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Confucius Lives Next Door, What living in the East teaches us about living in the West by T.R. Reid

Fascinating.

Edited by planted

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After re-reading Hammer Of The Gods for a second time, I've finally gotten a chance to move onto 'Life' by Keef' Richardsbiggrin.gif

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Anybody remember this one?

41st02iPZ1L.jpg

This was my favorite book as a child:

Captain Kitty by Godfree Lynn and Elizabeth Web

... and apparently I'm not alone:

"I have no clue where we'd found this book - probably at the "Airmens' Attic" or the base thrift store shortly after we'd moved to RAF Upper Heyford, England. My son was about three and my daughter an infant. Although we just about read the covers off that book, I think we still have it packed somewhere with the childrens' other toys and books. My memory has always been very poor, BUT, I remember that book rather clearly after 19 years! I think we read it every night for months! Then it would re-surface with regularity over the next five years or so. Such a sweet story - calm and perfect for bed-time with its soothing cadence and soft pictures. A true gem of a book!" ...

"This was far and away my daughter's favorite book. I would be obliged to read it every day with her sitting in my lap, and at the end she would exclaim "Again". After a few weeks I was able to memorize the book and could read the newspaper while she held the book and I recited the text." ...

"Actually, i am not Dave, i am his wife. I went to PS 50 in the Bronx. There was a book fair there one day and this is the one i chose. I had many a golden book, comic books, and library books were available, but this was the first big picture book i chose by its cover. I was 8 years old and am now 57. I still remember the catchy rhyming story, most of it, and the beautiful and imaginative pictures.I see there is no way to browse the book, so here is a bit of the poetry, as i remember it. "Oh, Captain Kitty, where have you been?" "i've been sailing the ocean blue, and (wife's name) went as my good, first mate, and Perly and Mew were the Crew" "We sailed and sailed for over a week, we followed our noses by day, and when the stars came out at night, we followed the milky way"-There are cats from around the world, a persian cat who is queen and wears a shell on her head as a crown. It is also well illustrated. i think mine may have had a different cover though, i thik the story is the same, same cat." ...

"This was my favorite book as a child, and the first one I learned to read! I was so glad to find it again! The pictures are delightful, and the story is sweet. I plan to keep my "new" copy to read to my grandson some day, so he can enjoy it like I did once upon a time."

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the-replacements-all-over-but-the-shouting-takes-the-oral-history-format-too-far.1824671.40.jpg

Never did finish reading this after I first purchased it so I've picked it back up again.

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I'm not very far into it, but I'm liking it. It was written by one of my college classmates.

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The Mysterious Life and Death

of Philip Schneider

By Tim Swartz with assistance from Cynthia Drayer

Al Pratt suspected something was wrong with his friend Philip Schneider. phil1.jpgFor several days in a row, Al had gone to Phil's apartment, in Willsonville, Oregon, saw his car in the parking lot, but received no answer at the door. Finally, on January 17th, 1996, Al Pratt, along with the manager of the Autumn Park Apartments and a detective from the Clackamas County Sheriff's office entered the apartment. Inside, they found the body of Philip Schneider. Apparently he had been dead for five to seven days. The Clackamas County Coroner's office initially attributed Philip Schneider's death to a stroke. However, in the following days disturbing details about his death began to surface, leading some to believe that Philip Schneider had not died from a stroke, but had in fact been murdered.

Philip Schneider's life was certainly as controversial as his death. He was born on April 23, 1947 at Bethesda Navy Hospital. Philip's parents were Oscar and Sally Schneider. Oscar Schneider was a Captain in the United States Navy, worked in nuclear medicine and helped design the first nuclear submarines. Captain Schneider was also part of OPERATION CROSSROADS, which was responsible for the testing of nuclear weapons in the Pacific AT Bikini Island. In a lecture videotaped in May 1996, Philip Schneider claimed that his father, Captain Oscar Schneider, was also involved with the infamous "Philadelphia Experiment." In addition, Philip claimed to be an ex-government structural engineer who was involved in building underground military bases (DUMB) around the country, and to be one of only three people to survive the 1979 incident between the alien Grays and U.S. military forces at the Dulce underground base. Philip Schneider's ex-wife, Cynthia Drayer believes that Philip was murdered because he publicly revealed the truth about the U.S. government's involvement with UFOs.

