Thursday, March 18, 2010
SO WHAT'S WRONG WITH A LITTLE IGNORANCE?
"Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise...!" When Shakespeare penned those waggishly insightful words, he set down a marker for all of us. In today's age of such accomplishment and sophistication, it may seem counter-intuitive to demean wisdom. But not really. Not when you plumb the true bliss of true ignorance. Here, lets consider some obvious examples...
CHILDHOOD
Be honest -- can you think of any ignorance more totally blissful than your childhood? Those first six or seven years when life is a butterfly you cup in your hands...when what you feel you do...what you fear your parents take care of...what you know of the world outside the lair you know only through the protecting eyes of a tigress of a mother.
St Paul speaks truth when he speaks of "putting away the things of child." Still, those early years were blissful in direct proportion to the ignorance within which we moved. And played. And dreamed. And slept totally secure every night.
Victor Herbert spoke truth too when his lyric said "we can never go back again." And yet, the fragile memory of such bliss is locked somewhere inside the vault of our heart. To be gently taken out every now and then in order to re-polish its shine.
DEATH
For a long time, death is simply a word. Not even a fact. Certainly not a reality. In our Western culture. death has been politely excised from our lives, and placed in the hands of antiseptic processionals in hospitals and funeral chapels.
The duration of this bliss depends on how early and how often death intrudes upon our ignorance. This usually means we are starkly unprepared when its black wings suddenly hover over our lives. And yet, the dark angel's banishment may help explain how we manage to survive. Somehow always with the ignorant expectation that: What is, will always be.
So yes...death, take your place in line while my ignorance of you helps get me through another day. Time enough when the time comes.
SMALL AFTERTHOUGHTS
If Childhood and Death are part of this little tale, two smaller thoughts also come to mind: The Ten O'clock News every night and Spring every March. No, seriously...! Let me explain.
The Ten O'Clock News may be the most insidious of modern institutions. Why one wonders would anyone planning to go to bed want to first watch this 30 minutes of murder, madness and mayhem? Also, why do we so anticipate Spring when what it really means is all this sunshine now illuminating all this dust and dirt the clouds of Winter have kept hidden from our eyes?
I know, I know -- strange reactions. But once again, just a matter of trying to hang on to the bliss of igorance in the face of the folly of facts...
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
LETTING ZORBA TEACH YOU TO DANCE
Have you ever heard of the poet Charles Bukowski? Well, I haven't either. But he makes a good point when he wrote his editor: "Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must live."
Which is, I believe, the very lesson the straight-laced Englishman learns from the wonderfully crazy Zorba The Greek in the 1964 movie of the same name. The Englishman lives by the cool and proper rules of society; Zorba knows no rules except those that pour out of his heart like hot lava. The Englishman co-exists with raw nature; Zorba virtually has sex with nature. The Englishman is cerebral and contained; Zorba is emotional and knows how to dance at the whim of a wish.
By all the rules, Zorba -- played pitch-pefect by Anthony Quinn -- is a foul-mouthed, foul-smelling brute of a man. And yet we are immediately sucked into his glorious primitiveness. He loves the land, the sky, the drink, the food, and especially the women of his Island paradise. It's the kind of unbridled, un-orthodox, un-disciplined, un-educated love the well-bred Englishman cannot possibly understand.
And yet...
While he watches Zorba break and make rules as he travels his day, the proper young man realizes that you can't really live life in a gilded cage. Everything he has learned -- from books, from schools, from society -- seem so reedy and brittle here in the blazing Mediterranean sun. Life is not something you study. It is everything you feel. And not year to year, but moment to moment.
The final scene -- after all of Zorba's good but uncouth intentions have collapsed -- allows this un-lettered bear of a man two choices. Either cry over the tragedy of life. Or dance at the ecstasy of life. But dance to what? To nothing more than the beat of his beating heart.
I don't know if God is Geek, but on that island on that day, I'm convinced He was. And He smiled down to whisper to His groaning world -- yes, children, dance. Dance whenever, wherever and however you can. For this is what you will be invited to do here with us....
Which is, I believe, the very lesson the straight-laced Englishman learns from the wonderfully crazy Zorba The Greek in the 1964 movie of the same name. The Englishman lives by the cool and proper rules of society; Zorba knows no rules except those that pour out of his heart like hot lava. The Englishman co-exists with raw nature; Zorba virtually has sex with nature. The Englishman is cerebral and contained; Zorba is emotional and knows how to dance at the whim of a wish.
