Victor Hugo

The Parable of les Miserables, that great song story, that voice, the movement of the soul, the dream made real, redemption, what a story, Solomon was reading it, but the wisdom within, how is applies to our times, how it pointed out so much that could be put right, with a little patience, rather than the reactionary world we have created. Donald Trump says this, the press jumps, it’s not that they didn’t hear the words before, its’ just that they feel forced to react, if he said you should go to the bathroom wearing a swimsuit, they’d print that too, it’s mullarkey, they print whatever someone deemed celebrity says, it’s that simple. Victor Hugo, a man blessed with faith in the Power of God’s Spirit, tried to pass on the wisdom, that is still so lacking today, and now the crisis is real, we are slow to react, so much for all those reactionaries, its’ time they allowed small children read real literature of a philosophic nature. Thank’s Victor. And even his central character, Valjean, who was cross with himself, for trying to lead his “charge”, cossete,

into the convent”, without allowing her a taste of life, cheating her, she will only hate me for that she thought.

Solomon sighed, how many had taken a formal vocation in older times to please their Parents and no one else, not even themselves, amen. The troubles down the road later, the river that is now a dribble, he saw the picture of the old seminary, it was a troop of men in the collar, now they are two spots on a green field, choosing rightly, needs time and wisdom as Victor Hugo would say, amen. Pride can be a killer as they say, it certainly drowns the Spirit.



The world is beautiful, people can be ugly, that’s all, the less of the Spirit the more difficult it becomes, the more harm the more cynical we become, the bigger the hole the easier it is to fill, the small pal the light the smile the gentleness, melting hearts and second glances the nurture, the expectations inside the Spirit rises, the neighb

urhood demons the hurt of others, the constant pressure holding out waiting, the disappointment the first slap the hurt, patience what was I doing so wrong, that TV and what is was showing me, it was just a case of imitation, the big fear the other voice the worry, the threat of violence and the tension on the heart, the struggle to be yourself and strong, the emotional hurt the feeling of being undeserving, the assault on the spirit the physical threat, the watchful eyes of God’s angels worrying, what have they allowed to go on, this Spirit is from the talent pool, it does not go unnoticed, and if they put a price on it or help for it, there is going to be no special enquiry, Solomon wondered what the blazes they thought they would get away with, it did not impress him one iota, beyond comprehension they better have excuses ready, dampening the Spirit at a time such as this, who were they getting instructions from, demons.

The child becomes a worried boy, the fiery spirit becomes wayward, stubborn, how did he end up like this, he is encouraged by angels who arrive in town, there is a call going out, you better mind the children all of them, there are sudden changes and great wonders, a form of panic sets in good choices are made regularly, the Spirit of God is pouring out, the words of Jesus fill the hearts an awareness, the changes are constant as the spirit continues to rise, Solomon sighed, he only had to write it a thousand times, amen.

Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog


Hey gang! I found a very appealing and fascinating set of postcards from 1907 , featuring newlyweds off on their first adventure together : – their honeymoon. These cards were published by the Julius Bien & Co. Lithographic firm, which was in business between 1850-1915 in New York City. Bien himself was originally an immigrant […]

via Love 1907 Style — The Müscleheaded Blog

Uncertain Times Today

Extremists are being rounded up, their schemes are falling apart, and while there are some who still encourage hate, they can never succeed, it’s as simple as that. Amo was listening to the news, a plane falls from the Sky, a hundred and fifty seven die, a mad man storms a holy place in New Zealand, Christchurch, 49 souls die, how pointed was that he sighed, demons, when will they give up. A good prayer was called for, the usual suspects hope for the worst of reactions, those on the side of good, pray for compassion and understanding, those of evil mind, want resentment and hatred to grow, it was a table tennis match, if such could describe things. Amo sighed, remain calm, it will all work out.

Why do things go wrong, why do good people die, why did I lose my Father when I was young, why why why, there are so many questions that many sought the answers too. The emotions are torn and twisted, why, the heart is sighing, how will I get over this. Amo smiled, it’s not too difficult, sometimes we don’t understand why we exist at all. Some on us in constant state of pain, while others just float across the sky, effortless. It’s about Spirit sighed Amo, there is light and dark, and the story of the talents, think about it.

What did Jesus spend his life doing, in a nutshell, raising the Holy Spirit, reminding us, that God is inside us, you just have to make room, as if you are expecting a visitor to call, it’s not too hard, until this world addicts you, amen. Why did he get rid of demons, why, he came to teach us about our potential, not to let our bad habits overcome us.

Jesus in the Desert









What, your going Italian, watch your ass dear, the men pinch the women there, they say its a compliment, I suppose if your older, it is, she shakes her head, you can’t be serious, well, when I was there thirty years ago, that was the way, it’s changed perhaps. She gives him a look, are men supposed to flatter women that way, a real pain in the ass, no lawyer would get a dollar out of their system, maybe today maybe today.  Well, she is getting angry, it’s so incorrect to talk like that, criticize the church in the old days and you lost your job, criticize the government in the old communist days, and you found yourself in the gulags, no wonder the world is in a mess.

Solomon sighed, it’s getting crazy all right, if there is money involved and publicity, they all want it, same as loud children, they want notice. She is at the interview for the shoot, she is prepared to pose, and no one is forced to look, unlike the children with the mobile porn library in their hands, they have less of a choice. Well, we are supposed to be interested in reproducing, seems we have been programmed to, otherwise, who knows.

She dis robes and flashes, had the double D enhancements, is always talking about it. hey, if they are for my husband or partner it’s my business she yells, well, why are you telling the world honey asks the young reporter, she gives him an up and down, boy if you don’t know the answer to that, do you think they’d look at us otherwise. Eighty per cent of the world agree with her, we are here to get the cash, if it wasn’t us it would be someone else.

Meanwhile, the tabloids want anything that gets the attention, and women I assume, are supposed to supply them, a simple comment, but did it hold any weight. The news is the same, another scandal, mean while, all their children are secretly looking up the stuff, hypocrisy, if they only knew, that all their habits were known, stop scratching your ass. and remember to wash your hands, and stop eating that, disgusting.

Everything she ever wanted…

The attention, free love, the extras, lots of friends, everything she wished for, but there is still a hole inside her, that nothing material can fill, why can’t it be normal. She envies her friends, they’re normal, the boring partners, the routines they have, he leaves the bowl down, never washes the dishes, is always giving Margot their child treats, he shouldn’t spoil them that much, everyone nods and smiles, inside her heart is longing, but she knows, you can’t bring children into the world without foundations. Her friends recommend the child in a box scenario, the artificial thing, you get a list of prospects, and do it yourself. It’s not what she wanted. She retreats inside, it has to be there, the original feelings, where did they go, how do you decide. Everything she wants, it’s already inside her.

The eyes are giveaways, there is an emptiness, she is replaying the lives of old glamour queens and actors, every time she see’s them on the screen, not me hopefully she says. when i get older, i will be surrounded by those who grow with me, those who really love, is it the price of fame, well it comes with risk. I’ll get through it. The next day she decides to slow down, three months later she is on a beach, away from the attention, and herself, the way she used to be, all she ever wanted.