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August 19, 2005


Beth, there is something about that picture the bowl, its "blueness" and apparent lightness, and the way you take us through this neonatal unit to the conclusion in your post that strikes a deep chord, beyond words. It is there, in the silence beyond words, where we can truly start to think and see the differneces not just as they appear to us, but the ways in which they strike the souls whose realities these are.

my niece was born a lil before term, so she was kept in the nursery for a few days, it was heart-wrenching to see her with an iv drip, naked and hungry. there were other babies, far far more pre-mature, tiny and shrivelled and it was awful to see them so.

An arresting image, those inserts for the nurses' hands...

I was talking yesterday with some friends of mine who teach high school in a part of Pennsylvania known nation-wide as "Meth Valley" (Bradford County was even mentioned in a recent Newsweek cover story on Meth, yay). It's beyond depressing, it's downright dangerous. And don't expect protection from the cops or judges, 'cause they're in on it too. And yet, my friends said, just to drive through town, you'd never guess that anything's amiss - it looks pretty as a postcard.

Beth, only the way you saw and felt and recorded this scene touches me to the quick.

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Who was Cassandra?

  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.