By all the rules, Zorba -- played pitch-pefect by Anthony Quinn -- is a foul-mouthed, foul-smelling brute of a man. And yet we are immediately sucked into his glorious primitiveness. He loves the land, the sky, the drink, the food, and especially the women of his Island paradise. It's the kind of unbridled, un-orthodox, un-disciplined, un-educated love the well-bred Englishman cannot possibly understand.
And yet...
While he watches Zorba break and make rules as he travels his day, the proper young man realizes that you can't really live life in a gilded cage. Everything he has learned -- from books, from schools, from society -- seem so reedy and brittle here in the blazing Mediterranean sun. Life is not something you study. It is everything you feel. And not year to year, but moment to moment.
The final scene -- after all of Zorba's good but uncouth intentions have collapsed -- allows this un-lettered bear of a man two choices. Either cry over the tragedy of life. Or dance at the ecstasy of life. But dance to what? To nothing more than the beat of his beating heart.
I don't know if God is Geek, but on that island on that day, I'm convinced He was. And He smiled down to whisper to His groaning world -- yes, children, dance. Dance whenever, wherever and however you can. For this is what you will be invited to do here with us....
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
HEADS and HEARTS: BOND or BATTLE?
The human heart was long believed to be the essence of a person. And so warriors cut them out from their victims to finalize their victories. The human brain, in contrast, was often discarded in ancient burial rites as a totally dispensable item. Over time, humanity has switched tracks. We are left to wonder if we've made the right choice.
It's easy to say we need them both. Of course we do. Still, their differences in our life should be better appreciated. For instance, consider the brainiest guy we know: Albert Einstein. He shook the world with his theory of relativity. It is his-head-to-our-heads explanation of how this phenomenon known as time is not an absolute. Rather, relative to other forces.
It takes about 16 pages of higher math top reach this astonishing conclusion...and yet my children understood it even before they could read words let alone crunch numbers! All you had to do was ask them how relatively long the days were before Christmas in contrast to the days after.
Everyone knows -- with their hearts -- that time is either terribly or wonderfully relative to whatever we are awaiting or dreading. Certainly this fact -- and It is a fact -- doesn't shove Albert off the stage of intellectual history. But it does remind our heads that our hearts have a say in all this too. It's not only the Tin Man who feels incomplete without one.
None of this is to say our feelings should supersede our facts. Emotions shouldn't over-ride intellect. Better to say our emotions should ride our facts. Like a sentient horseman rides in the saddle of the stallion. We have entered an age of roaring, rearing intellectual energy -- computers, data banks, Internet, smart-phones, Google. By themselves, all this energy can sweep us virtually anywhere. But with a feeling rider in the saddle, our chances of reaching good land is far better than if all this intellectual energy were to remain saddle-less.
Might this be called a modest alert....? A warning that the inexorable accumulation of more and more intellectual gadgetry is "progress" only "relative" to the "time" it takes us to accomplish something good with it...
It's easy to say we need them both. Of course we do. Still, their differences in our life should be better appreciated. For instance, consider the brainiest guy we know: Albert Einstein. He shook the world with his theory of relativity. It is his-head-to-our-heads explanation of how this phenomenon known as time is not an absolute. Rather, relative to other forces.
It takes about 16 pages of higher math top reach this astonishing conclusion...and yet my children understood it even before they could read words let alone crunch numbers! All you had to do was ask them how relatively long the days were before Christmas in contrast to the days after.
Everyone knows -- with their hearts -- that time is either terribly or wonderfully relative to whatever we are awaiting or dreading. Certainly this fact -- and It is a fact -- doesn't shove Albert off the stage of intellectual history. But it does remind our heads that our hearts have a say in all this too. It's not only the Tin Man who feels incomplete without one.
None of this is to say our feelings should supersede our facts. Emotions shouldn't over-ride intellect. Better to say our emotions should ride our facts. Like a sentient horseman rides in the saddle of the stallion. We have entered an age of roaring, rearing intellectual energy -- computers, data banks, Internet, smart-phones, Google. By themselves, all this energy can sweep us virtually anywhere. But with a feeling rider in the saddle, our chances of reaching good land is far better than if all this intellectual energy were to remain saddle-less.
