itshe. Normally in stone. She is no bigger than a walnut, safe from human eyes but kept hidden by her allies the squirrels. She placed a spell on herself to rise every 124th blooming to acquire an umoyuswi. When she rises she is a deadly grey color. But her intent is clear. To take a umoyuswi's power, energy, and use it to not only revitalize herself, but extend her control. Forcing more to be here allies in the red-blooded tribes: humans, bears, et cetera. Asukume knew the danger, and always kept moving to make sure she was never in one spot long enough for Itshe or her squirrel spies to find her. Fortunately, Asukume had her baby. And in time it grew and blossomed into a fine umoyuswi. Her butterfly wings glittering everywhere. But she was still young. In her newness, she wanted to talk to everyone and forgot the warning her mother gave about talking to squirrels, and she talked to one. The squirrel informed Itshe and she came floating in. Asukume daughter was scared at the dull white sight of Itshe, but the squirrels held her down and Itshe began to absorb the energy of Asukume daughter. Itshe was reveling in getting her color back, intoxicated with a success that had to wait thirty thousand year. In her hubris, she forgot one key weapon, a name. Asukume daughter had not given herself a name, per the custom of umoyuswi. Asukume did not know the rule but a flower did and it spoke to Asukume daughter while being drained. It told the child to choose a name. The squirrels were to slow in chopping the flower down and Asukume daughter chose a word she heard her mother use, dodging through the expanse of the forest. Her mother always called the forest an ocean. And so, Asukume daughter named herself Ulwandle. With her name, she could do more and since Itshe had stolen so much color, she figured she needed to keep it and she turned her into a flower, a carnation. She turned her squirrel servants into one being, a dog. And after that Ulwandle, butterfly wings flapping, flew high up and promised her mother a safe return from the school in the moon.

April Fool's day April 1st Click the Link and learn something http://houyhnhnm.github.io/aprilfool/index.html

Easter is always between March 22nd and April 25th .Easter was April 12th in the year 2020, the name is derived from Ēostre the real or unreal germanic goddess but the date and most modern traditions refer to Pascha which roughly translates to passover, the Jewish holiday. But, I want to focus on Ēostre. For easter, include the real or unreal traditions attributed to Eostre, like rabbits, or make your own.You can show photos of art OR text of fiction The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo or any craft depicting Eostra real or unreal traditions The text can only be fiction based on the following: Real or unreal traditons of Eostre. Orthodox catholic easter comes a week after roman catholic easter. Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=892 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-eostre-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=893 STORY 1 It is April 12th 2020, Ess Mae Murard walk by her Easter painting aside her grandchildren. The boy ask: “I never seen that painting before” “No you have not Hakim, it is one I did a while back but I only present it for Easter”: gently replied Ess Mae. “Why grandma S?”: reply a girl. “I was going to ask that Shaniqua!”: cut in Hakim. “No need to shout Hakim, it was a good question anyway right?”: Grandma Ess tickle Hakim and Shaniqua, either laugh. Grandma Ess continue: “to answer the question you both want to know, I must go back to earlier days”. She take a photo off a desk. “Grandpa Clay!”: reply both children in unison. “yes, your grandfather with me before church,1947, I was a little sad, a commission I was hoping to get was obtained by D. Scott, made me quite mad”: recall grandma Ess, and she continue: “We went to church, your grandpa Clay had to do some work in a white man’s house, So I chose to go to St. Nicholas park and sit to gather my thoughts and that is when I saw her…”: the children are attentive:“Eostre”:the children interrupt Grandma Ess. “who is Eostre”:ask Hakim. “yes, please tell us grandma S”: Shanique pull on her grandmother’s arm. Grandma Ess continue: “… hmmm, well, at first I did not know who she was and I said, nice hat, she found that amusing and seemed interested in what I had to say… I learned she was the Earth”: the children look confused and Grandma Ess continue: “well, the spirit of the Earth who once every turn around the sun makes an appearance as a human to humans” Grandma Ess look to the children who are still confused, and smile. She continue: “think of it like this, we live on a planet, called Earth, and she is living so, she has a spirit, but her spirit is special, not like a humans, her spirit can inhabit many kinds of bodies.” “why grandma Ess”: ask Shaniqua. “The earth is very old and powerful, I can not explain all in why Earth reacts the way it does in any way… but we talked about many things, and when she was done she offered me a chance to paint her” “So that is her, the spirit of Earth”: ask Hakim. “hmmm rather, that is the form the spirit of Earth took”: reply Grandma Ess. “but why only show it during easter”: ask Shaniqua. “well”: a car horn cut off Grandma Ess, and she speak to the matter: “you two, lets go , we can talk about it later ,lets go outside”: she take a photo. The three leave the house and meet a woman waiting by a wall. “come on Ma!”: speak the woman. “coming chile, now go on you two, go to your mother”: suggest Grandma Ess, but Hakim shake his head and Shanique tighten her grip. “So you two want to bother your grandmother about something, alright, but just get in the car, ok”: and after the mother speak, the grandchildren usher into the car quiet and wait for grandma Ess. … while driving to church Grandma Ess was active on her tablet and asked the children: “you two ready to learn why that painting can’t be shown”. “I see now what is going on”: the children’s mother smile. “Don’t say anything mommy”: request Shaniqua. “yeah, we want to hear it from grandma”: demand Hakim. “ok ok, may I listen to”: ask the mother, and the children nod. Grandma Ess smile and say: “take a look at the image on the tablet”: and she hand the tablet to the children in the back seat. Hakim plus Shaniqua look at the image. Grandma Ess begin to finish her story: “well… once long ago, great birds existed, these birds could be ridden like a horse. Humans lived well with adult ones but could never breed children, but it didn’t matter for they continued to be born in the wild, until one day…”: the children gasp in preparation and grandma Ess continue: “the earth changed. These birds had only one nesting ground, and it was destroyed in a great earthquake, that burned the sky so none could fly away… the humans who used these birds was very angry cause these birds was the only way they could reach some of the remote locations where they lived. They asked the Earth to make more of the birds to restart their bloodline… but the Earth refused. The humans who rode these birds, became very angry and cursed all our mother… do you have an idea why the painting can not be seen now?” Hakim think, but shake his head. Shaniqua think and say:“ the eggs? ” “Yes, Shaniqua”: smile Grandma Ess, Hakim cry out in agony, their mother laugh. “But, those little eggs in the painting are the eggs of those huge birds” “no, but they are the map… The Eostre made a map of eggs, utilized correctly, which I will not say how, they provide a map, the painting gives clues to those who know, thus the spirit of Earth demanded I not make that publicly shown… and I have kept my promise, and as your mother has kept it , I demand you two” Shaniqua plus Hakim smile: “yes grandma Ess” “Ok guys, we at church your” “Daddy!”: yell the two children in unison cutting off their mother’s instruction. The mother open the car doors and the children are out; she blow a kiss to her husband. “You know my sweet Roe, you can make a few more eggs for me to tell my story too”: explain Grandma Ess to her daughter. “Momma , I am not going to be laying tons of eggs, I know you and Rick been talking and plotting, now enjoy your church, I will be back to take us all to Black Fort for lunch”: say Roe, as she watch her mother exit the car and meet up with the husband plus kids. STORY 2 Each child from Earth is part in a community and between each perihelion the Earth must speak to each child's community at least once, per the agreement with the Sun. In the oldest swamp from Earth the human season come again, the time of Eostre, when the spirit in Earth take a humanoid form to speak to her human children. She slowly form the body deep in a swampland so thick, the morning sun seem a sunset. It is said if you are lucky to witness the spirit of the Earth before she settles her form, the Earth will allow you to take a piece from in her. But, I myself have never been able to witness such a thing to prove it myself. The spirit of Earth, after forming the body, begin to walk out from the swamp to speak to the humans. She meets a hare, basking in the sunlight. The hare turn to look to her and cognize her immediately. It hop to her feet and ask:" what can I do for the earth Spirit". The Eostre ask the hare:" please take me to the human tribe". The hare bow and escort The Eostre out the swamp, out the wood and into a human roadway. A human man turn a sharp corner near the wood exit and is astonished at the figure before him. He ask The Eostre if he can take a photo of her. She nod her head. He ask her to take a look at it. He ask her name, and she look down at the Hare, who head shake in disagreement. The man sulk off looking at the photo. The Eostre look down at the road and ask the hare: "how far are the humans from their.... road" "Not far earth spirit, about ten thousand hops, but beware humans wearing odd smelling metal clumps" And The Eostre leave the hare, at the side of the road. The Eostre walk and walk, observing the humans in cars going by. In the late morning, she observe a small human girl carrying eggs in one hand, picking up an egg in the other. The Eostre go over to the girl and ask: "why did you take that egg and have an egg basket?" "Its easter": the little girl reply. "YEs, I know but egg is meant to be cared for not, thrown about, you never know what kind of life it may bring" The little girl stand confused or bored. The Eostre ask her to sit the egg she just found down. After the little girl did, the Eostre tap her foot once and the egg grow, and grow, wiping away decorations and a small dragon pop out. The little girl is very happy, even though the baby dragon tried to snap her finger off; she place the baby dragon in her egg basket. And, grab The Eostre hand and say: "Please, come home, my parents will love to meet you, my dad does magic and my mom loves dragons" "you think it is wise for your mom to see a dragon" "yes, lets go": and the little girl drag The Eostre to her home. The little girl ask The Eostre to notice the eggs on the table and say: "my dad made them" The Eostre look at the eggs and smile. You know, it will be good to talk to your parents. And The Eostretime happened successfully, albeit an initial shock of nudity from the parents to the little girl.

