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The Language Company
Timothy M. Leonard's books on Goodreads
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Wednesday
Jun082016

Omar Sings The Blues - TLC 82

As if it was yesterday in the long now exploring the Sahara removed from death, chaos, sirens and heavy equipment filtering dust while conducting 3,000 funerals the day after 9/11, Lucky who’d arrived in Morocco by chance, timing and fate having left the states of confusion on September 1, 2001 did not take possession of that towering event.

He suggested to Omar, a Touareg ghostwriter it was about poverty, economics, revenge and fanatical religious beliefs.

Conditioned to survival, bartering and getting the best price with ABC Omar understood. Clearly. “A person cannot drink or eat more than they need.”

Hospitality described 90% of the population with nothing to do. Five million made less than $1.00 a day.

His Touareg tribe migrated from Mali, Southern Algeria and Mauritania. Prior to 1956 six million Touareg lived on nine million square kilometers of desert. Now 7-10,000 internally displaced Touareg lived in the Sahara Occidental.

“Your enemy is my friend,” he said. His tribe conquered and ruled Spain for centuries.

Timing, the secret of everything shifted dynamics and frequencies.

Omar had seen planes above sands of time. He’d seen boring television with screaming commenters selling fear. One size fits all. He considered TV the most insane invention of all time. It was an artificial projection stealing someone’s consciousness.

He didn’t buy the propaganda lies media soft machines tried to sell 24/7.

Towers up. Towers down. Miracles of aviation history were made in Hollywood. Ratings. Reruns. Media and governments increased advertising and defense budgets selling cheap ignorance, fear and terror to blind sheep.

The Language Company

 

Tuesday
Jun072016

invent a history

Inside laughter she cleaned his ears.

She's young, thin in a crisp white blouse with lipstick and recently married.

Men sweat. Women glow.

Her clean stainless steel tools removed babble, bike horns, whispers, ghost stories, lies, truth, encouraging symbolic metaphors, musical saws describing ice, a little hammer breaking ice.

INVENT A HISTORY

What's your greatest sorrow?

What's your greatest joy?

(Memory)

10 things you love.

10 things you dislike.

Confront your deepest shadow.

Tolerant and open minded. The greatest happiness = acceptance and gratitude.

You are a ghost here.

This is why people stare.

Everyone your age is dead.

 

Sunday
Jun052016

every day is a celebration

A man, wise or a fool must prepare for their end.

Cemetery space, chop wood for a cremation ceremony, white linen cloth, final letters, fixtures and fittings, a guest list. Every day is a celebration .

River. Bell. Bow. Mirror.

Laughter in the tea house. Survivors are happy. One has a secret.

Weaving women.

Everything I do is an experiment.

I am an iceberg.

Want you don't see is fascinating, below the surface.

Composite characters.

People talk about people talking about people.

It's fucking hysterical.

Saturday
Jun042016

Dr. Death - TLC 81

After eating Turkey with trimmings, Simon Says, a fat jovial American educator with an M.A. in Obscurity collecting centuries on his resume escaped Indonesian archipelagoes on short notice.  

He accepted a new job in the Middle Eats to pay for his emergency life support expenses while employed at a private Jakarta school.

Lucky returned home from his fare-thee-well dinner of grilled-fired fish, rice, veggies and giant prawns swimming in garlic to discover a medium size cock-a-roach scurrying toward dark safety.

One room smelled of Turkish delight, a sweet gooey mixture of nuts, berries and flakey pastry. Another room was resplendent with tropical bird songs and silk warbling blues riffs, improvisational cool cello bass lines and the sweet taste of a flute.

Behind locked doors sad, lonely, angry, and neglected spoiled crying Asian and Turkish humans rehearsed songs of alienation, loneliness and boredom.

Amnesic rooms dancing with autocratic sensations remembered how Simon perceived his decision to decline a doctor’s advice and proceeded with a dangerous medical exploratory option to check out the source of his internal distress.

“No anesthetic,” Simon told Doctor Death. This decision almost killed him in a microscopic moment inside Time, a valiant teacher, an educator, facilitator and an arrow of non-renewable resource. His decision cost him vast quantities of blood. He needed many transfusions from barbarians and strangers.

During exploratory surgery Simon felt a warm light bathing his skeleton. Understanding by Design.

Simon saw God. God said, “Later Simon. I will wait for you.”

 Simon was frayed fabric. A needle dripped volunteered slavery. Lying in his hospital bed Simon contemplated what is life.

Mental gymnastics: Why do simple medical challenges escalate into a life-threatening crisis? Rash misunderstanding of how and why my body said, give me pain killers and my monkey mind ego extinguished flashing rational emergency lights ignoring warning signals common sense and professional medical advice. 

Being a Super Hero had its risks and rewards.

The Language Company

Thursday
Jun022016

be the nib. be the ink. be the paper.

Women hack and chop in dark dingy kitchens.

Fourteen Khmer men sit at tables talking decibels.

The one who talks loudest is the winner.

Some sit silent staring into their vast repertory of memories. They are survivors.

A drama tv sitcom with a hero, girl, quest for love, understanding, medicine, food, obstacles, rising action, climax and falling action accompanied by dancing music and shadows from well worn speakers play out.

See with soft eyes.

A ghost scribbles old cursive ink stories.

Be the ink. Be the paper. Be the nib.