Might this be called a modest alert....? A warning that the inexorable accumulation of more and more intellectual gadgetry is "progress" only "relative" to the "time" it takes us to accomplish something good with it...
Monday, March 15, 2010
COLLECTING STUFF & GHOSTSWith the years, we inevitably collect more stuff. But also more ghosts. The stuff half was brilliantly codified by comedian G
With the years, we inevitably collect more stuff. But also more ghosts. The stuff half was brilliantly codified by comedian George Carlin; the ghost half just comes along by itself. Here's how....
STUFF
Everyone has tales to tell about finding boxes of stuff collecting dust and disinterest somewhere in the garages and basements of our lives. Old shoes...postcards...newspaper clippings...some invoices...a few photos...and little metallic things we can't for the life of us imagine what you do with.
As Carlin wisely points out, stuff just sorta accumulates over the years. Whether we're trying or not. Lately, slick retailers have decided that folks over 60 don't buy anymore stuff, so why bother trying to reach them anymore. That's why advertising, movies and television are aimed mostly at the young.
A point of correction here. What Carlin and the retailers forget is this. It's not that older folks don't need more stuff. It's mainly because at this stage of the game, we simply don't want more! You see. kids, it's really true: "You can't take it with you...!"
GHOSTS
In contrast to stuff, ghosts are a more arguable subject. But this is not meant to be a theological consideration. Just an everyday, tug-at-your-heart consideration. With the years, ghosts simply happen...!
All those people we've loved (and not) have this way of hanging around our heart. When important people in our lives die, their memories often choose to live on with us. Moms, dads, grandparents, uncles, aunts, school chums, first loves, first bosses, first sergeants, first-and-last of all sorts. So long as our brain circuits still arc together, these ghosts will still persist.
There is the saying that our eternity exists in the memories of all those who live after us. How the truth to this slams home whenever you come upon a street corner where you can recall a fateful goodbye...a house now occupied by strangers in which you know the ghosts of your family still walk....stores and schools, theatres and beaches, streetlights and cafes where you can still catch a wisp of all those beautiful people with whom you once shared this sacred space.
Ghosts -- all around us all the time. All they need is our permission to let them inside this tiny shard of time. But unlike our stuff, usually our ghosts are well worth collecting. And keeping...
STUFF
Everyone has tales to tell about finding boxes of stuff collecting dust and disinterest somewhere in the garages and basements of our lives. Old shoes...postcards...newspaper clippings...some invoices...a few photos...and little metallic things we can't for the life of us imagine what you do with.
As Carlin wisely points out, stuff just sorta accumulates over the years. Whether we're trying or not. Lately, slick retailers have decided that folks over 60 don't buy anymore stuff, so why bother trying to reach them anymore. That's why advertising, movies and television are aimed mostly at the young.
A point of correction here. What Carlin and the retailers forget is this. It's not that older folks don't need more stuff. It's mainly because at this stage of the game, we simply don't want more! You see. kids, it's really true: "You can't take it with you...!"
GHOSTS
In contrast to stuff, ghosts are a more arguable subject. But this is not meant to be a theological consideration. Just an everyday, tug-at-your-heart consideration. With the years, ghosts simply happen...!
All those people we've loved (and not) have this way of hanging around our heart. When important people in our lives die, their memories often choose to live on with us. Moms, dads, grandparents, uncles, aunts, school chums, first loves, first bosses, first sergeants, first-and-last of all sorts. So long as our brain circuits still arc together, these ghosts will still persist.
There is the saying that our eternity exists in the memories of all those who live after us. How the truth to this slams home whenever you come upon a street corner where you can recall a fateful goodbye...a house now occupied by strangers in which you know the ghosts of your family still walk....stores and schools, theatres and beaches, streetlights and cafes where you can still catch a wisp of all those beautiful people with whom you once shared this sacred space.
Ghosts -- all around us all the time. All they need is our permission to let them inside this tiny shard of time. But unlike our stuff, usually our ghosts are well worth collecting. And keeping...