The June Solstice is between June 20th and June 22nd , in 2020, is on the 20th, it will be in the moment 5:43 PM on Saturday In the northern hemisphere summer begin, in the southern hemisphere winter begin. The sun will appear to be at its highest point in the sky in the northern hemisphere, the lowest point in the sky in the southern hemisphere. In parallel, during the December solstice, in the northern hemisphere it begins winter, in the southern hemipshere summer The sun will appear to be at its lowest point in the sky in the northern hemisphere , while the highest in the southern hemisphere EQuinox, the path of the sun crosses the equator of earth extended out into space or the celestial equator. Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-june-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=909 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-june-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=910 STORY 1 It is a day all the green blooded know well. It is when the light shine highest above for those who live above earth’s waist. A sunflower look up and wonder what it’ s life will be. Will it get to grow old and watch seedlings make good on their journey or will it be other. It can not be certain. Suddenly, it feel torn from the earth. Someone blindsided it. The sunflower yell out, who. The rapist turn it and give a smile. The sunflower is not amuse. The rapist place the sunflower in a glass basket. The flower protest to no reply, after being walked around by this abuser, for a seeming eternity. Then the sunflower is present to a human woman. The human woman is not happy at the first encounter, the sunflower is not either. What does this human want with me, it thought? The human woman eventually accept the imprison sunflower, calling it beautiful. The sunflower notice the light off her face and recall stories from the butterflies about the sides of mountain ranges on clear days. The butterflies said to the sunflowers, if you ever see a glint of light brighter than the sun off a mountain, that glint is the sign of a mountain in love. It makes a glint so that the mountain it is in love with can notice. One butterfly said she saw another mountain reply under a deep blue clear sky, a brown mountain, glittering with various minerals, made two glints in reply. The butterfly said it crossed a big ocean to see this. When a sunflower asked, how can the mountains meet, what babies can they make? The butterfly said, they meet through the distance. Mountains are so sensitive they can make connections across great distance and as for children. They ask a midwife, usually a volcanic mountain, to take their love in the earth’s blood and make a new mountain for them. The sunflower thinking on the oldest mountain clans stopped as it notice it is alone in a human kitchen. It enjoy facing the sun, highest in the sky. Suddenly, someone turn it to face them. The sunflower is not amuse. But when the interloper smile the sunflower remind itself to what a mountain lion said. A mountain lion said it was chasing wild sheep one time. A beautiful baby black sheep was separated from the pack and facing the mountain lion went off a cliff. The baby sheep fell in mud. And had so much fun it was smiling and giggling, not noticing the mountain lion, smacking its lips. The mountain lion checked the ground to make sure it evaded the mud, for slippage or a loose area. When the mountain lion made a run for the meal, some mud reached out from the ground and smacked it. The mountain lion realized the mud had become the protector, the skin, of the black sheep. A beautiful powerful skin that can not be defeated easily. And the mountain lion left. The sunflower thought on the location of that sheep and its clan, who put on the mud, distinguishing them from other black sheep. But, a discussion between the two human women broke the sunflower’s train of thinking. The human woman it was given to is upset with the interloper, and point to her watch. The interloper make some gesture of hands, sunflowers never comprehend human movement. Suddenly, the interloper grab the sunflower, the sunflower tell her to stop. The sunflower want more sun. But the interloper does not heed her. And, she carries the Sunflower about for a seeming eternity. The sunflower dour mood was interrupted by a sudden feeling. The ebbing sun, it ask the woman to turn it to the sun, but to no avail. The sunflower is turn to a woman, the ebbing sunlight crowning her head. The sunflower is too angry to speak. But the waiting woman is gentle and give the sunflower a kiss. The kiss is so wet or succulent, it remind the sunflower to a story a baby snake told. The baby snake said it grew up around a brown river, brown since ancient times. After the baby snake was born it was told by mama snake to make its way in the world, crossing the brown river. Mama snake told all her babies, trust the river, it is our clans friend. The baby snake trusted naturally and went on its journey. A wicked fox, notice the baby snake, and leap from the green to pounce. Luckily the baby snake was close enough to other green to slip through the fox’s paw. The fox did not give up and leap into the ancient brown river after the baby snake. The baby snake remember the chant mama snake always sang while she was pregnant. “G⁠r⁠e⁠a⁠t⁠ ⁠a⁠n⁠c⁠i⁠e⁠n⁠t⁠ ⁠b⁠r⁠o⁠w⁠n⁠ ⁠r⁠i⁠v⁠e⁠r⁠,⁠ ⁠p⁠r⁠o⁠te⁠c⁠t⁠ ⁠me⁠,⁠ ⁠li⁠k⁠e⁠ ⁠m⁠y⁠ ⁠a⁠n⁠c⁠e⁠s⁠t⁠o⁠r⁠,⁠ ⁠First⁠ ⁠s⁠na⁠k⁠e⁠.” And the ancient brown river, swirled the fox who leap out after, and the baby snake go through the river gaining a brown color that it has ever after, a power gain through the ancient river’s kiss. The two face the sunflower to the sunlight off the moon which waken the sunflower from memory. And the sunflower relax having one high flying day. … Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 STORY 2 An old sunflower, waken with the high sunlight. It know that today is the day the prisoner of the light is allowed to exit her prison. The sunflower watch as the prisoner take full form over a pool of water. The prisoner look at her reflection in the pool. The woman pull down and off her 1960s miniskirt, place the love beads gently on top, and run. The sunflower watch her leave out of sight, and retain the view to the sun. The woman run to the shore, smelling the great sea. Noticing the coast after two mile, she keep going, knowing time is of the essence. She stop on the edge of the land, the sea fronting her. She dive into the water and swim, going farther and farther south. She inhumanely, go to depths where the sea greens grow large or free from human involvement. She search for something in the green sea. Searching and searching, knowing time is not on her side. She suddenly swim to a place and take something from the sea. She swims northward and northward to the substrate of sky plus sea. A small boat, a lone fisherman, see the female. She does not move but the man seem pleasant and greet her in a human language she know. She wait and the boat arrive. The fisherman help her out the ocean. He is very old and say, he always prepare to meet a mermaid. He hand her a red dress and she smile at him, but say nothing. She point to the shore and he comprehend. While on the way, he tell her that none of his drink mates will believe he met a real mermaid, and she smile. When they reach the shore, he tell her to be safe, while he go back out to catch a late fish. He promise to come by this coast when he is done to make sure she is safe. The woman take a lock of her hair and give it to the fisherman who smile. After the fisherman is out of sight, she sit and open up what she find in the green sea. It is a book and she read as the sun go to setting. Before the Sun finish setting she run back to the pool, and grab her other clothes and love bead necklace, with tears rolling down her face and a bright smile. If you like more of my stories check out my Short story collection series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 And I am on Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 My blog https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

Aphelion is between July 3rd and July 6th in 2020 it was on July 4th 11:04pm in 2020, the Aphelion for earth is when the earth is farthest from the sun, in its eliptical orbit. If you consider the Perihelion the beginning of a year, then the Aphelion is the trust midyear point. Every planet around the sun has an aphelion. Earth's moon like all other moons has a similar action, called an apogee to a planet, where a moon is farthest from the planet it rotates around, by having an elliptical orbit. Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-aphelion-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=923 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-aphelion-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=924 STORY 1 It is afternoon, a day on earth, a black woman sit in solace; Kalima look toward her photo of a prior penumbral eclipse, made in a roadtrip across the usa. She continue to ignore the yells from her sanguine downstairs; they are ready to go to the July 4th Fireworks parade. “COME ON!!!… I know you can hear me K! We are now in phase three and I want us to enjoy being outside, none of us have been out in months! PLEASE!” Kalima lay back on her bed and put on a video online. She can hear shuffling feet leaving the front door of the brownstone while she watch. She whisper: “see you soon” and continue to watch. At the end of the video she sit at her writing desk and take out paper and pencil and ruler; she compose a poem using looped cursive penpersonship on clear paper using the ruler she crafted as a guidetool. A male red winged blackbird sitting on a tree branch outside watch Kalima and see the following on the page, Kalima finished. I know I’m free, while in an unfree place To live in a free place… I must rally Against Time’s steady pace, mortality What certainty? The best finishing place Choices I see? Bliss be the unfree place Bliss out the unfree place, which choice is me? History state no case… I must rally Blind gamblin’ me, both length may eat my race A bird yell free! I wingless… stall my race Wait in the unfree place, one day for me I see Time with it’s pace, safe while I see I will rally, to live in a free place The small uncaged passerine fly away, singing. Kalima look to the window and go to her bed, and lay thinking, and sleeping. … A gentle nudge and a wet kiss on the cheek, wake Kalima up, from a figure unknown of body while familiar in voice. “Come on K, we are all back now, we want to tell you about our trip, especially little Bee” “Oh, hey Ma” Kalima plus her mother embrace. “Here is some chocolate bars, colored like the flag, I know! but Mister Mohammed made them and I know you support Black business” Kalima took a whiff of the chocolate, and smiled with yummies. Her mother pass her a photo of the clan, taken by uncle george. And, Kalima’s mother pass Kalima another of a firework by uncle george. Kalima’s mother continue: “Fun…We will meet you downstairs and you can tell us about tonights eclipse ok” “It’s late, little Bee will want to stay up, so we need to get the hammock out for him” “ok”: Kalima’s mother leave, and Kalima look to the moon. Kalima place her chocolate in her minifridge and open her door to the sound of laughter and joy. She smile in the night, for another day. … Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 STORY 2 "It is really hot today": say a woman, chocolate skin sweating under an early June sun, her hand attach to another; she continue: "you need water raspberry pie" "No mommy": say a little girl, same kind of skin, sweet or moisture, her frizzes capping her head. The two keep walking on a simple dirt road, green trees adorning either side. "Momma, Grandpa once said Tinkerbell was American" "Of course, what did he say exactly": the mother giggle. The little girl smile and imitate her grandfather's gestures: "An American Tinkerbell is like a woman, like Tinkerbell with a red white and blue bikini on, don't mind seeing that all out Raspberry... yeah, Tinkerbell on the beach" The mother shake her head gently and say: "Your grandfather, called everything, like a woman, France, Joy, The spirit of America" "How did he describe the spirit of America Mommy": the daughter giggle. The mother smile and imitate her father's gestures: "The Spirit of America is like a woman, like a woman with a luscious afro with decorative hairpins like stars floating around her hair, she sits on a bed of fifty stars connected to the cosmos, and has a cape, like superman, but grander with the red and white stripes, feet bare and dangling like godiva chocolate statues waiting to be eaten...yeah, stylin spirit of America" The mother continue: "I know he was referring to your great gran, she had the best afros" "I love GG": say a stoic little girl. "I love her too baby": equal in solemnity, say her mother. The two walk and finally reach the house. Suddenly a man appear from behind a bush. "You too need a glass of lemonade, try this homemade blend" The little girl look toward her mother who release her arm, and she lunge for the lemonade and start to drink. The man patiently wait while he get a kiss on the cheek from the mother who take her glass of lemonade. The little girl finish and the man inquire: "well..." "It's a little tangy, not perfect Uncle": and the little girl smile. Her uncle throw down his hat in disgust and she continue: "You will get there uncle, we believe in you, you will make the perfect lemonade one day" "Ahh... thanks Raspy, come on and help me with the cooking for the party later" And the uncle and niece go to the back of the house, while the mother head to the far side. She soon notice her father's old car sitting in shiny glory, being taken care of by her brother Nicodemus. The mother sit in the car and remember when she showed her parents, her first paid commission, the spirt of america. They made a cake for her and celebrated. She remember her father said: "I knew I was right, I may have not gotten the description incorrect, it seems the spirit of america is like lady liberty in her teenage years, no crown or lamp, hair flying, wearing wonder woman's clothes, wonder woman wouldn't mind and she needs the vibranium, can't imagine the skin getting cracked and she being chosen to stand before new york city, but, she is still, like a woman... yeah, the badass spirit of america" The mother hyper ventilate and start to cry. She think to the day after when her father no longer said anything was like a woman. Between the heat side her sadness she fall asleep. ... "Mommy!... mommy... MOMMY!": speak a little girl to her mother. "hey my sweet Raspberry": the mother gently waken. "Daddy say you need to eat... and here": the little girl kiss her mother. "Ohh... thank you, give him this for me... and I want you to have fun with the firecrackers, with all your cousins and everybody, ok": the mother after taken the plate, hug her daughter tightly. "Ok mommy, I love you" "I love you" "Don't be sad mommy": the little girl say walking away. "I am not my little light in the sky, just remembering... go on now" The mother eat a little food and place the plate on the dashboard, and lay back in the seat, back to sleep. "Nzinga...why aren't you eating Nzinga": a gentle voice speak to the mother. Nzinga open her eyes and is in amazement. "Pa..." "Hey , surprised huh, do you know some people where I now live visit loving ones during the aphelion" Nzinga is still in shock looking at her father. He continue: "... you know, when the earth is farthest from the sun, but it seems to only work when one is missed a lot... and I am not even like a woman" Nzinga lunge and embrace her father in the driver's seat. "I miss you papa" The spirit embrace his daughter and say: “ I know Nzinga, but no need, I am here just for a short while for a chance to get you not to miss me so much" "How long?!": energetically state the daughter. "Maybe only an hour" "What will we do?" "Drive around of course": Nzinga's father clip the seatbelt, and she smile, and he continue: "this is my car, that is a pretty special moon there". Nzinga look to the moon as her father stare at it. Nzinga's father say while she look to the moon: "It will be nice having the penumbral eclipse escort us for our short time" Nzinga become stoic: "why won't you come back..." "I am having too much fun with your mother" Nzinga burst a laugh. Nzinga's father continue: "oh and she told me to give Raspy a message, she loves telling her stories in her dreams" Nzinga's father start the car, and Nzinga look back. He say: "Don't worry, let the magic happen" "Death has not seemed to stop your sense of wit papa" "Well, my little light, let me tell you something, ok, Death, is like a woman..." ... Hope you enjoyed reading If you like more of my stories check out my Short story collection series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 And I am on Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 My blog https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

