ray's blog


August 14, 2017
          I love the Blues. It is my preferred form of music, and not because of any over-identifying with Black culture. I love it because it is the music of survivors, and it literally sings American history.

the March Rant

March 26, 2017
(late in getting this aboard)
          With the month of March, it is time to ruminate on some things; things like an amazement at what turns my path has taken in recent months...and years too, I suppose.

Big Lake

      I was sitting alone last Spring in the new lunchroom of the Plaza Super One, looking out on a beautiful afternoon on the Big Lake, when a feeling came over me. (A feeling often does, looking out on the Big Lake,) I am not sure if Ii can put this feeling into words, but I want to try. It was the shank of the afternoon, and there was no one else around. I was simply killing some time before I was to attend an unpleasant social event - thed kind of gathering for which I am not particularly well-designed.

Just Thinkling

I know it has been a bit of time since the last blog - busy, you understand. For the benefit of the CIA, the FBI, and anyone else, public or private who gives a damn about what I have to say, herre goes:
           I was just thinking about humasn ignorance, especially including my own. I thought that all the national systems and procedures (created by mankind, of course) worked like they were supposed to. Oblivious to history, I never thought that these systems could be so easily corrupted, and work against a secular democracy.

Slaughter in Paris – Friday the Thirteenth, November 2015

I was hit with a serious, awful realization today. It is dispiriting and frightening to watch as the world marches ever closer to another international conflagration. This one that’s coming will be worse than anything yet seen. Few of us will walk away from it. There will be no winners; only ugly death. For one thing, it is an evil god that commands its subjects to kill others for not joining the club. Thus any god so directing is evil, and it produces chaos and barbarity. I sit here watching the news reports about today’s slaughter in Paris.


It’s funny how things can come to you sometimes. Unexpected light can shine through years of opaque memory. One of my Friends Meeting colleagues was scheduled to give a talk about the development of his spiritual path after meeting today. He titled it “This I believe”, without an awareness of the Radio show and two volumes of like-titled international essays. What a talk it was! His life, as he eloquently and perceptively described it, touched similar points in mine all along the line.

A Little Natural Miracle

A Little Natural Miracle
            I witnessed a miracle today. Oh, this was no God-changing-nature supernatural thing. It’s too hard to swallow one of those water-into-wine fantasies. One does not need to see the Red Sea parted to follow a path. It was more a sign – or a message – of the dawning of a new season.

Where the Light Comes From

Where the Light Comes From
Sunday, January 18
Something a little more positive to begin the New Year:
I was recently overcome with a feeling of spiritual and – was it moral? – or ‘Service to Others’? – impotency. It is a regularly-occurring feeling of mine, but this had a specific source. I was reading the obituary notices in Friends Journal, the Quaker magazine, of Barbara Nokka.


SEASONAL THOUGHTS, End-of-Year Rant 2014

Visual Music

VISUAL MUSIC (July 1, 2014)

After enduring long days of oppressive, hopeless fog, sunrise finally arrived to the land. The warmth and the bright daylight reminded me of things I have said in the past, concerning the holiness, the sacristy of music in our lives. And Mother Nature always provides.

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