Sunday, March 14, 2010
WHEN SCIENTISTS HAVE TIME ON THEIR HANDS
Ever watch a custodian sweeping in slow motion? That means he's killing time on the job. While comparisons are odious, it might seem some scientific researchers are doing the same thing. Finding projects to carry out whose purpose and payoff are a little marginal. Take the ones digging up "Lusitania," Titanic" and "daVinci."
LUSITANIA
In 1915, with WWI being waged in Europe, 118 Americans died when a German U-Boat torpedoed the French liner "Lusitania" off the coast of Ireland. Americans -- still neutral at this point -- had been warned by Germany not to book passage on ships traveling war zones.
OK, so everyone who paid attention in history class knows this. What they may not know is that the young, able-bodied passengers survived at an 8% rate higher than people over 35. The liner sank in 18 minutes, so the researchers have concluded: "When people have little time to react, their survival instincts kick in more than their altruism instincts."
The elderly who went down with the ship discovered this the hard way...
TITANIC
In the case of the "Titanic" iceberg sinking in 1912, it took about three hours to go down to its watery grave. Researchers argue that the time factor explains the difference in the survival rate. With "Titanic," women and children were up to 53% more likely to survive than men. Research director Benno Torgler tells "Science News" that when there is more time, social instincts play a bigger role than survival instincts.
"People will sacrifice themselves, but time is crucial. The elements that re-trigger social interactions only emerge after time."
True or not, that's how director James Cameron told it...
da VINCI
Another research committee is hard at work in Italy trying to exhume the body of Leonardo da Vinci. Why? They want to check a pet theory about his masterpiece "Mona Lisa."
Anthropologist Giorgio Gruppioni, of Italy's National Committee for Cultural Heritage, suggests that they have long believed da Vinci was gay. But some also suspect he may have been a cross-dresser.
"If we manage to find his skull," said Gruppioni, "we could rebuild Leonardo's face, and compare it with the Mona Lisa." The theory here is that the "Mona Lisa" was a self-portrait. Requests to dig up the master's remains at Chateau d'Ambroise in France are under -- shall we say, questionable -- consideration.
+++++++++++++
Are these examples of modern science at its best...? At it's silliest...? Or is all this what we are often told -- humanity's relentless need to know who, what and why we are....? In any case, I personally don't believe these are the ones who can tell us.
LUSITANIA
In 1915, with WWI being waged in Europe, 118 Americans died when a German U-Boat torpedoed the French liner "Lusitania" off the coast of Ireland. Americans -- still neutral at this point -- had been warned by Germany not to book passage on ships traveling war zones.
OK, so everyone who paid attention in history class knows this. What they may not know is that the young, able-bodied passengers survived at an 8% rate higher than people over 35. The liner sank in 18 minutes, so the researchers have concluded: "When people have little time to react, their survival instincts kick in more than their altruism instincts."
The elderly who went down with the ship discovered this the hard way...
TITANIC
In the case of the "Titanic" iceberg sinking in 1912, it took about three hours to go down to its watery grave. Researchers argue that the time factor explains the difference in the survival rate. With "Titanic," women and children were up to 53% more likely to survive than men. Research director Benno Torgler tells "Science News" that when there is more time, social instincts play a bigger role than survival instincts.
"People will sacrifice themselves, but time is crucial. The elements that re-trigger social interactions only emerge after time."
True or not, that's how director James Cameron told it...
da VINCI
Another research committee is hard at work in Italy trying to exhume the body of Leonardo da Vinci. Why? They want to check a pet theory about his masterpiece "Mona Lisa."
Anthropologist Giorgio Gruppioni, of Italy's National Committee for Cultural Heritage, suggests that they have long believed da Vinci was gay. But some also suspect he may have been a cross-dresser.
"If we manage to find his skull," said Gruppioni, "we could rebuild Leonardo's face, and compare it with the Mona Lisa." The theory here is that the "Mona Lisa" was a self-portrait. Requests to dig up the master's remains at Chateau d'Ambroise in France are under -- shall we say, questionable -- consideration.
+++++++++++++
Are these examples of modern science at its best...? At it's silliest...? Or is all this what we are often told -- humanity's relentless need to know who, what and why we are....? In any case, I personally don't believe these are the ones who can tell us.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
HAVENS IN THE HELLS OF OUR CITIES
If we begin with the premise that large, modern American cities -- with all their noise, congestion, and violence -- have often become hells on earth, are there any havens to be found in them? The answer is obvious: Yes. The examples, however, are not so obvious. Each city dweller will have their own particular choices. As a committed urban dweller, I have found at least two havens. One, a musical universal: Mozart. The other, a surprise choice to many: High School.