September Equinox is from september 20th to september 24th it was in 2021 september 22nd 13:31 UTC equate to 8:31 utc-5, it is the beginning of fall in the northern hemisphere, spring in the southern hemisphere < http://www.astropixels.com/ephemeris/soleq2001.html > share photos of art OR text of fiction The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo or any craft depicting Black people in spring in the southern hemisphere, any country <south america/caribbean/africa/south asia/australia> OR Black people in fall in the northern hemisphere, any country <north america/europe/northern asia> The text can only be fiction based on the following: Black person or peoples at the first day of spring or fall Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-september-equinox-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=948 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-september-equinox-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=949 STORY 1 I remember the autumn gatherings when I was a girl; sparkling gala’s where my parents dressed me plus my siblings in glittering attire. I loved it. I felt always like a princess. The pumpkin pie, the cranberrry sauce, the rice pudding, the apple custard, the watermelon slices, the corn bread … I loved it all. A peaceful rearing for me, the magic was in merely being alive; I had no need of unicorns from mystical worlds gated in forests or aliens from beyond the sky or anything unearthly. I had a brilliant summer, and now my Autumn. My autumn is simple and in continuity, a life from a woman alone. My job I like to do while it pay the bills, allow me to save, and give me time off. I am unmarried, but I have all sorts of comforts: masculine,friendly,inhuman; I am not alone. I am the autumn, and I am at peace as when I was the summer. Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ STORY 2 An autumn wind speak this morning. It speak that the autumn is here for good, until the winter wind come. Let me boil some syrup. I need to get the wood, give me a moment. <Sniffle> I remember when I came here. The tantalum rush was amazing. Can you imagine a stream of automated vessels, frozen bodies inside , risking fate, between harvested body parts to raided goods to slavery on an A.B. hideaway , streaming from the spaceport in Addis Abeba to Beijing2 on Europa. I recall viewing it,nightly, with my ElectronMacroscope, from here on Titan. Few of those brave travelers made it here; the terraforming of this moon was the last initiative of the United Nations before the fall. But, millions came to this moon for the Tantalum. I worked my way here: a labor ticket to the moon from Earth, thirty years serving Senor Quetza who is still a lunar lord, paid my way to the graneries of mars for thirty years of overseering the self-automates, then enough money to take a long arc frozen trip around the AB and the battles of Jupiter. From out of my mother's womb to Titan took ninety one years. At seventy-eight I was content. I never found a woman on the way who wanted eternity with me or likewise. I helped a few people become mature. But, I just wanted to reach this place. Took me five years but I found this little enclave between mountains, no Tantalum, but everything I truly wanted. Some place to rest after a life lived. I hear something. I am getting dressed to go out. Sometimes my fellow minors lose themselves in their depression. <creeeeek> I don't see anyone. ... I hear it again. Let me check the river. Ahh.... The Autumn Deer is looking at me from the frozen mist down the mountain in the nearby wood. Amazing how the deer evolved here. "Hello Friend!" Ahh, he is going into the ice blue mist. Enjoy life my friend, as I have. If anyone find my audiorecordings this land is in your caretaking. The tantalum can not be mined forever. And the beauty here can not outlast the dying sun, but will last longer. Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

The December Solstice occurs between December 20th to December 22nd in 2021 was December 21st 11:19 pm EST or UTC-5 , it is the beginning of winter in the northern hemisphere, summer in the southern hemisphere share photos of art OR text of fiction The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo or any craft depicting Black people in summer in the southern hemisphere, any country <south america/caribbean/africa/south asia/australia> OR Black people in winter in the northern hemisphere, any country <north america/europe/northern asia> The text can only be fiction based on the following: Black person or peoples at the first day or summer or winter STORY 1 : https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-december-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=963 Story 2: https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-december-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=964 STORY 1 “Look up mommy”: speak a voice, looking up, in the night. “I see the conjunction; do you remember the planets?”: speak an older voice, looking down at her daughter. “umm yes, Mshtari and… and, don’t say it! Zohari” “Very good… do you want to hear a story about them?” “yes” A blanket covers the two as a third sit down next to his wife in the blanket; he says nothing while looking up. The mother clears her throat. “Once many, many, moon turns ago the planets, who were young then, made forms to travel beyond their bodies and record experiences, Zohari chose a form and wanted to experience the ability to play find and seek with the Sun” “While the avatar to Zohari was on a way to Ra, Mshtari made an avatar. ” “Mshtari wanted to play shadow evasion with the Sun. And the avatar of Mshtari intercepted the avatar of Zohari. The two avatars need not speak; they knew their intentions and they began to fight. The avatar of Ra noticed the battle while waiting in its crown. ” “The avatars fought with so much passion, they brightened all of space. That grabbed the attention of Hathor, of the old divinities. She appeared about Ra.” “She spoke to Ra and suggested a solution. Since the two are fighting over hiding in the dark or staying in the light, why not make it where they both can have fun. Ra did not know how. Hathor answered, what if you use a planet. With Zohari’s avatar on the side not facing you and Mshtari’s on the side facing you, you can search for Zohari while dance with Mshtari. Ra liked the idea and flew to the fight. The two battling avatars agreed and their spirits soon separated, dimming the heavens. And all three ended up playing on every planet they can find. Till they ran out of energy and needed to go back to their sources.” And the two parents, sandwiching thier child, cuddled tighter and looked up to the old light. If you enjoy my stories and want to read more consider the following Illustrated fables, from a city near you https://www.kobo.com/ebook/concrete-fables The Goods News through the year- stories throughout the calendar https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-december-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/ STORY 2 It is the shortest night in Avare, in Sao Paulo in Brazil, a farmer walk to a simple orange tree, growing away from the grove. The sun sets and the stars brighten as they get their chance to gather. The farmer begins to grab stars and place them into the tree, where they can talk and gossip the news across eons. The farmer listen into a faint star dangling low near the base of the tree. "I recall the Lonely Man, the two Weepers and the Three Brothers of the Rim, looking across my universe...the glare of our light never allowing him to see anything ahead, his back eternally fixed" "...He was still looking out, when I came here, bitter, angry" The farmer walk out to the edge of the tree and grab a star, and it speak to him. "I am a member of the Golden Ladle... my cousins, the dippers, tell me many sailors find their way, using them, on this world...but I know a world where the skies decides where the sailors sail" "A sky of said world tried to discover what effect we stars had on their fellow skies. It measured distances and changes, the sailors of said world loved that sky cause it was calm at sea level, allowing the lesser winds to govern the actions above the sparkling sea... that begins the legend of Narda the sailor and the seas of night... now place me there" And the farmer, place the star where it gleamed to. Suddenly, a number of stars laughed on a lengthy branch. And the farmer edged close to overhear a particularly glinty star "...alright, alright, remember all of you flashes, everything I say is the truth... I once saw the spirit of the existence, that is right... the spirit of existence, which turned from a star brighter than my dreams into some image of a fleshy female creature, was talking gibberish." "Everything the spirit said was gibberish, just a flickering about. I asked it, what is the problem? That is right, I am a gentlestar. The spirit suggested some fleshy male creature, tricked it. I said impossible. I told the spirit of existence, my cousin is what those fleshies call the north star, if it shine bright with me, it will forget all of the tricks of the crawlers. So, the spirit of existence, chose to shine with me. Yes, that is right, it shined with me, and me alone. No one else saw because the rest of you were busy talking to yourselves, not gleaming all around you. I of course, am aware of what is going on and saved all your lives. The spirit even touched me with a flare. Yes, it did and said, my simple focus inspired it to select me to have a child. We will call it, Horus or Hercules or something. Shut up Cassia! Your just mad you didn't get a chance with the spirit" And the farmer chose to move on and pick another star. For when the night end, only oranges will exist where the stars were. A juice not to be sold, but savored. If you enjoy my stories and want to read more consider the following Illustrated fables, from a city near you https://www.kobo.com/ebook/concrete-fables The Goods News through the year- stories throughout the calendar https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-december-solstice-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/

Native American Harvest Art Thanksgiving is the final thursday in November share photos of art OR text of fiction The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo concerning Native Americans enjoying food only -can include Black seminoles- no colonists from europe The text can only be fiction based on the following: Native Americans communities around harvest - black seminoles allowed- no colonist from europe https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-native-american-harvest-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=961 STORY I remember when I saw Hialeah after waking up. The members of the raiding band cautiously behind me. She was cooking food for all. I knew few english words, my name being John; but she didn’t mind. I met her eyes and she already knew mine. We fell in love, and I joined her raiding party. We survived tons of gunfire as colonist numbers grew and grew. We even got through a pregnancy in a winter woods in the MicMaq lands now called New England. Aponi, our little treasure, skipping in the snow. Hialeah’s feet after the pregnancy always needed extra comfort. I had to make special shoes for her. Then, the colonists in 1775 finally wanted to not be english. We talked about what we should do. She reminded all of us, her people were assaulted by the colonist and had to flee. The colonists fable of being aided is their version of saying they stole from native people. Her people of the Powhatan Confederacy had to protect our food from colonists, who eventually raided across the Tsenacommacah and made it Virginia. She will never forgive the colonists, whether they call themselves english or american. And the persistence of their myth of friendship, sickens her very soul. I agreed, some others joined me and her, but most chose to go farther west. I didn’t know about my people across the great water, but I will never forgive the colonists, no matter what they call themselves either. And, we few went south. We were at the battle for Jersey. I even saw a flamboyant soldier defend against the colonists. After meeting Richard Freeman, he told me that Ethiopia is a place across the big water. Since I never heard of a place across the great water where I came from before, I called myself John Ethiopia. And then, the war got worse. My beautiful land was shot during a raid, I held our butterfly, as her mother sung her last song to her. And, in 1783, the war ended. Me plus our daughter, the last of our band, were sent to Nova Scotia. The cold was too much for the little butterfly and she died. Alone, cold, my memory of her with our little life losing color or definition in the last thoughts in my life. My spirit now gives thanks not living under the colonists, as their kingdom grew. A kingdom full of thieves. I give thanks for being eternally free from its lies, side my loving wife and child. Beyond the confines or the reach of the eagle. Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