Also read: Philip Schneider, Murder By Suicide!

phiffam1.jpg For two years prior to his death, Philip Schneider had been on a lecture tour talking about government cover-ups, black budgets, and UFOs. Philip stated in his lecture that in 1954, under the Eisenhower administration, the federal government decided to circumvent the Constitution and form a treaty with extraterrestrials. The treaty was called the 1954 Greada Treaty.

Officials agreed that for extraterrestrial technology, the Grays could test their implanting techniques on select citizens. However, the extraterrestrials had to inform the government just who had been abducted and subject to implants. Slowly over time, the aliens altered the bargain, abducting and implanting thousands of people without reporting back to the government.

In 1979, Philip was employed by Morrison-Knudsen, Inc. He was involved in building an addition to the deep underground military base at Dulce, New Mexico. The project at that time had drilled four holes in the desert that were to be linked together with tunnels. Philip's job was to go down the holes, check the rock samples, and recommend the explosives to deal with the particular rock. In the process, the workers accidentally opened a large artificial cavern, a secret base for the aliens known as Grays. In the panic that occurred, sixty-seven workers and military personnel were killed, with Philip Schneider being one of only three people to survive. Philip claimed that scars on his chest were caused by his being struck by an alien weapon that would later result in cancer due to the radiation.

If Philip Schneider's claims are true, then his knowledge of the secret government, UFOs and other information kept from the public, could have serious repercussions to the world as we know it. In his lectures, Philip spoke on such topics as the Space-Defense-Initiative, black helicopters, railroad cars built with shackles to contain political prisoners, the World Trade Center bombing, and the secret black budget.

Quotes taken from a lecture given by Philip Schneider in May, 1995, at Post Falls, Idaho.

Railroad Cars

"Recently, I knew someone who lived near where I live in Portland, Oregon. He worked at Gunderson Steel Fabrication, where they make railroad cars. Now, I knew this fellow for the better part of 30 years, and he was kind of a quiet type. He came in to see me one day excited, and he told me 'they're building prisoner cars.' He was nervous. Gunderson, he said, had a contract with the federal government to build 107,200 full length railroad cars, each with 143 pairs of shackles. There are 11 sub-contractors in this giant project. Supposedly, Gunderson got over 2 billion dollars for the contract. Bethlehem Steel and other steel outfits are involved. He showed me one of the cars in the rail yards in North Portland. He was right. If you multiply 107,200 times 143 times 11, you come up with about 15,000,000. This is probably the number of people who disagree with the federal government. "

Related Links:

• <A href="http://www.ufodigest.com/schneider.html">Philip Schneider: Government Secrets Revealed

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I've just finished reading Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf and Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen. I'm not a big fan of books like this but it was in my syllabus so I had to read it. They are actually good, I liked them.

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A great read, a companion to 'The Dark Stuff', his collection of articles from 70s NME & elsewhere. Quite a bit of LZ content, including a tale I hadn't heard before about Peter Grant sitting on a sleeping Vernon Presley :lol:

Kent's taste mirrors mine uncannily, so I was delighted when I came across this passage concerning my ultimate hated group (yes, I DO hate them), which I found so amusing and spot-on that I'm gonna type it out for you all:

'My next assignment was a sudden lurch from the sublime [Nick Drake] to the ridiculous. NME had found a patron to pay for my round-trip airfare to LA and a weeks' worth of hotel bills - after which I was to be left to my own devices. There was one snag, however: the patron was Jethro Tull.