MOZART
Wolfgang is an easy pick. Everybody from musicologists to biologists to new parents have joyously discovered the musical magic of Mozart. This dead-by-36, foul-mouthed genius generated some of the most dazzling yet sedating compositions ever penned (and, yes, he is said to have used pen, because he rarely had to make corrections).
Life is a bombast of musical beats, but Mozart drew from deep within the mystery of his soul to craft beats and notes like no other. It has been said God himself permitted a Mozart so the rest of us could hear a little of what Heaven is like.
All I know is when the mathematical majesty of Mozart's music fills my heart, I am become someone else. A better someone for his energizing presence. But wait! This is no esoteric elitism talking. I'm talking everyday subways here. I still remember the afternoon I watched this monstrously large, rapper-looking kid from the city streets plugged into his iPod. Any other time I would have felt fear. This time I got to see what he was being transfixed by.
That's right...! Mozart would have been pleased.
HIGH SCHOOL
High school is also a universal. Universally shuddered at once we've graduated it. You know -- the acne, the self-consciousness, the cult of popularity that was always just beyond our reach. But I'm not talking about the kids here. I'm talking about the faculty.
Until you've been on a high school faculty, you have no idea of what an astonishing haven these campuses can be. Oh, not the worst schools (some of them are as disastrous as they report); but the good ones, where order and learning and friendships have somehow been preserved.
Think about it. A good high school campus is a city within a city. It's own borders...buildings...schedules... meals....games... arts....romances,..expectations...inspirations...pursuits. From 8 to 5, the place throbs with energy, with growth, with fun; and as a member of the faculty, you're a vital part of it all. Now that's a feeling hard to find throughout most of our cities and their humdrum daily lives.
This is not say being part of the faculty isn't challenging. It is. But once you've been there, it's hard to ever be as important again...!
MOZART
Wolfgang is an easy pick. Everybody from musicologists to biologists to new parents have joyously discovered the musical magic of Mozart. This dead-by-36, foul-mouthed genius generated some of the most dazzling yet sedating compositions ever penned (and, yes, he is said to have used pen, because he rarely had to make corrections).
Life is a bombast of musical beats, but Mozart drew from deep within the mystery of his soul to craft beats and notes like no other. It has been said God himself permitted a Mozart so the rest of us could hear a little of what Heaven is like.
All I know is when the mathematical majesty of Mozart's music fills my heart, I am become someone else. A better someone for his energizing presence. But wait! This is no esoteric elitism talking. I'm talking everyday subways here. I still remember the afternoon I watched this monstrously large, rapper-looking kid from the city streets plugged into his iPod. Any other time I would have felt fear. This time I got to see what he was being transfixed by.
That's right...! Mozart would have been pleased.
HIGH SCHOOL
High school is also a universal. Universally shuddered at once we've graduated it. You know -- the acne, the self-consciousness, the cult of popularity that was always just beyond our reach. But I'm not talking about the kids here. I'm talking about the faculty.
Until you've been on a high school faculty, you have no idea of what an astonishing haven these campuses can be. Oh, not the worst schools (some of them are as disastrous as they report); but the good ones, where order and learning and friendships have somehow been preserved.
Think about it. A good high school campus is a city within a city. It's own borders...buildings...schedules... meals....games... arts....romances,..expectations...inspirations...pursuits. From 8 to 5, the place throbs with energy, with growth, with fun; and as a member of the faculty, you're a vital part of it all. Now that's a feeling hard to find throughout most of our cities and their humdrum daily lives.
This is not say being part of the faculty isn't challenging. It is. But once you've been there, it's hard to ever be as important again...!
Friday, March 12, 2010
IS BEING CONNECTED ALL IT'S CRACKED UP TO BE?
Long gone are the days when Rousseau and Thoreau waxed eloquent about the nobility of our savagery. Whereas they dreamed of the bliss of being isolated within nature, our modern world has seen to it that virtually no one will ever be isolated again. Like it or not, we are now and forever connected every minute of every day. Left here to speculate what wonders and/or wretchedness this shall mean. Consider the chronology of our connectivity.....