November 11 Veterans day is November 11th, share photos of art OR test of fiction, guest comments are allowed The photos can be to->sculpture/knitting or sewing/graffiti/tattoo concerning Black Veterans, any country any time, any army The text can only be fiction based on the following: Black Soldiers who fought against the USA for the british/ Black soldiers during the Haitian Freeing/ Black Seminoles during the time of osceola/jonas caballo/Black soldiers who fought for Menelik II in the first Abyssinian-italo war story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-veterans-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=959 story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-veterans-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=960 STORY 1 A teenage boy sit side his parents in a living room, surfing the net while eating breakfast, the quiet is nullifying. He see a trailer for a film. “Black people in Mexico!… you hear this”: the teenager shout. “yes, you didn’t know, Hakim”: pleasantly inquire his mother. Hakim father chime in a vocal gesture, a nod, and words: “Black people live, all over, the earth, always have, always will” “You guys didn’t tell me about that” The parents look to each other, and the father speak: “now you know”: and the father laugh. “Can either of you tell me more about them” “I will go make muffins Sweets”: and the father begin to leave the living room. “Ok Cowboy…You see that envelope Hakim… yes, open it and pass me the photo inside… thank you, this is your grandfather, he fought in what you were taught is called World War 2” “it wasn’t called that” “not to him, he said, Black folk all around the world been at war and still at war with whites for hundreds of years, no one called that a world war… you know, he died when I was a little older than you, I missed him a lot, you want to know how I saw him later, and how it relates to Black Mexicans” Hakim give a nod and his mother tell a story. A girl cry in her room unaware of, what she will do or be, where she can go. She look through a photograph book and see her mother side Aunty Bessie, when they served in world war 2. https://todaysdocument.tumblr.com/post/189791629093/ltjg-harriet-ida-pickens-and-ens-frances She remember her father telling her: “Never join the military Dulce, never, never serve another unless it is for your own safety, don’t let your enslavers sell you their lies till you can’t eat anything else, I was forced, like many, don’t do it unless they force you to” Dulce’s mother was less clear; she suggested to Dulce: “I know your father’s ways but no matter what you do, I will accept it” But Dulce want to uphold her father; she want to uphold his truth; her problem is few opportunities exist outside joining up. Dulce does not want to clean homes. Dulce does not want to open doors. Dulce does not want to be a secretary. Dulce want to play basketball; no female teams exist, even though she play side all her friends in South Essex. Dulce continue to cry, nearly twenty and unsure. The rain pour over everything outside. Dulce hear droplets from the crack in the window; she has to close the window so the rain do not come in. At the window she see an odd member in the graffiti on the back side of Uncle Benny’s Ice Cream Parlor. It wink at Dulce; and she go outside to take the trash; her mother call out her name at the back door; she reply, just taking out the trash ma, and get a simple affirmative. In the back alley she approach the graffiti soldier. His eyes look to her, she shuffle backward and gasp, and he speak: “Glad you came out to see me, glad you got your hood, preparation is good for any soldier” Dulce look about worried: “am I in the Twilight Zone or something” “No need to worry young one, but your father told me all about you” “My Daddy… but he” “is dead? yes, but what most of you living folk don’t know is, when a soldier dies, part of their spirit is unrest till their country is found” “my daddy was an american citizen” “yes, he was, but…” “he never loved the usa” “thus, the part of his soul that is a soldier has no country, think of it, like a spiritual veterans day, you living folk honor the soldiers who live based on your rules of citizenship, but we spirits, honor the soldiers who died based on the countries they were fighting for, take my hand” Dulce step back again. “I want to take you to your father” Dulce step forward, and again, and again, and take the outstretch hand of the graffiti soldier. Dulce and the Graffiti Soldier begin to walk in the spirit world, hand in hand. “Don’t worry, you are only in here because of me, if you let go my hand, you will be back in the rain, no problem” The two walk about in the forever fading world and she see soldiers, who look like her daddy in uniform. She see soldiers from other times She see soldiers she think is from the war between the states Dulce see soldiers that look like the Graffiti Soldier: “they look like you” “yes, some from the Black Brigade, most of the Ethiopian Regiment” Suddenly, the Graffiti Soldier grab her hand tight and say: “remember, you can’t leave me” Dulce is excited as she see her father, sitting among other troops, about a fire. Dulce father smile bright when he see her and break to only stand firm and salute the Graffiti Soldier:“ Thank you Colonel Tye” “No problem soldier, I wish I could leave you two alone but” “It is alright sir, thank you for this” “Well little one, I will sit here and you can sit beside me while you two talk” Dulce sit side her father while the Graffiti Soldier sit as arm far as possible. Dulce and her father hug: “Daddy I miss you” “I know, the part of me that is your father, your mother’s husband, feels your love all the time, thank you, but know a part of me has a timeless love for you” “Can I help with finding a country” “Well, I know some spirits have been waiting for, well, longer than I can explain, over there are Loyalists, who fought for the British, the country they fought for may never happen, the best stories come from the Black Seminoles, their oldest ones were actually descended from loyalists who are here, can you imagine a family reunion here, truly wild” “Well, can I come back here” “I am being helped by my comrades to do this, I wanted to show you some of those guys over there, Warriors who fought with Jonas Caballo. They died so that Florida could be its own country, where black or indigenous people could live free absent raids or any sort of attack from the usa, they said something special happened” “what tell me please” “well, they say, that the people must have found a home, cause no soldier joined them who said they died out, the last soldier said they were in mexico and were heading south” “Black people in mexico” “well now you know, though I have seen many soldiers, I tell you, Black people live, all over, the earth, always have, always will, just like whitey, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, the whole world has native black or white people, look a little different here or there, but everywhere has black or white people” “Should I tell ma something?” “No need, I see her in dreams… I want you to know, the country I fought for, has never existed, but if you need to sign up, even if you know about this place, do it” “Thanks poppa!”: Dulce embrace her father very tightly: “I still miss you” “I know, you get back in the house ok” Dulce feel Colonel Tye releasing his grip; she try to grab him back but rain pour on her in the back alley, instead. She stand up and lean over to get the rain from falling on her face, and enter back into the house. “Alright everybody! muffins are made”: speak Hakim’s father, entering the living room with a warm buttery smelling plate. He sit down and Hakim ask him as his mother begin a needlepoint: “you know the story of when Ma met OldPa” Hakim’s father laugh. “Ma, is this your home? thank you” Dulce put down her needlepoint: “Well… the home soldiers fight for, thank you… soldiers die for, soldiers return from war to, is not the home of the heart, like our little apartment, it is the home for their people” “But why didn’t you try to find that home…for our people, the home where grandpa’s spirit can be at peace” “I think … that is what your grandpa wanted to tell me, that he will be alright, part of him has eternity to wait and pretty good company, I need to find my home of the heart first, before I can find a home for the people” “I will find the home grandpa’s spirit can return to” Hakim’s father hand him another muffin: “I bet you will, but put some jelly on that first” Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ STORY 2 It is an afternoon sun through calming clouds on the private catholic school Institution Marmoutier , along the Loire river. A boy take his lunch and go to his favorite riverside, alone. He unfurl his mat and lay on it, placing his lunch beside his head, and look to the gentle clouds, tears budding at the corner of each eye. He sniff and take out an earbud to hear a Carl Sagan recording. His dad liked Carl Sagan alot, as a kid his dad listened to Sagan with his grandfather. The youth cover his face using the back of his hand while tears flow down cheeks. Abrupt yelling interrupt his woe. He see a girl running from other girls, and he leave his food and mat yelling: "Arrete!"/"Stop!" He chases them to the abbey; it is quiet cause most of the students are in their rooms or the game room or cafeteria. He go inside the abbey and silence. He see the portrait of Saint Martin, third bishop of this abbey. And he recall his father telling him on his first day at the school. "Souvenez-vous, soyez altruiste, comme Saint Martins"/"Remember, be unselfish, like Saint Martins" He prayed for days that his father will recover and come home, be a veteran. He is afraid of memorial day communication from relatives in New Orleans in the USA. Sobbing interrupt his prayers and he go to it. Nestled in a small corner of a hall is a girl his age, by her dress pattern. He ask: "Qui a fait ça?"/"Who did this?" The girl do not reply but the boy notice blood from her inner right thigh. He take off his jacket and put it over her and rip part of his shirt and give it to her. She wrap her thigh. A chaplain arrive. The boy is nervous. The chaplain place a calm hand up and say: "Sois calme. J'ai vu ce que tu as fait."/"Be calm. I saw what you did." The girl rise and go to the chaplain. He whisper in her ear and she turn slightly, her hands on the jacket. The chaplain calmly dissuade her and she exits out the abbey. "Avec moi"/"With me": gently demand the chaplain to the boy. They walk quietly through the halls and into the chapel. "S'il vous plaît, priez avec moi, là où saint Martins a prié"/"Please, pray with me, where saint Martins did pray" The boy at first kneel and close his eyes, peering slightly to see if the chaplain was doing similar. The chaplain smile while praying and the boy close his eyes. The silence made the boy dwell on his thoughts to his father, and he prayed in earnest after a while, and lost track of time, until. A bell sound a new hour and he rise up. "profiter de l'école, tout ira bien"/"profit from the schooling, all will be well" The boy run to class, an official stand outside the classroom door he run to; his jacket is on a hanger. "bein etudient, aller aller"/"good student, go go" The boy put his jacket on and enter the classroom, and his day progress as most school days do. But, in the evening at his dorm room, a knock on the door. He cut on the light and run to embrace his father. "Vous avez laissé ça dehors"/"You left this outside " The boy smile looking to his father and notice a wrapping; the right thigh of his father has a tight strapping. "Oh, ma jambe, j'ai essayé de sauver la vie d'une fille, elle est morte plus tard d'une explosion, mais je jure, j'ai pensé à elle dans mon coma"/"Oh, my leg, I have tried to save the life of a girl, she is dead after an explosion, but I swear, I have thought to her in my coma" "Merci , Saint Martins" Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

October 31st Halloween, Oct 31st to Nov 1st is Samhain, mid september equinox to december solstice The time of final main harvest before the winter. look at this dog, the ghost:) https://0512-97.tumblr.com/post/631277935457878016 Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-halloween-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=957 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-halloween-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=958 STORY 1 This was the party I planned for months to attend. You have to realize, this woman is so sexy, and is a star trek addict. So, I usually am weak in the knees when I am around her. But she talked about the Halloween Party of the year the second day we met, three month ago. I love Mr. Spock too, but I will be blunt. I never saw a Vulcan as sexy as her. So, here I am. I am prepared to the party. I am dressed as a red shirt, willing to die tonight. I gave her a text and she said she was at the porch with friends. At the stairwell, I glanced at a Cheetara, not really complete; in truth she was more like Fairuza Balk, and I had an issue looking away from her cute face. It didn’t help me that she had a healthiness around her heart. As a gentleman, I smiled and she spoke to me. She said: “hi, my name is Mikaela, will you tell me about your world?” I replied, placing out my tricorder: “I come from earth in this collection of planets called the federation. But I arrived to this planet on a ship called the Enterprise” “Do you want me to escort you around my planet?” “why not, let’s try up there” We walked up the stairs and guided through the collectives of various people. At the top of the stars, we saw a guardian. I spoke in shock to my guide: “who is this, the tricorder says she is full of diakente energy” The guardian twirls and said: “I am Sailor Andromeda, can I be of assistance" I reply: "I have a guide from this world, escorting me around. I am trying to get to the porch, see what the mountains are like” Sailor Andromeda replied: “I will help, follow me” So, we three went to the porch. And I saw my chocolate Vulcan, kissing a male Vulcan. It occurred to me, I never asked her about her private life. I assumed because she never said. I tried to usher my party away but she saw me, and waved. So, I used my tricorder and ventured to her party. I must admit, the greetings didn’t help me. And, I recall little of the Vulcan I wanted’s smile or the smiles of the two other guys that joined us, one to embrace Sailor Andromeda, or the other to embrace my original guide. We ate food, under the moon. We moved our clocks back. And at the end, I hugged all three beautiful women. And went home alone. But I remember the night well because I saw my new neighbor for the first time. And, she happened to want someone to watch her star trek collection. Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ STORY 2 It is the night when the season is between the equinox in September and the solstice in December. The woods are dark or cool. The spirits of indigenous warriors are allowed under the Hunters Moon to inhabit the crows. The march of the pumpkins always arrives through night mid-September equinox or December solstice; they are filled with spirits of children killed before born by the hand of fate. But, in this rare night, the crows found assistance in the crows. Usually, pumpkins have to travel far in the night to get their inner souls released. Most humans these days don't allow pumpkins to be housed for souls, cutting shapes that the spirits can naturally induce. But the spirits in the crows under the Hunters Moons know. And they choose pumpkins to free their spirits; they choose based on how courageous a pumpkin is. One of the pumpkins selected was the first to reach the top of the hill, any hop forward and it will slide down. It tried to help the crows break it free by glowing as much as possible. Eventually, it became free and then absent the pumpkin shell, became a light in the sky. Like all others who became free, it lifted high enough to be seen as a star in the sky by anyone on the ground. And, per fate, a young witch noted the spirit in the sky, like a star. She flew up into the sky and met the spirit and asked it, in an ancient tongue: "young spirit, I lost my ability to have children in an accident but I will love to be your mom, if we work together, I can help you get a body" The spirit reply: "Thank you, I didn't expect to be gathered by a human. I have been on the march for hundreds of years, since Wounded Knee" The witch opened her mouth and the spirit came inside. She slowly descended on her broom with a brightness, and went into her home for a cup of coffee. After a bath in herbal salts, she leaves her home, and sits on the grasses outside her home with a cup of coffee. Butterflies flied about her solar brightness in the evening, a new mother with a child honored by the warriors. The End Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Poetry or More https://www.kobo.com/ebook/poetry-or-more-1 Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

September 21st international day of peace- a story of peace https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-september-equinox-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=947 STORY International Day of Peace story A man one day thought to himself, I will disturb nothing else, while laying in a bed, formerly his. He pee on the bed, defacate on the bed, so that he will not disturb the floor, the door, the world outside. His body hurt when he become hungry and he shake in the bed, stirring in the odor. Finally, he realize he has to disturb where he lay. He can never be completely peaceful, and gets off his bed at peace.