'In Christopher Headlington's lofty tome A History of Western Music, Claude Debussy is quoted as having once claimed that he favoured featuring flute in the foreground of many of his compositions because he felt the slender wind instrument possessed the mystical power 'of a melancholy Puck (the mischievous sprite in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream) questioning the hidden meaning of things'. But Jethro Tull leader Ian Anderson showcased it in his own repertoire for less poetic reasons. He tootled away on it because it added a suitably mellifluous 'age of Aquarius' tonality to his group's otherwise generic late-sixties blues-rock bleatings and because it was also a useful prop for his incessant human-scarecrow posturing whenever he found himself in front of a paying audience.

'The Tull had started out as trailblazing 'crusties' but soon jettisoned their initial 'playing the blues for greatcoat-sporting students who rarely wash themselves' gameplan to climb aboard the good ship 'prog rock' and seek their fortune through playing electrified madrigals in 7/4 time with lyrics about high-born lusty temptresses beating stable-boys' naked buttocks with a riding crop. Against all conventional logic, their new direction paid off like a one-armed bandit choking up its entire contents of coinage to some dumb-lucky gambler. By 1975 they were one of the world's biggest-selling musical attractions. In America they could sell out all the mega-barns any promoter could throw at them. In Los Angeles alone, they'd been booked for four consecutive nights at the prestigious 20,000-seater-capacity Felt Forum. That's what I'd essentially been flown in to trumpet back to the home front. They seemed to think I'd happily adapt to the role of becoming their token media shill but as usual I had other more personal agendas to pursue.

'Their US press officer - a shrill, hyperactive Bobbi Flekman lookalike with a voice like paint-stripper - met me at the airport and then drove me straight to the first of the Felt Forum shows previewed for that evening. I was already in a bad way from the jet lag - as well as probable drug withdrawal - and considered my imminent fate much like a prisoner about to face the gallows. Marshalling a half-hearted stiff upper lip, I staggered into the huge auditorium only to find myself in a scene to rank with Dante's Inferno: 20,000 double-ugly Americans going gaga over a musical spectacle so bizarre that it beggared description and which none of them could have even remotely comprehended. If they had, they wouldn't have been there in the first place. Each song the Tull performed was as long and windy as a discourse on agrarian reform in the nineteenth century, and to top it all they'd incorporate old Monty Python sketches into their routine and pretend to their Yankee rube fan base - who'd yet to see Python on the telly in their country - that they were doing something audaciously original. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. Where was the appeal? Why all the bums on seats? I asked Anderson these very questions later and even he was at a loss to explain his group's popularity. But I already knew - it was bad taste, pure and simple. They say good taste is timeless. But bad taste has been around just as long and is invariably more lucrative'.

Kent goes on to score some smack via Iggy Pop, and since he has no money apart from traveller's cheques, he buys a hairdryer and other stuff the dealer fancied from the hotel shop on room service, and charged it all to Tull. CLASS!

Edited by bouillon

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Currently reading two books:

'Monuments Men' (The guys who saved and recovered the stolen Nazi art)

'Blue Blood' about the NYC cop/detective and his stories of working the Bronx projects et al.

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By blackglove at 2011-06-18

Saw this at the bookstore yesterday, does anyone have a brief recommendation whether it is worth picking up or not?

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Not yet, but I really want to see the Facebook movie! And I want to read "Eat, Pray, Love" too.

I finally started re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows the other day; I'm about 150 pages in and it's like reading it for the first time, I'd forgotten everything. I'm actually thinking I need to re-read the 6th book too (or at least the end).

Loved the Eat, Pray, Love movie. Watching that movie was like watching myself.

Loved the Deathly Hallows book. So much more is in the book than the movie. It is a must read before going to see the last Harry Potter movie for understanding the intricate details.