TELEGRAPH, TELEPHONE & RADIO
When the first telegraph line was laid between New England and Texas, Thoreau creatively asked: "But does New England have anything to say to Texas?"
The same question could soon be applied to Bell's telephones and Marconi's radios. By the early 20th C, nations like ours were so thoroughly cris-crossed with wires/lines/waves, locked closets were often the last refuge of the private person. Progress? Yes, in many wondrous ways; and yet what emerged was this genie of compulsion that we now had to stay connected all the time.
Curious to watch how the consensus-building power of these connectivity tools has recently been resisted, as each race and ethnicity among us demands its "own voice." The results include niche broadcasting and individualized courses of study, all emphasizing the Me much more than the We.
FLIGHT
Thanks to those intrepid Wrights, mankind at long last gained wings. In its early days, aviation was the new freedom. Freedom to fly and soar and hold the entire world in the palm of our flight tickets.
But once again, irony struck. Hijackings and terrorists eventually transformed flight into frenzy. What had once been a joy, has now become a gamble. Long lines ....intrusive security checks...endless tarmac delays... pinched services have all made air travel as much hassle as happiness.
Hard to explain this irony. What began as the blessings of global connectivity have somehow soured. I can still hear my skeptical old uncles grunting: "If God wanted us to fly he would have given us wings!"
TELEVISION AND INTERNET
The final touch on the canvass of connectivity has been television and the Internet. Right now there isn't a place or a person on the planet that can't somehow be reached by their invisible fingers. A marvel. A miracle. A masterpiece of human ingenuity.
And yet, the same-old, same-old. Television...? Still that vast cultural wasteland. The Internet...? Often becoming overwhelmed by the voices of the inmates to the asylum. Why is this so? Why does it seem each time our species climbs a new mountain, it seems to trip into new valleys?
++++++
When all is said and done and communicated, here's where we once again find ourselves. A zealously ambitious herd of mammals that simply can't be satisfied with what is. And so the eternal hunt for what can be.
This is our wiring and our wonder. Also, it would seem, our fortune and our fate.
So here we are, connecting with one another whether YOU really like it or not.....!!
TELEGRAPH, TELEPHONE & RADIO
When the first telegraph line was laid between New England and Texas, Thoreau creatively asked: "But does New England have anything to say to Texas?"
The same question could soon be applied to Bell's telephones and Marconi's radios. By the early 20th C, nations like ours were so thoroughly cris-crossed with wires/lines/waves, locked closets were often the last refuge of the private person. Progress? Yes, in many wondrous ways; and yet what emerged was this genie of compulsion that we now had to stay connected all the time.
Curious to watch how the consensus-building power of these connectivity tools has recently been resisted, as each race and ethnicity among us demands its "own voice." The results include niche broadcasting and individualized courses of study, all emphasizing the Me much more than the We.
FLIGHT
Thanks to those intrepid Wrights, mankind at long last gained wings. In its early days, aviation was the new freedom. Freedom to fly and soar and hold the entire world in the palm of our flight tickets.
But once again, irony struck. Hijackings and terrorists eventually transformed flight into frenzy. What had once been a joy, has now become a gamble. Long lines ....intrusive security checks...endless tarmac delays... pinched services have all made air travel as much hassle as happiness.
Hard to explain this irony. What began as the blessings of global connectivity have somehow soured. I can still hear my skeptical old uncles grunting: "If God wanted us to fly he would have given us wings!"
TELEVISION AND INTERNET
The final touch on the canvass of connectivity has been television and the Internet. Right now there isn't a place or a person on the planet that can't somehow be reached by their invisible fingers. A marvel. A miracle. A masterpiece of human ingenuity.
And yet, the same-old, same-old. Television...? Still that vast cultural wasteland. The Internet...? Often becoming overwhelmed by the voices of the inmates to the asylum. Why is this so? Why does it seem each time our species climbs a new mountain, it seems to trip into new valleys?
++++++
When all is said and done and communicated, here's where we once again find ourselves. A zealously ambitious herd of mammals that simply can't be satisfied with what is. And so the eternal hunt for what can be.
This is our wiring and our wonder. Also, it would seem, our fortune and our fate.
So here we are, connecting with one another whether YOU really like it or not.....!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)