Cat Nights begin on August 17th - display any text or art concerning cats. <Cat Nights begin on August 17. This term harks back to the days when people believed in witches. A rather obscure old Irish legend said that a witch could turn herself into a cat eight times, but on the ninth time (August 17), she couldn’t regain her human form. This bit of folklore also gives us the saying, “A cat has nine lives.” Because August is a yowly time for cats, this may have prompted the speculation about witches on the prowl in the first place. Also, nights continue to get longer. Cats, crepuscular creatures, are nocturnal hunters. Their superior night vision means that the nights belong to them. citing> https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-black-cowboy-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=943 POETRY A Seventeenth Witch It was a quiet morning, in an eighth seventeenth Miss Sarah, a witch, had a really long day A witch, that she is, that she is The clouds full from night dings, all seem calm underneath Miss Sarah, wait an encounter, in the street A witch, that she is, that she is A tree crack begin a sing, mashes like titans teeth Miss Sarah, now no human feet, but purring A witch, that she is, that she is A girl cry, I am falling! shouts from anger bequeath Miss Sarah, know hands weave cruel from the lightning A witch, that she is, that she is Cat shade, spells from lightning cling, in nights eighth seventeenth Miss Sarah, four legged, know where the light land A witch, that she is, that she is Through parks, dodge wild cans, running, past bright cars underneath Miss Sarah, absorb the cruelty fore the street A witch, that she is, that she is Boom! she leap side hot white bling, she fall on concrete teeth Miss Sarah... feel wet licks and a quiet warmth A witch, that she is, that she is Eyes open to soeur earrings, We Won! now eighth eighteenth Miss Sarah, in the pawed coven, knew the price A witch, that she is, that she is A teen wait for a purring, cause her mother bequeath Miss Sarah, in her daughter's arms, now home, safe A witch, that she is, that she is No image through tweet will bring, witch pride last seventeenth Miss Sarah, side sisters, saved all, quietly A witch, that each is, that each is If you see a black, purring, rubbing, please don't seethe Miss Sarah, or sister maybe, just friendly A witch, that she is, that she is from Richard Murray If you want to enjoy more poetry from me, consider the following work Poetry or More - Audiobook series Poetry or More- complete text only

Black Cowboy day- In the USA , National Cowboy day is july 25th so I say, give this day to art, text full of imagination for the black cowboy https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-saint-mary-magdalene-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=938 STORY The world seem dark, stepping hooves are still audible. A hand lift the veil of unending night into a day aside a rodeo troop. “What did I tell you about walkin around when the horses are about with your hat down?” : speak a visibly mature female in an honest rodeo rider gown, gentle while luscious smile absent lipstick, smooth chocolate skin reflecting the light in the day; the little girl she is speaking to shrug her shoulders. “Come on Candace”: speak another female troop member. The little girl, a third candace height or width with hair in a bun while some mud is in her face, look about the troop getting ready. “hey, Emae , be good ok and when we finish the afternoon show I will tell you a story from any card you want”: and Candace get on her horse, in front of the troop. Emae look to Candace horse. “Jambalaya, please take care of Candace” The horse look down to Emae and winkle both nostril. Emae walk around the march and take something from her back pocket; it seem to be a card set. Suddenly, Emae drop the card set with a shimmy. “Beebee!”: Emae shake her head while picking up the remaining fallen card. Beebee sit in the railing and Emae eventually join her. “Why do you take your cards out Em, I keep mine safe” “Cause Candace always gives good information on any one I choose in various times, I must be ready” “I don’t have that one, who is that” “This is Nat Love, my sister said he once jumped off of the Rio Grande Western Railway to catch a horse that was possessed by a vengeful spirit.” “you and your stories”: but Beebee listen. “All are true!, the train was taking magical native american items from Mesa Verde, Colorada to Salt Lake, and from there to New York and go cross an ocean to Finnyland” “Well that explain the horse’s anger” “Yep, the horse was trying to cause an avalanche on the mountain side, but Love waited for it, climbing outside the train cars to the front of the train, and jumped on it, using his years of experience. No one in the company saw him wrassle a horse before. And he and horse tumbled aside the mountain. He was so tough. He saw the spirits in the horse and asked them what was wrong as he rode the bucking beast. GO CANDACE!” Beebee cheer. And, Emae continue talking as they watch. “… backflip it Sara!… well, the spirits spoke to Love and they said, they don’t want to leave thier home. Love realized what needed to be done. The ancient spirits needed another vessel. But with so many spirits in need, the horse wasn’t enough, so Love made a bargain with the spirits. He will offer his body if he fail to return all the spirits to their ancestral home… eventually the train reached Salt Lake and with the spirits help, he acquired a set of horses, more than enough to hold all the spirits with room to spare and he escorted them back to Mesa. My sister said she will tell me how he fought the ghost panther, an ancient enemy of the spirits who tried to stop them from going home” “hmm, I got to get him, I like that one, Ohhh! I love that one” “You got a boyfriend!” Beebee punch Emae on the arm and continue: “My pa always dress up as him for harvest. Do you know about him?” EMae shake her head negatively. “Ned Huddlestone, later Isome Dart, was a thief of the range. He stole thousands of cattle in his lifetime, selling them illegally” “A real dangerous one” “Yes, but his early years proved he had a bright future ahead. During the War Between States, he aided hungry Confederate soldiers while freeing enslaved blacks in Arkansas. What whites didn’t know was he was a double agent, thus the two guns he always sported the rest of his life, one for the northerners and one for the southerners. One time, a wicked whitey named Nathaniel Price tried to undo his plan. He was a union soldier whose family once owned Ned. So he tried to stop his switches of food for people. Whenever Ned got boxes of food, he would organize with the Whispers Road” “Oh I love tales of the Whispers Road” “As you know, the Whispers Roads communicate by marks on trees or homes, but only the members know the places that are meant to be, but after the slaves reached Ned’s location he placed them in the boxes and prepared them for their journey. That is when Nathaniel Price came. He thought with Ned’s back turned he couldn’t attack him. But, Ned both guns ready, but unsure to which could hit, had to try both. He was in front of a old unused hearth in the shed and waited. Nathanial said to him- I got you know nigger, I will take these messages to the union back to their southern masters and their agent will be undone.” Beebee then got off the rail and took a pose facing it and continue: “agent, I am no agent to the north or south, my only goal is freeing my people, by any means necessary- and Ned faster than lightning, took a half step forward with one foot, half step backward with another , turned his torso ninety degrees and unleashed both guns and shot them, the two bullets hit off the old hearth, the southern bullet hit a wooden wall somewhere, but the northern bullet reflected straight on to Nathanial Price and through his scheming heart. ” Beebee then start to walk slow or bowlegged like and continue: “well well, said Ned, it seems you are union after all, well no matter”, and Beebee made gestures with her hands like guns spinning before being holstered and then made a stylish pose. Emae clapped, shaking her legs in the rail. Beebee joined her back on the rail smiling at her successful telling. They both then cheered seeing a trick and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon show. Later, Candace is refresh after the afternoon show and meet Emae at a table: “How is Beebee?” “She’s fine, you were great out there, we will be better than you and Sara one day” “of course you will, you better”: and Candace smile at Emae, and hand her a breakfast. “Thank you … ” “I know, I know, ok, pull the one you want me to talk about… ok… yes, this guy was Bass Reeves”: and Candace give the photo back to Emae. Candace continue, while she sit and eat an apple: “I never told you about him, well, Bass Reeves was a student of a Black Seminole family, led by their matriarch, Llorando Camino, she was a granddaughter to Osceola and chose to lead the Black Seminoles” “I know about them” “yes”: Candace smile:“… the Black Seminoles who were allowed to stay in the territory, while, as you know, the majority of the Black Seminoles followed Jonas Caballo to Mexico and true freedom. Anyway! She taught Bass many things, which she learned in a life fighting US army, bandits, drunkards or any in between, in close combat or the range. After the thirteenth amendment, he left since he didn’t have to worry about being enslaved again, with his skills first and the law second… you want more, well , you better eat and not just look at me talk… he eventually became a us marshall, you see, in the indian territories, many criminals tried to hide and murdered many native americans over the years. Bass never forgot his teacher and helped protect the lands from vile outsiders, one was called Jimmy the Breaker Stone. He came from a family of murderers for hire in europe, known for using their hands to murder people. Jimmy Stone escaped from law enforcers and went into the territory. He was in a cave, only one way in or out, but it had a small break of light inside where it was under a mountain and had a garden in it alongside a stream of water, allowing for food or survival. No one dared go into the Stone Cave as it was known. In the dark, who could face this raw killer. But, Bass Reeves was trained to fight absent the light. He went into the cave with a rope and no gun and three hours later, Jimmy Stone was being dragged out, hogtied. The other law enforcers never forget the face Stone gave Bass, but the words were more potent, The Justice of the Dark… good, nearly finished eating, well I will get ready for my evening show, do you want to wait for me or go back home with grandpa?” “You please”: say Emae with sandwich in the mouth. Candace shake her head and continue: “alright… have another card ready for the road”: and Candace leave Emae at a table. Later in the evening, Emae is playing a game on her mobile video game player in the passenger side of the truck while Candace drive them home, smiling. Emae react to something outside. “Just thunder and lightning Emae”: calmly say Candace. “Its so big” “Ahhh , so you are afraid of thunder and lightning like that” Emae shake her head in confirmation. Candace pull out a card from her shirt pocket and Emae interest rise. Emae take a flashlight out of her carry bag. “This is a luxury edition card” “yes, and who is that” “Will Pickett, bill pickett bill pickett” “good… do you know how he bull dogged the white buffalo?” Emae shake her head in ignorance while smiling. Candace continue: “do you even know the white buffalo? ” Emae ask: “Is it a buffalo with white skin?” “You haven’t been reading the legends book… well, The White Buffalo is not white, it is a buffalo from the spirit world that comes through a gateway made through storms, whenever a storm occurs over these lands, The White Buffalo can come through, all electric” “Like Storm of the Xmen” “Right, but with a body made of electricity and the legends say, if he can get through the gateway a storm will persists until he returns… well, one day, all the ranchers heard of a brewing storm. It was growing between Oklahoma, texas, arkansas and louisiana. Every day getting bigger and bigger. Natives said the White Buffalo is free, he must return to his world. But they were prepared to move as they always have been from ancient times. Ranchers complained about the growing storm destroying their livelihoods. Pickett knew as a ranchhand, he will lose pay and didn’t have anywhere to go. So asked a friend Sam Tootall, to help him speak to the Elders and see if he can help. The Elders agreed to see him and told him that The White Buffalo must agree to go back into its world. With so many of the native people murdered they are unwilling to risk their strongest and will leave as in the past. Pickett comprehended and rode a horse to the center of the storm. While the thunder and lightning was a vibrant symphony, the wind was relatively still, at first Pickett thought it wasn’t there but after patiently waiting he cognized a buffalo shape that will appear at times. He had no weapon but he galloped on his horse in a circle within a white brilliance and when he finally caught a moment where his stride, the buffalo’s motion were in synch, he leaped off his horse and grabbed The White Buffalo by the horns. Pickett’s horse immediately left and the Buffalo bucked upwards as if any piece of sky could be its ground and Pickett held on in the clouds and back near the ground again and again, some Natives recall their forebears saying they saw him in the sky russling lightning. Pickett was getting tired and The White Buffalo seemed to have no end of energy. Pickett then noticed inside the mouth of the White Buffalo seemed more solid and he chose to bite on its tongue. The White Buffalo spent wildly but Pickett held on and rasstled him to the ground. The eyes of The White Buffalo were incredulous. Pickett merely smiled and met his gaze, they seemed to speak without words, and pickett let go of the legendary life form and watched as it went through the gateway, and ” Emae yawn with sleepy eyes. Candace continue: “you like the story… yeah, good, well, Pickett watched the White Buffalo go past its gate and I will tell you how Pickett was given a task by The White Buffalo later to save its child from the Red Cougar later, pleasant dreams” Candace watch Emae nodding while sleep, and drove home. … Sunshine bath Emae in her bed. Suddenly, she get up and exit her room, and run down stairs. “They are gone for today, Candace said she will bring you to another show later, but she is proud you spent all day with her yesterday”: say an elder female voice in a kitchen, sounds of frying food reverberating. Emae look downward. A male elder speak: “Get washed up Em, and come down for your morning meal” “ok Grampie”: Emae walk slowly up the stairs. Fresh, Emae sit down reverse her grandparents. She look to a younger photo of her grandfather. Emae grandfather turn to the wall and smile:“ are you looking at me Em?” Emae shake her head in confirmation and say: “yes Grampie” “Good times, good times”: and he look back to the wall and see another photo. He continue while looking at his wife: “your grandmothers, father did not like me you know Em” “Here we go!”: say the Grandmother. “I am telling it like it is” Emae smile while eating porridge with fruit in it. “I wish I could persuade you to not listen to him Em, but I am fully aware that his storytelling ways is part of the myth telling gene in this house” The Grandfather wink at Emae and say:“Em knows truth when she hear it” “ok, Hector, convince me, of your truthtelling”: and the Grandmother smile, arms in a fold. “See it all began when I first met Mr Lemon, I thought it was funny, calling Mr Lemon, Mr Lime when he got angry, but I didn’t realize that his experiences with various citrus were on the adventurous or personal side because of his father Bob Lemon…” And, Emae sat eating her fruit porridge listening to her Grandfather tell a story to her side her Grandmother. … Thank you for reading, if you want to read more of my work read below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714

