The speedbrake on the elevator didn’t work and we were falling faster and faster forever.  It was a large elevator.  Some how I got it stopped and crawled above in chain works with a bolt cutter cutting chains, like bicycle chains.

The others were useless jabbering on further and further from my mind and hearing while I worked to make a rescue.  Rescuing even myself turned out to fail, and I went ahead and cut the chain works so all the metal pressed into my skull destroying me.

My teeth ground in my skull as one of the the last things.

The three women had told me that my daughter’s blue rain jacket was lost. I was sure it would be found. It was the second time I had run into them that afternoon and they still hadn’t gotten the Saigon play date father to a doctor. He wasn’t fairing well.
In the world I was supposed to be Buddhist or Christian or Atheist, but I sometimes went to the I Ching. I still do.
I was praying a lot. I have no problem praying. I keep most of them to myself, but have no particular problem sharing them.
Joan said “We are on our way to the doctor now. He wants one In particular.’
The man blanched and threw up in the street but still the cab driver pushed them all out of the cab and drove off.
I gave the man my hankercheif and bought him a Coka from the street vender.
The three women were after another cab, while the Saigon Frenchman let me hold him up some by his arm. Four people was too many, especially when it was three women.
“Listen Joan take him to the doctor.”
“Sandy and Millie take another cab home and wait for me there.” I said.
I waited there on the street with them till both sets of people were gone from my world and then walked to my office and called The General.
All he said was, “Leave. It’s so fucking sad. The Chinese wanted us to be friends when the war was ending for us. We were so stupid about Communism. The rich in the world don’t want everybody poor, but don’t want but their kind rich. It’s so stupid.”
There wasn’t much detail to what he was telling me, so I made up another battle story from what little I knew of the vanishing border and went home to get everybody headed home.

Today is the first day of the new Transcendia.org wordpress website.   I am grateful to Heath and Ed Hettig for the creation of this site.   We plan to maintain this site with all its archives.

Still the time has come for a site that works better to raise money selling the apparell made by Cafe Press with the Transcendian Flag, help and marketing the Xtree poster that will eventually replace artificial trees.

I am a photographer and want to be able to offer photos as posters.

We can't forget my books either.  I'm changing my public name from Russell Scott Day, for sale to Scott Day, levitra | because so many prefer Scott and remember it better.  I'm changing the name of the novella from Homeless Dog, to The Revolutionary, so that work doesn't end up in the pet supplies section of Amazon.

On other fronts I will continue to work for World peace, and progress through science.

The chaindrives and roller races carried plastic wrapped baloney at high speeds wherein I  struggled to keep up and not be killed by becoming trapped somehow in all the chromed or rubbed shinny metal that moved the baloney at high speed making a real racket.

I was inside all the trouble.

Outside where all the Chinese who knew what was going on and were trying to help me.

Still I couldn’t believe it.  There was so much Baloney.  It burst from rips in the not yet sliced plastic.  This was too long.  The Baloney ought to have been sliced already.  But it wasn’t and I was dancing stupidly worried inside the mechanisms of the factory blinded by the noise.

One day in a marriage you need to learn that some conflicts between you and your partner will never be resolved.  I don’t know how you teach this other than to say it.

I fear I was inside the mechanism to adjust it.  I was supposed to get it to cut and twist tie the sections of plastic encased advertised and dated Baloney, but didn’t know what I was doing.

I could not do a good job.  Baloney was bursting from its unseamed yet casing dirty pink gray falling to the floor to be wasted and every face reflecting worry as if it were a fuel spill.

I feared to touch anything and demanded company that was afraid of the baloney squirming on the floor that might sweep on away going in or out of the loop  of the badly designed mechanism.

Yes that was the problem.  I intended to make a report but was caught up in the action.  I was afraid and so was everyone else Chinese or me, of the baloney.

Something had to be done.

My webmaster is doing fine work installing the store for the Christmas Tree Poster, unhealthy and apparel and bags with the Transcendia flag on them from Cafepress, which does a fine fast job.

My computer broke, and a new one is on the way.

When first in the Rehab, pills or Nursing Home, depending on your condition and ambititons, there is warning that you may go mad.  The televisions play to the needs of many and duplicate in realty what is supposed to be a private torture.  One is supposed to go crazy all by ones self.

Insane, Crazy, we are not supposed to use the word crazy in a clinic setting, or diagnosis.  It is at least more cheery, crazy.  You have to admit.

So down the hall you go to be put in your square of a roof and window.

I had fear, and shoved it asside because there was nothing much I could do about it..

I had had the second of the operations I need to be able to walk and raise my right arm.

Course I might prefer to have my pained thumb redone.  I use it typing too much.  I limit my columns when the pain gets to be too much.

There is a little plastic bottle of an expensive liquid that I try drops and circled in in hope that the pain will abate.

Normally what I want now is sleep.

My "wound" is about healed and heals from the inside.

The crazy started immediately after the operation.  It came and went.  Finally I admitted quietly to the young nursing assistant who I trusted to not go for the strait jacket that I was having hallucinations.

The boneyard had bombers in snow blowing drifts.   We got the B 36 going along with the B 52, impotent and sent them out to do their duty.

I had to stand all the time, prostate or lay down.  My butt would hurt after 20 minutes of sitting and reading.

The seat of the motorcycle had developed a hole and he Sun had played hell with the paint, but the engine ran well.

Sidney was morose in the parking lot.  The grocery store closed now not staying open all night.

Alise was no more friendly as if childishness had been part of all of it much more than I ever thought.

Everybody let everybody down.

Everybody looked forward to the end by physics, not wanting other universes to compete.

As far as I can tell from my research concerning Duke Forest land under the control of NASA, asthma The Calibration of the Photographic Equipment of the NASA Hassablads and Linhoff cameras was apparently completed in 1993.

      It is interesting that the cameras are mentioned in the studies more often than the film.

      So far the photographs from the radar system that I got are not very helpful to me.

      I hope it was useful, but have some other ideas about what other experiments might produce some benefits in my current neighborhood.

      I really want NASALand on Eubanks Road, and the Orange County Landfill turned into a State of the Art Recycling and Community Airport and have no objection if NASA continues to take pictures of it with whatever cameras they prefer.

                                             Love- Russell