Category Archives: WiNiP

WiNiP – Worse Than Failure v9.11a

What I Noticed in Passing…. 

Waiting for his bus, Ethan proudly surveys the evolving eco-world with a captivating sense of élan. He’s committed to and fulfilled by the roll he plays as part of the Administration’s plan to change the face and complexion of America. It’s a new day, a new way and a new war; a people and a planet that must be saved, regardless. 

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WiNiP – The Ebb of Decline v7.11

What I Noticed in Passing….

“The lowest ebb is the turn of the tide.”

In the closing line of his poem, “Loss and Gain,” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow crafts a remarkably intimate sense of outcome. In the grander sense of his complete verse (which I include below), his words refine the totality of possible error to which one may be a risk if looking only to the past as a mechanism for predicting the future.

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WiNiP – Scores of Unwilling v5.11a

What I Noticed in Passing…. 

Tired and fatigued, sometimes beaten, bruised and grieving; he is a soldier, weary and withered. In search of courage he lies tepid beneath the shroud of the uncertain, the unseen and the unspoken. Rigid in his form he is transfixed within his lair whilst the storm consumed with rage blusters about the land. 

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WiNiP – The Rise of Willing Failure v2.11

What I Noticed in Passing…. 

Recently I’ve come under attack for my commentaries relating to what I observe as the core issue of this nations great divide. Yes, I believe the core issue is Our interpretation of this notion we call Freedom and how and in what way we express it through the mechanisms of Liberty.  We might (even) explain the point in this way: 

“The Ideal of Freedom is brought to Life through the manner in which we believe we are at Liberty to do so.  The greater ones sacred notion of Freedom, the greater ones desire to preserve the Liberty to express Freedom.” 

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WiNiP – The Hand & Drop v11.10a

What I Noticed in Passing….

“Once, over the passing of many days, the hand upon the clock makes time to pause. The hand wonders if his pause suspends the passing of all things or if only he is the one to notice his standing still.

A drop of rain, once the article of many composed within the clouds, falls freely rejoicing in her independent form. She wonders, her destination approaching, what then becomes of me apart from who I am?

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