Saint Mary MAgdalene- the catholic saint day is the 22nd of july, i say she warrant better, what is your craft to her? https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-aphelion-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=936 STORY Mary Magdalene a little after dawn, in a simple road in the roman empire, recalls her life, and her love. https://www.deviantart.com/tlacuilopilo/art/Mary-Magdalene-portrait-Maria-Magdalena-333225591 She remembers being the daughter of a craftsman, who was also a successful merchant. People from Egypt to Phrygia sought the wares of Magdala. But while most Jewish girls with her fortune thought of marriage. She sought betterment, she sought activity, she sought a better world. https://www.deviantart.com/maoliquiao/art/In-suo-nome-528460920 And then her awakening when mercury, the ancient spirit of messages was furthest from the sun in the sky or closest to humanity, she went into the synagogue and proclaimed to the men, standing where women do not, breaking the mechitza barrier. The men felt humiliated, felt belittled, felt they had been dirtied by her presence. The men did not try to listen to her words, try to listen to her wisdom. They only saw a woman who was wrong, and cast her out of the synagogue and threw stones. But she did not die. She was not killed. https://www.deviantart.com/riekiedp/art/Mary-Magdalene-121544723 Some did not throw stones because they knew her father, some did not throw stones because they knew her, and a strong body was enough to crawl back to her home. Her father was worried. He knew the village will look on her suspiciously and will want to control her life. He told her she must go, to be free, from the eventual persecutions that will come toward her. He knew fully well; he could not protect her when he was away from all harms. And so, she left Magdala. On the road, she met another Mary, many jewish women were named Mary, but this woman was quiet. Her husband was a craftsman and she was delivering a craft to a friend. She saw the Mary from Magdala and her spirit seemed familiar. The older Mary went over to the younger and they talked. The younger Mary talked about a vision she had of a future without boundaries, absent the shackles that bind humanity. The elder Mary asked the younger Mary if she wants to talk to others who may listen. The younger Mary said yes, as they embraced. https://www.deviantart.com/rmarwdraws/art/Mary-and-Mary-Magdalene-847094143 The elder Mary spoke to the inn keep who knew her husband and said to tell her husband she will not be back, but she is safe. Over the next few weeks, Mary Magdalene became well known amongst the disenfranchised or abused women of Palestine. She even was able to communicate to her father who supported her quietly. One day a woman asked, what will all this talk do when we have to go back to the men who abuse us. Mary Magdalene asked elder Mary, is it possible, these women can go to her home on the way south, free from the Jewish rules, in Egypt or beyond. The elder Mary agreed. When the two Mary arrived at the elder Mary's home, they were accompanied by forty women, and a sunlight. A sunlight that can waken anyone from any sleep. Mary bathed in the light, still, and saw a man. https://www.deviantart.com/springergirl07/art/Mary-Magdalene-172730760 He did not need to speak, but his walk seemed so gentle. The elder Mary told Mary Magdalene, this man is her son, Jesus. Mary Magdalene knew this man's calling. She realized what he can do. In a world where men cannot accept leadership from a woman, she saw a man who can, while giving men the face they need to be led a better way. And she gathered the woman in the sunlight with Jesus as the elder Mary watched, and her husband, Joseph, beamed with pride. From town to town, the women of Mary Magdalene spread the gospel or good news of Jesus. Where lepers were isolated, Mary and her women healed or comforted and Jesus was said to do it. Where people were said to be dead, Mary and her women tended them back to life and Jesus was said to do it. When men did not fish properly, Mary and her women, worked the nearby seas aiding the fisherman, and Jesus was said to do it. Mary had watched her movement grow. From one woman, to two women, to a group that threatened the order of things for the Jewish priests. Over time, men like Judas, became part of Mary's apostles, telling the other women, let those without sin cast the first stone. But other men came, at the behest of the jewish priest. Twelve of them came, who knew Jesus was not the miracle worker gossiped or rumored, but it was Mary Magdalene who needed to be stopped. Mary spoke with Jesus and told him, if he rejects these men it will destroy his image and all the work they have done. Thus, Jesus accepted these new apostles and though they tried to corrupt Jesus with gold or positions, he never wavered from the path Mary gave him, for he and Mary were already one in spirit, done beyond a temple/synagogue or place of worship. A simple ceremony under the sun. In desperation the twelve agents of the Jewish Priest, abducted Jesus and put him in the position of a Jewish murderer paying the roman guard to allow the switch. Mary tried to find him; her network unable to access the roman prisons. And then she heard a rumor that a jewish murderer had boasted he was freed for Jesus in a bar. Mary then realized what had happened. But it was too late. When she saw Jesus crucified for another man's crimes, she knew it was a sign. https://www.deviantart.com/dinahmite64/art/The-Eternal-Salvation-Through-His-Passion-598224678 She thought a caring, honest, loving man could be the face of a movement of women. But as she watched his bleeding body, she knew, that asked too much of him. Her father's kindness saved her from stoning the first time. Jesus's love saved her from death the second time. She must have cried all night. The next morning, Jesus's mother woke her. She wanted to know where her son was buried. The two Mary's went to the tomb and Mary Magdalene held her stomach and touched the stone covering the tomb. Suddenly, she had a feeling. And when she turned, she saw her husband. It was like the first time she met him. His mother cried and Mary Magdalene hand embraced his, and she had an epiphany. https://www.deviantart.com/eldidechabo/art/Jesus-Mary-Magdalene-MSPaint-135772731 The two Mary's went back to Nazareth and spread the final gospel, that Jesus was resurrected. The twelve spies weeks later, checked to see if the tomb was empty... and it was. They went to Nazareth to confront either Mary or Joseph but none were there. They had left. The twelve searched and searched and eventually found the male member Judas. He tried to find a woman like Mary to start a new group, with him in the role of Jesus, but was unsuccessful. The twelve tortured Judas but he either did not know or was strong enough to not say the location to any member of Mary Magdalene's sect. The twelve eventually became the originators of Christianity, using remnants of what they experienced, pieces of a true movement to create another, all the while in awe to what they knew. ... while Mary seeing the child between her and Jesus running to her end her remembering https://www.deviantart.com/tlacuilopilo/art/Mary-Magdalene-portrait-Maria-Magdalena-333225591 And, she smiles, in a new town, far from palestine, or the twelve spies, in the outskirts of the roman empire. ... today, few know the truth of Mary Magdalene, the movement she started, or its times. But, the children of her enemies cannot even deny, she was gifted, she had spirit. And, for now, that is enough, for tomorrow will be brighter, and it will shatter all lies with truth. ... ... Hope you enjoyed reading If you like more of my stories check out the gospel of joseph https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/gospel-of-joseph or other stories in my Short story collection series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard Murray Short Story Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 Or poetry in my poetry or more series https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry or More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 And I am on Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 My blog https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/

Juneteenth is July 19th , a day celebrated as the day when all black people in the usa knew that the slave system had been destroyed, not legally abolished, which is the 13th amendment. State text or graphics depicting Juneteenth to you. https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-juneteenth-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=908 Juneteenth books listed on AALBC thanks @Troy [ https://aalbc.com/books/category.php?name=Juneteenth ] Juneteenth Poetry [ https://aalbc.com/tc/events/event/359-the-freemans-complaint-a-late-response-to-the-slaves-complaint-06192025/ ] STORY A twenty something female is playing GloboVans, trying to reach the upper percentile users in life viewers. Her grandparents see her and chant in unison: “Put that game down Karema, we want to spend time with you”. “I can’t you two, I am still on the clock”: Karema reply, linking the television in her room to the computer screen, displaying her Juneteenth town built for her life viewers to watch her avatar, where various firms can advertise or sell products inside. “come on Nicodemus”: say Karema’s grandmother. The two elders smile and go toward the door. “Wait”: say Karema, can you two come back with some family photos about Juneteenth. “Ok K”: reply the grandmother. … “Ok everyone in the Kverse, we have two new members of the village, Nico and Eucy, here to explain these photos” Nicodemus and Euclaire sit with two cameras in front of them, a screen behind the camera offering their visualization. Karema speak offline: “ok guys, just tell the stories, to the members, like we talked about” Karema’s grandparents nod their heads and begin. Euclaire start off. “The following photo was taken in 1900..”. The number of residents grew by one thousand. Euclaire continue: “The woman with white hair was named Sister May, she led the local church of freeville texas, near the border of Louisiana. The woman on her right was Jude, she was married to Robert Six Pistols, the legendary gun fighter who defeated the Bones of Davis gang that terrorized black towns from Wyoming to Missouri, The man behind sister May was…” “Jacob Farmer, the last original cowboy” “yes, thank you my love, and next to him with the cane was Ol’ barrel Williams, he was involved with Sherman’s march, and the one farthest left was Youn’ Boulder Williams, they say he made reconnaissance trips in the confederacy, but he never told anyone, it all came as hearsay from friends around drink, the last was my great grandfather, Toby Tim, the master of the Coon can, my grandfather would only play Conquian because of him. He always sang, whenever family time was… many tried to be the best, from northern Virginia to southern Texas, many came on road or followed the blues, to seek out Toby Tim and the crown he used. Not made of gold or very old, but pure white with a black soul, many a man or wo-man thought the crown will be theirs but didn’t comprehend the first lesson, the coon plays the can, but the king knows conquian, all hail” Euclaire and Nicodemus say in unison:“ Toby Tim!”: and they laugh. The number of residents grew by two thousand, shares by ten thousand. Euclaire continue: “Some of you may wonder where is Toby Tim’s hat these days, well, I can tell you, but you have to play a hand of conquian with me to make me”: and Euclaire stop. Nicodemus begin: “the following photo was taken in 1905, actually near where I lived as a baby in 2020”. The number of residents grew by eight hundred. Nicodemus continue: “if you look at the trolley you will some men in white there, in the mix they faced a lady was present, that lady was my great grandmother. Her name was Ludmilla L'Aventure. She owned the store in the center, of the dark colored building. She actually met Frederick Douglass in 1887, we still have the ledger to prove it, and he wanted a special dress made with a mocha boned shoulder strap bodice over the hips, and a red white and blue threadcount tartan dress with thirty eight ruffles around the dress with red white and blue threadcount tartan pattern but larger values hemlined just over the floor, if enough of you want I will share the photo with you later” . Two thousand shares are made. Nicodemus continue:“ My great grandmother, even met King T.T. , after he defeated a man by the name of Sally the rough, Lady L'aventure sewed a mulberry silk rim but you have to play with my wife for more” The number of residents grew by three thousand and Nicodemus end. Euclaire look to Karema and Karema make gestures and Euclaire begin:“ We will share the following photo with you all for a post Juneteenth quest” Euclaire continue: “We happen to know the two women in the carriage but we will like all of you to do research and find them for us. Whomever succeeds after placing their findings in the mail box will receive a thousand credits to use anywhere, in any village in GloboVans courtesy of Kverse’s mayor, QueenK! ” Euclaire end and Karema begin the next phase of her online activity. Nicodemus and Euclaire look to each other and smile. They wave to Karema as they exit her room. … After supper, everyone in the house hold, Euclaire, Nicodemus, Jonas their son, Lukwana Jonas’s wife, Karim Lukwana’s father, oleone Lukwana’s mother, Karema the daughter of Jonas plus Lukwana, her little brother Nat adopted at ten and now twelve, all cleaned the kitchen and enjoyed the parlor. Karema went next to her grandparents playing Cubecule and showed them a video. Euclaire erupted in laughter. “Can you still do the dance grandma?” “That little girl is long gone” Nicodemus lean over in a public whisper: “she still can” “Nicodemus Charles Lattimer shame! ” Nicodemus smile and lean back. “Please grandma” “No, no way… well, don’t give me that face… alright, if Nicodemus can defeat me in the game of Cubecule, I will do it” I hope you enjoyed the story …If you enjoyed this tale check out the others utilizing the links below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714

