Icewind's Ramblings

I had a few minutes early this morning where I was trying to sit and write for awhile but nothing came into my mind. Usually on Saturday mornings I head out early for breakfast with friends but this morning everyone was out of town so I figured I could sit and work on several book projects that I am working on or post a few things in one of the forums I frequent. It did not immediately occur to me to work on this blog so I sat staring into this blank sheet with nothing in mind. It became clear that nothing would be the mental exercise of the day. Normally trying to write about nothing occurs in an essay, usually one with a word requirement that you need to fill for some reason or another. But here I will attempt to rationalize that nothing doesn’t exist and is a moot concept. The concept of nothing as a ‘normal mind’ comprehends it is a room, maybe a box, which is void of things, hence “no things” but that, of course isn’t true. Thousands even millions of molecules, electr

A husband and wife are getting ready for bed. The wife is standing in front of a full-length mirror taking a real hard look at herself. "You know, dear," she says, "I look in the mirror, and I see an old woman. My face is all wrinkled, my boobs are barely above my waist, and my butt is hanging out a mile. I've got fat legs, and my arms are all flabby." She turns to her husband and says, "Tell me something positive to make me feel better about myself." He studies hard for a moment thinking about it and then says in a soft, thoughtful voice, "Well honey, there's nothing wrong with your eyesight. Ice

Grilling on the Fourth is the best! and who could forget this festival: Have a Happy Holiday! Ice

I cannot let this Independence Day weekend pass without harkening back to one of the greatest poems ever written. Now, granted, most of you (hopefully ALL) know the poem’s first verse by heart. But how many of you knew that there are three more? Let’s go back to the War of 1812, when a young American lawyer went aboard a British ship of war to try and secure the release of a friend that had been taken prisoner. From the deck of that ship, the man watched as Fort McHenry was bombarded by British forces. He watched with amazement the battle that raged on through the night. And as dawn broke the next morning, Francis Scott Key looked to the fort for some glimpse of hope that the men within had not fallen. Above the ruined walls of the fort, to Key’s amazement and surprise, was none other than Old Glory Herself. Tattered and torn, but still flying free. The words of his poem were set to an old English drinking song, entitled To Anacreon in Heaven. The Navy and Army