Edited by imPLANTed

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11947_jpg_280x450_q85.jpg

A great read, a companion to 'The Dark Stuff', his collection of articles from 70s NME & elsewhere. Quite a bit of LZ content, including a tale I hadn't heard before about Peter Grant sitting on a sleeping Vernon Presley :lol:

Kent's taste mirrors mine uncannily, so I was delighted when I came across this passage concerning my ultimate hated group (yes, I DO hate them), which I found so amusing and spot-on that I'm gonna type it out for you all:

'My next assignment was a sudden lurch from the sublime [Nick Drake] to the ridiculous. NME had found a patron to pay for my round-trip airfare to LA and a weeks' worth of hotel bills - after which I was to be left to my own devices. There was one snag, however: the patron was Jethro Tull.

'In Christopher Headlington's lofty tome A History of Western Music, Claude Debussy is quoted as having once claimed that he favoured featuring flute in the foreground of many of his compositions because he felt the slender wind instrument possessed the mystical power 'of a melancholy Puck (the mischievous sprite in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream) questioning the hidden meaning of things'. But Jethro Tull leader Ian Anderson showcased it in his own repertoire for less poetic reasons. He tootled away on it because it added a suitably mellifluous 'age of Aquarius' tonality to his group's otherwise generic late-sixties blues-rock bleatings and because it was also a useful prop for his incessant human-scarecrow posturing whenever he found himself in front of a paying audience.

'The Tull had started out as trailblazing 'crusties' but soon jettisoned their initial 'playing the blues for greatcoat-sporting students who rarely wash themselves' gameplan to climb aboard the good ship 'prog rock' and seek their fortune through playing electrified madrigals in 7/4 time with lyrics about high-born lusty temptresses beating stable-boys' naked buttocks with a riding crop. Against all conventional logic, their new direction paid off like a one-armed bandit choking up its entire contents of coinage to some dumb-lucky gambler. By 1975 they were one of the world's biggest-selling musical attractions. In America they could sell out all the mega-barns any promoter could throw at them. In Los Angeles alone, they'd been booked for four consecutive nights at the prestigious 20,000-seater-capacity Felt Forum. That's what I'd essentially been flown in to trumpet back to the home front. They seemed to think I'd happily adapt to the role of becoming their token media shill but as usual I had other more personal agendas to pursue.

'Their US press officer - a shrill, hyperactive Bobbi Flekman lookalike with a voice like paint-stripper - met me at the airport and then drove me straight to the first of the Felt Forum shows previewed for that evening. I was already in a bad way from the jet lag - as well as probable drug withdrawal - and considered my imminent fate much like a prisoner about to face the gallows. Marshalling a half-hearted stiff upper lip, I staggered into the huge auditorium only to find myself in a scene to rank with Dante's Inferno: 20,000 double-ugly Americans going gaga over a musical spectacle so bizarre that it beggared description and which none of them could have even remotely comprehended. If they had, they wouldn't have been there in the first place. Each song the Tull performed was as long and windy as a discourse on agrarian reform in the nineteenth century, and to top it all they'd incorporate old Monty Python sketches into their routine and pretend to their Yankee rube fan base - who'd yet to see Python on the telly in their country - that they were doing something audaciously original. I couldn't believe my eyes and ears. Where was the appeal? Why all the bums on seats? I asked Anderson these very questions later and even he was at a loss to explain his group's popularity. But I already knew - it was bad taste, pure and simple. They say good taste is timeless. But bad taste has been around just as long and is invariably more lucrative'.

Kent goes on to score some smack via Iggy Pop, and since he has no money apart from traveller's cheques, he buys a hairdryer and other stuff the dealer fancied from the hotel shop on room service, and charged it all to Tull. CLASS!

:hysterical::hysterical::hysterical:

That is SO SPOT ON! Nick Kent was one of those guys I always read in the '70's, like Lester Bangs and Hunter S. Thompson and Greil Marcus. They were my guides. And I may have not agreed with everything Nick wrote, he was NEVER boring. I've read both his books, and that Tull bit is one of my fave bits.

Although, you can see the damage drugs do to the memory: It is the Inglewood (LA) Forum Jethro Tull played for 4 nights in 1975...around the same time as Zep's 75 tour. The Felt Forum is in NYC, and is smaller than the LA Forum.

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