Flag Day <june 14th , June 14, 1777 the usa flag was adopted : "That the flag of the thirteen United States be thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new constellation.">- commemorating the Flag of the usa. IT is not a federal holiday. But, what does the USA flag mean to you? I ask for various text or graphics depicting that feeling. Here is some trivia. When is a star supposed to be added when a state is added to the union? https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-flag-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=905 STORY In the future, aside Mons Huygens, in the capitol of the E.N.U., a school for age 6s in district five, Gandhi Academy, has Origin Day. The children wait for the box of noted old things from Earth’s past to be revealed. A teacher open up the box, flanked by her peers, and various items are present. Each child in the school’s roster take an item. … Marianne look at the storage unit and read from a letter, by White Feather. “My grandfather was told by his grandfather, as they opposed the building of a pipeline, that he remember his son, my great grandfather, fighting in the original American Indian Movement. How these white men came and took his son’s daughter one late evening. They found her weeks later two states over in Illinois. Local authorities or federal authorities never found out who did it. But, my great grandfather, with the bow he made, lived in the street and hunted those men with the old ways. He eventually found those men and murdered them. The police nor other law enforcement came but the family knew as he told them how he did it, and it coincided eerily to the news report. My grandfather was told this tale during the video presentation you are watching. The AIM flag was not preferred by my great grandfather but after avenging my great grandmother, he flew it proudly wherever he went” Gentle Cougar took out an old photo and read a letter from Candace Nascimento. “My grandmother was a field nurse during world war I. She knew about the field from her grandfather, a former buffalo soldier, who had a forebear that served the British during the united states war of independence. He told her he was forever shamed about his tenure in that unit and she should never serve the USA in any fashion, giving him the chance to kill for a fantasy. But, during the war to end all wars, she saw many of her friends heading off and wanted to join them. And she did. She lost her fiancé in Southern France, a sander from Louisiana, deterring the main German offensive. The USA never awarded him. But she survived and was emboldened to be a pan africanists. She wanted to find her way to a Black country. And she is waving the flag in this photo. Some white cops later that month confiscated all the money they had gathered to make a boat with provisions. It broke my grandmother’s heart. But, she found her husband, Rodrigo, later that year and he was always proud of her waving that flag, as he never had saw such an exhibition in Salvador” N'Dule took out a colored photo and read a letter from Georgina Blake Jefferson. “My grandmother grew up in the bayou, in true cajun country. She never finished elementary. And decided to work as a house cleaner for the elites in New Orleans. One day, soon before her eighteenth birthday, a group of guys from the North were partying for Mardi Gras. They waited for her to leave her shift and grabbed her. She couldn’t struggle against a group of five men. She learned later, her brother as a member of Beauregard’s men secretly patrolled new orleans to keep the cajun women safe. And, even though one had violated her, before the others could get there turn, her brother and his friends found the rig of her captors. She never forgot seeing the beauty of the battle flag of northern virginia on their jackets. It represented a safety the stars and stripes never did, a pride in being southern. This photo she took at her birthday party later, she would always carry a battle flag with her wherever she went” Carlos Tenji took out a drawing and read a letter from Madiba Patel. “My grandfather was a refuge and his family chose the usa cause it was the biggest option. Any country in europe seem smaller and already too congested, and no one spoke chinese or russian or portuguese. My great grandmother spoke english so that was an assist. My grandfather was an internet millionaire with his roaming cinema verité. Going around hitchhiking, taking online viewers on his journeys. This graphic was designed for a government official. Some people were tearing it all down. My grandfather gained a limp trying to stop them. He told the people, he wasn’t trying to change them, but asking them to stop trying to change others. If we learn to live side by side unlikely neighbors, neighbors we oppose while we don’t try to change, we can have true peace, not a deceptive slavery. It took many decades but we finally did learn how” … Other kids presented items from yore but none were flags. …If you enjoyed this tale check out the others utilizing the links below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714

Memorial Day <last monday of may originally may 30th, originally called decoration day> - create writing or art that involve the the death of Black soldiers who died serving on the battlefield for the us military or others. I ask a query? https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-aphelion-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=914 PROSE While my favorite war movies are: Paths of Glory<second phase of the world war>, Das Boot<second phase of the world war>, Buck and the Preacher<war between the state>, Posse<hybrid spanish american war-war between the states>, The Young Lions<second phase of the world war>, Seven Samurai<I will use the white european term, Feudal era in japan>, Throne of Blood <said feudal era in nippon, even though it reference macbeth, the history of the fall of osaka castle is what is referenced in it>, The Outlaw Jose Wales<war between the states>, Apocalypto <European invasion of the commonly called Americas> ;honorable mention to some moderns, not favorites for me yet, but warranted mention: Alexander, Valkyrie. But, when I think of soldiers who died in all armies, all wars, no restriction to the usa. This year, I think to one film in particular: Born on the fourth of July. Yes, Oliver stone made it as a reply to "Top Gun" <a truly shameless modern propaganda film> , yes he demanded tom cruise be in it. Yes, many say it is a war film. But I do not, unlike all the other films I mentioned, “Born on the Fourth of July” is an anti-propaganda film, that masquerade as a war film. It opens with a lie, American supremacy, american exceptionalism, american goodness, and that is a massive point. When people say they want to honor the spirits of the fallen soldiers, who does that exactly include? I always say, the first Black soldiers in the context of the USA black people in the usa historically must consider is the Black soldiers fighting against the colonies for the british. It is well known more Black soldiers fought against the colonies than for the colonies. Sequentially, the first Black soldiers in the context of the usa were against the Usa. I wonder do people in germany honor the german soldiers of the second phase of the world war, usually demonized in usa based film fiction? Memorial is a thing of memory, the earlier title of decoration day is about decorating those who died fighting for the confederacy. Do people, any community, honor what the losing soldier fought for? Historically, during the age of global white european imperialism the only successful Black soldiers in the global white european imperial global era was in the : american continent soldiers of haiti under Dessalines who died killing whites of the usa/england/spain/france, in africa was of Menelik II in ethiopia against the italians aided by russia oddly enough. Excluding the japanese a white asian peoples as people of color, people of color defined as non white european people, everywhere else was controlled directly by white european powers for hundreds of years absent a break. Do Black Americans, America as canada to argentina, honor the memory of the old haitian soldiers? Do Black Africans, Africa as yemen to cape verde or iraq to south africa, honor the memory of the Ethiopian soldiers? The idea of Black Nationalism that the soldiers of Dessalines died for was not about sitting at a white table, it was about making Black tables by any means necessary. Again, why have Black people in the USA or any other country in the american continent started a black party of governance? The religiosity in Africa is huge. But, why is it the religion of ethiopia is not highlighted, surely the christianity of ethiopia is a better suit for christian black africans than the italian catholicism, the german protestanism or some thing made out of the usa? Remember the memory to fallen soldiers folks, but don't lie about why some soldiers died. Black soldiers in the usa dying for white man's wars is not honor, is not to be praised, even if it is your father or uncle or mom or sister. Don't turn your love for them into a manipulation of why they died. Don't tell me that a black woman died for the betterment of the world in iraq. Don't tell me that a black grandfather died for the betterment of the world at midway. Don't tell me a black uncle died for the betterment of the world at d-day. Don't tell me a black aunt died for the betterment of the world at the border between the usa and china controlled zones in Korea. Don't lie and find the time to honor the soldiers that make your current life seem traitorous or uneasy. There is no shame in working for whites, marrying whites, befriending whites, living mostly around whites in a mile radius. But, don't turn your phenotypical lack of negative bias toward whites as the purpose of the Black soldiers of Dessalines, the black or native soldiers of Jonas Caballo, the black soldiers commonly called slave revolters, the black soldiers who fought for the british against the creation of the usa. Those forebears represented the best interest of black people in the american continent. Don't lie about why they died. They did not die for you to have a white friend, befriend white people, marry whites, sit at a white table, own a piece of a white table. They died hoping you will continue their fight and kill all white people who can. To all others, who are not Black , honor your soldiers as well. Don't Knock down the nazi's because they lost, because they are criminalized in history books written by those they faced. Don't criminalize the soviets. Soldiers at their best die for their communities to be free, completely, totally, using all means including murder. You can dishonor the death of the modern soldier who applies to militaries whose actions are not about freedom to those in their country but slavery over those in others. But honor the soldiers in the past, who fought to make the lives in their community better. They may have lost, they may not have been aracial, but those soldiers died to make your community free from outsiders influence. Honor that in your memory.

https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-mothers-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=901 STORY May 18th 2020 For today's blog, after Saturday's poll result honoring Joan of Arc's canonization, I will present fastidiously, the interview from yesterday, the positively incomparable senior rapper Simon Wheeler the third as my guest, and query him concerning a man over ten thousand voters do not know, Leo Smiley, advocate to the homeless Leo Smiley, and display it after I explain some reservations. I have wondered the purpose behind my fanbase, even if they are free or real as the random write in winning a poll is the definition to modern falsehood, hoping it is not to convey information about JSmiles1, who Leo Smiley knows too well as episode 69 concerning banned internet words attest, and convey information about Leo Smiley will help a thesis for an online class I am taking, while JSMiles1 is not worth telling children about. Simon Wheeler the third was at a replica of Angel's Hotel in his house, kept a mask on even though he lived alone, eyes showed a love of life, a pizza stain on his captain planet shirt showed a love of food, he never looked at me during the interview, he looked to the left when sad, to the right when happy , to the ceiling when quiet, to the floor when bellowing, he seemed to be preaching to the world about a prophet, though I did not ask about one. So, I asked him one question, if he knew about Leo Smiley, and he gave his reply, which concluded our interview. He replied: Ohhhh, you know there was a playa, name JSmiles1 I tell ya, he live two blocks down the road. I think his ancestor, a simple harvester, came as a pilgrim , not the one's in films then, while eight others came from the east. But when he received, and after he was Extremely pleased, his first phone , a ring tone to moan, came after every messaging. For no one wanted, he was not stunted, to message him first you see. A simple moan, not like a loud one from ol' Joan, was all he wanted to hear. If he saw anything, whether or not a plaything, he wanted to text message it , announce or boast it, right then and there. If he saw a couple, even if their life seem supple, arguing in their home, he made a texting tome. If he saw a squirrel, whether still or in a twirl, busying about a tree, he will text how later it flee. If kids were playing ball in the street, he will text it; if a pigeon took bread and flew away, he will text it. If he saw two kids flying paper airplanes he will text it. If he saw some fellas, all of them brothas, on his favorite corner, not the one with music by werner, singing or drinking about,... he will wait, cause it's never too late, for Hakim Johnson , graduate of the Harlem boys choir, and invitational caroler to the Vatican twice the pride of his sire, to etch out a tune, with magic like a rune, and do it with a smile, like all the good unpaid acts of the Hollywood miles. If he saw a kid, not one that hid, on a bike being chased, he will follow his trail, longer than the route for mail, and message every step of the way. That is why whenever JSmiles1 was about, every kid, lady, playa, knew his route. He message anything he could, if messages was water he'd fill up the woods. One time a woman named Janine, fell from the city heat, and her fall made a loud scene. I can not say who picked her up, or her apartment or who put medicine in her cup, but JSMiles1 came in her place, and looked all interested at her face, and was told she will be all well, three high fathers and two hail mary’s, yes. JSMiles1 merely texted, "She ain't recovered yet" JSMiles1 had a video game system, officially it was called a Listem, but folk called her Susan, with eyes near the control port and all. To start took five minutes to load, the sound of popcorn waiting was always to explode, cause she would never turn on, with her insides all done, cause of rain, or some pain, after a lifelong injury with a fall. Her game was simple, shoot through a space like a fipple, all the players always let her go first. If cable was on she will pause, or maybe it was the telephone that was the cause, but the user always gained huge points, but before the winning tally, in each and I mean each and every rally, she will come out with a glitch, and literally say one word on the screen, ditch , hitch or witch, and then she win. And, he had a brown basketball, more like a handball, seemed to let out gas, with each and every pass, but whenever he was shot, turned into a perfect pi-rock, and clear out rivals from the lot. Some tried to use a different ball, but a calamity will always predate its fall, truck/knife/bullet or something where Ronald Reagan which is the name of the ball, passed around dead and dying, JSMiles1 telling all the angry they lying, until he get the ball whop, a shot go in and mouths drop, while JSMiles1 message what he saw. That ball was always good for a story, various literal glory, till the day the kids played with brown ball, bigger than a common handball, Reagan tried to replace him, but he wasn't able to trick him, and disheartened the old ball puffed all his air out. Ronald was a good ball, and could had made it onto Ringling brothers, but no call came before his fall, and he was unlike any of his others. Shed a tear, let the drink drop, the last great basketball I was once near, sad he went out a flop. The great JSMiles1, the only one, had a jump rope, dice, a rooster, a genie's collection of everything, so he could message about anything. He one time caught a frog, hopped into his hand from a fog, in the local park, texted "I have a green son to teach", for months he spoke like a lark, teaching under a year the hopper. Hop over a toy car, hop over the plastic star, catch a fly over an orange juice glass, catch a fly under the chair for his wee lass. The frog has no limit, he said, over and over again, each day teach a lil bit, he said, believe in him, believe in him. I saw Steph in my home, right behind me, begin a tome, "in the beginning flies " for no fee, and faster than superman, a hop over a stan' , then more stoic than a Tibetan monk as if all his ambition sunk. No frog was ever like him, before or afterward. JSMiles1 love to boast about the little green beastie, kept him safe when he traveled in a pocket made side his hoodie. One day, a loner, a stranger on the block, asked: "what is that thing on your neck, a sock". JSMiles1 say:"yoyoyo don't talk about my son, he may bite you like a snake or leap at you like a rat, but he is just my pet, frog" Surprised, the guy wonder what's it talent and why. JSMiles1 smile and smile: "he is the Frog that I always message everyone about, the frog that can outleap any other frog you can find or see" The distant neighbor shake his head, no and no and no. "I am willing to put my money where my mouth is": JSMiles1 preach. "You have not studied the fine art of frog training, clearly, you only seen things on tv... He can out jump any frog in Calaveras county, cause he always did, and since your shirt show you a trader, I am willing to bet forty dollars, my fellow playa" The stranger hummin: "To bad, but I will never know and neither will you. I have no frog, but if I did... I will bet you" And JSMiles1 brighten: "wait a minute, stay right there, here is my hoodie I will be right back" The fella took out his wallet and sat down on the fire hydrant; he ponder to himself, about the possible new wealth, and took the frog out his blanket, and remembering his lunch, pushed in a bit from chopped rotisserie chicken, as a late frog brunch. On the concrete the frog sat, still like a wrestler out for the count on the mat. JSMiles1 returned all muddy, clothes colored around a ruddy, with a common wild frog in his hands and say: "ok, we are now ready. Here... and place him next to Steph Hawkin, that is my frog' name, and you best remember it after this. On three we will let them go" Both men held their racers, each hopping a hop is no different than phasers. The stranger give a gentle tap, and the wild frog hop elsewhere on the concrete map. But, Steph just sat there, wonderin like the hippies did over there. No matter what his frog just sat and JSmiles1 had to admit, in his message, where his frog was at. The guy took the money and went on down the sidewalk, but before he crossed the street, he look to Steph and balk: "us another simple frog I see" JSmiles1 was upset, and stared at his son now set: "What is wrong with you Steph, tell me" After a lift he noticed his weight, and all comprehension concerned his former fate. He saw the stranger turn a distant corner and raced after him getting warmer, and warmer, but he never caught him. And Suddenly a yell, the rapper leaped from his seat and placed his face close to the screen: "Stay right there , brother man" But, I think I learned enough about the infamous JSMiles1 and doubted much will come about Leo Smiley so I cut off the video conference with a polite message. Immediately after, I got a reply from Wheeler, about JSmiles1 Volkswagen beetle his grandfather gave him. But, I had no further inclination and took my leave. Happy Belated Canonization of Joan of Arc Happy Belated Jumping Frog Jubilee based on the first story published by Mark Twain, the Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County …If you enjoyed this tale check out the others utilizing the links below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714

Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-mothers-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=897 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-mothers-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=899 STORY 1 It is so warm mommy, stay there, don’t move around, I need to get my sauna time in. But I will be hungry in a little while. Oh wait, wait, let me get my pose in. Kata Stance!!! … Mommy, that baby look like me, but why it covered in gold. why mommy? Poppa paint it that way. Poppa tickle my feet, I like that. But he wrong, I rather drink milk than look at your neck mommy. You call me Rosey, just like those things. But you say I’m cuter, I agree with you. Oh pappa want to hug us, hold on mommy. later, other mommy and baby. … I want to run, like that kitty kat. Let me go and run mommy or you run with me, please?! Where is papa? why he play so many games? Your neck is shiny, can I see your neck? thank you. Ha! there is papa, he hide mommy. He hide behind a bush. What is over there? … MOMMY! I want to play with the cards now! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! It is not funny Papa MOMMY! … Thank you mom, thank you for this, I know you had to reschedule a conference. I think papa will like this photograph. Behave yourself Cocoa! Play the thumb game and be still for us, please. Ok go mama! Oh, yes… I remember when Papa showed that photo to me. It is not funny, I wanted to play with those Kemet cards. I still got them too. HOLD STILL! ok ok Got it! … Yes Malika, isn’t this setup a nice concept. Ma told me about it years ago while your husband was in her womb. Lil Hakim is like him, so at peace. Remember to always call ma when you need assistance, I know I have for my little one. Yes, Malika, one month due… oh, there she is now, BUT HOLD STILL, this is it …If you enjoyed this tale check out the others utilizing the links below Bookbub https://www.bookbub.com/profile/richard-murray-16885e64-6c28-459e-bf5f-45c7d458ce49 AALBC https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/blog/29-richard-murray-hearth/ Poetry or More Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Poetry%20or%20More&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=06baba96-5af5-5d24-9b8a-f06360287dc9 Visasiki Audiobook https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Visasiki%20Series&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=965aea81-4e13-53fe-8bc8-22fcb6d28a39 Short Story Collection https://www.kobo.com/us/en/search?query=Richard%20Murray%20Short%20Story%20Collection&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=014c67c4-d29d-584e-ada0-62c0fa015714 STORY 2 I remember walking alongside you in this park Ma. Just like that baby duck, but walking. The sun was brilliant every time we went out. Hey stop that, I don't need preening. Here click the shot then. ... I am not preening you back, no way. Yes I know the baby fox look cute but I am not a baby anymore. Ha! Don't look like that. Well alright, I will let fate decide. I will kiss you on the cheek while I take the photo. ... ... I will get an exhibit in this gallery one day, don't worry Ma. No this is a collection from various photographers. Ha! you like that one. Ha! I wanted to play drums with Morris. I had to help my brother find his vocation. I can't wait to hear him later tonight. ... I have a question, does Dad still get a taste? I am not ashamed to ask a valid adult question to my mother in public? I am not tasting them now... I am not done doing it, I merely moved on to greener pastures. Ha! Yes, Rose and Makeda will meet us at the art exhibit. ... Yes, I stole milk from my daughter. Rose knew it would happen, she was complicit. ... Look at those cheeks, sleepy head. I wish we can see inside a baby dream. I wonder what wonder. I was meditating Ma?! I was relaxed, in your arms was comfort, and during a hug... still is. ... Yeah, I love black mothers too. Amazing the happiness under such duress. ... do the dance now ? I know you have not forgotten. Did you do it when you held Makeda? ... Wait, here is my dance for my grandchild to be... Ha! ... ... Hi! there they are. ... You want some water Rose? Nanna gets all the attention huh? ... I love you to Makeda. ... Love the opening selection. Yeah she does. I remember when you looked like that Rose, I know Pop will say the same to you Ma. ... yes, it seems all females know it is time for another kind of strength when motherhood come. ... yeah, it is universal ... It's Mary Magdalene... a woman in Christian lore little one. I agree Ma, Makeda was cuter. Oh thank you. I know you were cuter my love. You want to be a mom one day Makeda? Ha!

Story 1 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-earth-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=894 Story 2 https://aalbc.com/tc/blogs/entry/261-earth-day-art-or-text-craft-parade-good-news-blog/?do=findComment&comment=895 STORY 1 The elders say cats always walk the way to the lair of the Earth Seed. A child of earth born once every turn of the Earth about the Sun. Some say an earth seed is a child of earth with the sun, but no one has ever recorded such an event accept the plants. The elders also say, you know when a cat is close to an Earth Seed when a cat cross the mushrooms that grow wildest. The elders say, if you follow a cat, long enough, though no exact distance is ever known, you will reach an arcade of trees That is only the gateway to an Earth Seed when a cat on the path goes through it, otherwise it is just an arcade of trees on earth, not unlike any other. In the year 1970, a man painted a moment in time in the year 1936 when he followed the town cat who lived in Mr. Madsen’s barn past a set of oddly wild mushrooms and through an arcade of trees in Decatur Iowa. The experienced man, then a young man, did not know what he would find in that little wood. But it surprised him. At first, he thought a dragon, but he never saw a dragon that seemed to be made of algae. The creature seemed so gentle, or unassuming, it merely looked at him and then went back into its nestling. Days came and the man enjoyed its company. In the painting the man showed his younger self giving the Earth Seed an apple. He recalls his younger self being perturbed when the dragon puffed the apple away. He did not know what to do and wondered why it had scars on it, while it never left this area. Time past and the experienced man is now decades older and he is standing in the same green way years in the future. A man whose secrets about the Earth Seed will seem to die with him, for reasons the common people may never know. But, standing in full glory before this man whose time is nearly up is a fully fledged Earth Seed, no longer algae-ic with wings cut into by the ills applied to earth, or that is what some suggest cause the wounds, but now a serpentine with wild leaves about itself. A gallant dragon needing to speak to its father. The experienced man can only look at the Earth Seed fly up into the sky and to beyond. The Experienced Man near the end of his time say a prayer: “or helping this life, please earth, sun, moon, stars, please help the other children of earth”. And the Earth Seed flew up into the sky. Days later astronauts in the International Space Station said they saw a brilliant green light emit on the atmosphere of earth. They explained that the ions outside Earth’s electromagnetic field collide at it and produce the illuminations commonly called the Northern Lights, but what the now dead experienced man knew, and all those who get to aid an Earth Seed know, it is in those moments when the sun touch the earth , as the lords of the Nile depicted, when the Earth Seed can leave its mother and provide blessings to all children of earth, if the other children earned it. STORY 2 A spirit to a world speak: "hmmm, I feel my grandmother as I sleep. She is singing to me, a song of timelessness. When she was a little star swimming free in the bottom or topless sea. I wish I will live as long as her, but I know I will not. At least some of my children are not marsupial and they may go on and live on their aunts and uncles or others in my large family... I feel the need to wake up to end my sleep. I see myself as I wake" "I need to speak to one of my children today. In my waking dreams I can hear them speak to me. But, what was it about? I think it was to celebrate something. I guess I will make an avatar". ... an avatar to Earth form in a bright afternoon. And the earth avatar walked about a small town, walking along the main avenue, the green bushels forming her hair gently brushing through the air. People are in shock looking at this natural automaton. The earth spirit only know it remember someone is important today. She stop and look about and suddenly, a person claps. And another clap and the whole street fills up with people, clapping. The earth spirit is still unaware to the why or how? Then she see a banner: 'Happy Earth Day'. And a couple come out hand in hand and the woman speak: "this is for you Earth!". Servers came around a corner with little plates or folded tables holding cut pieces of dirt. The man speak to earth, winking at her: 'you taste good earth'. The earth spirit is flushed, unaware to what he was suggesting and she speak: "well, my water is nice right?" A little child go to the avatar and say: "I love water" and the earth spirit in the earth avatar on her body, grab the child and tickle their belly. The servers set the tables and place the sweets. The woman speak to the earth avatar: "do you want to know how you taste like?" The earth spirit look down and see the plate of sweets. She look to it and sniff, and grab one block of earth looking sweet and offer it to the child, who loves the taste. The child say: "I love you earth" The earth smile and say: "I love you too"