Black Holes

The supermassive black holes are all that remains of galaxies once all protons decay, but even these giants are not immortal. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I watch a lot of science TV. I enjoy the conjectures of scientists who explore the most advanced thoughts about the creation of life and where a Black Hole comes from. Of course they don't know what a Black Hole is but they know it is huge, densely magnetic and powerful. Now they assert that there is a massive black hole in the center of every galaxy which provides the power for the planets to rotate. In the process, the black hole is consuming whatever comes close and sucks it into oblivion. 
It's amazing how the scientific mind can accept this concept and use these words as if they were real when there is nothing to substantiate them but a theory. They produce pictures of galaxies millions of light years away and propose that planets could have life. No data supports the theory but a picture of a speck of light on a film, but the scientists assure us that the odds are we are not alone in the universe. It's interesting to listen to the narration of the story. The pictures are arresting until I remember that the pictures are mostly artists renderings because they don't have cameras capable of making such find detail.
Don't assume that science is all lies and shadows, but when the dialogue is full of "might have" or "could have" I begin to question what did or didn't happen that we are passing off as real and genuine. Don't misunderstand. I still watch "How the Universe Works," but lately I've noticed sudden bursts of unacceptable references in the narration. The excited physicist says "Oh God, the power of it." When he gets to the end of his explanation there is God still doing his thing. All the theories and explanations cannot produce one real live thing or even explain how it was done. Science can chart the steps and analyze the chemicals, but it can

Simulated gravitational lensing (black hole going past a background galaxy). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

not make it breathe or love or reproduce. Funny how God comes back into our equations. 

The God Particle

I have been searching for topics to write about. It seems I had forgotten the nursery rhyme by Robert Louis Stephenson dedicated to this idea.
"The world is so full of a number of things
I'm sure we should all be as happy as kings." 
With such a plethora of ideas I should never want for a topic to explore and address. I fear the dearth of ideas is caused by my own lack of interest and not the lack of subjects. I have been considering the TV show on the Science Channel called "How the Universe Works." I have no background in physics or science except casual reading, so I really don't feel prepared to bring that kind of topic to intelligent readers.

Today on "How the Universe Works" they talked about finding the Higgs field or the Higgs particle. For the rest of us this has become known as the God Particle. It seems to mean that the Higgs particle is the property of matter that makes it possible to take energy that has no weight, or mass and convert it into matter with weight and mass. This is the how God created the world. The scientists hastened to declare this as a scientific fact without regard to God. This is my interpretation of the matter of matter and how matter came to be. God did it. He spoke it without regard to the supercollider. God said and it was. It's funny how easy it is when you just believe.  

New Reason to Write

Periodically I get a new grip on the rope and try again. I'm trying to become more disciplined about writing again. Not just the blogs, but opinion and commentary and maybe even a story. I've done it before. Right now I'm also researching family history, and I'm really interested in narrating the story of my family and how they addressed the world they were dealing with.

Some of them served in the Revolutionary Army and some in the Civil War. Those are two subjects of lasting interest and I am excited about what I'll find in their stories.

Maybe I'll find out more about them than I want to know. I have one ancestor that was something of a scoundrel. I would guess that most of us have a few of the less noble and high-minded individuals in their history. There is an old saying " You should be cautious about exploring your family tree because you might find someone hanging on a limb." One of my ancestors was married to about four women without any evidence of a legal divorce. I remember family members referring to him with a definite attitude of derision.

Oh well that might make a very interesting story.

So I'm Lonely--What Did I Expect?

I have neglected my blogs. Of course I don't have a large audience of readers, so there is very little incentive to write, but still it is my obligation. The reason I have not been faithful to the task rests in the disruptive nature of my current life. Two years ago I moved to the Rio Grande Valley because one of my daughters asked me to. I thought the idea had merit. I lived for a year in a retirement community that provided meals and transportation to Walmart and the grocery store and some medical trips, doctors, dentists, physical therapists, etc., but I found the boredom extreme. I often didn't like the menus, and I was less than impressed with the activities the administrators were so proud of.

I decided the solution to my problem lay in moving out of the home. I did. I moved to an apartment complex that provides no amenities. We do have access to a pool. Of course I get daily mail delivery and the office is handy for questions and maintenance. Accommodations are more isolated. I have no acquaintances but the ones I see at Church on Sunday and Thursday night Bible study.

Sometimes I do get lonely. My solution to that problem rests on the computer. I have renewed my interest in genealogy. I call it "visiting with dead relatives,." and believe it or not, it is very satisfying. Of course I do miss the people I left in East Texas--my children and friends, the places I used to go. Now I no longer drive. My daughter who has a talent for stating the obvious assures me I shouldn't be driving. I miss being able to go the store for paper plates or socks or a burger on a whim.

Renewing my commitment to this blog and improving it with fresh topics and better composition is my response to boredom and loneliness. I'd really like to get new readers and responses. I welcome suggestions to fill the empty hours and human contact to animate them with conversation.

O. K. Guys the balls in your court. Let me know you're out there. I'm lonely! 

Suicide Is Not a Noble Act

Today I learned of the death of a young man who is a member of my church; he was a teenager actually, and I didn't personally know him, but never the less, I was emotionally torn by the news. It was mentioned that he recently broke up with his girl friend.

I did a little research on the subject and found out things I'm not sure I wanted to know. Suicide is the third leading cause of death in teenagers and young adults. The ages they counted varied a little. Some used 13 to 19 and others used 10 to 24. In both cases the first leading cause of death in these years was accidents. The second was homicide. The third most common cause of death in youths from 12 to 19 was suicide. These numbers come from the National Center for Disease Control.

One thing that disturbed me was the idea that suicide is somehow noble and a good choice when life is difficult. Family members would not have such a response. Life cut short before it was embraced is neither noble nor exciting. It is surely tragic and bitter to family who had other futures in mind.

One of the factors mentioned as causes was break up of relationships, bullying, difficulties in school and general depression. When I worked, I was often called on to counsel people who expressed suicidal thoughts or behaviors. My response was to seek their reasons and defuse the immediate source of distress. It usually worked when they began to see the finality of the act, it became clear that suicide didn't help anything.

For these youths it is obvious that they need more than a little talk.
They need the confidence that what ever is bad today won't be so bad tomorrow. They also need to understand that a noble death is not one that is inflicted by one's own hand.

For the family of the young man in my church I can only pray and offer support. I don't see a silver lining in this cloud.

Boring or Bored

Ronald E. Powaski has written about the Trappist monk, peace activist, and writer, Thomas Merton. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I find my life to be verging of hopeless and useless. Nobody depends on me. I have no job and no responsibilities. Sounds like a prescription for boredom. On the other hand I have many opport unities to entertain myself and generate enthusiasm for life. I have a relatively large library, two computers, a TV, and a DVD player. 


I have explored   the idea of becoming a 'solitary';maybe you think of the older word-hermit. Living alone with limited contact to others does make one subject to loneliness and boredom. At least that's the prevailing perception of older people:sick, isolated, lonely. That sorta fits me. 

Becoming a 'solitary' is not just permission to be boring. It's taking on a new role. It's a chance to explore more depth in me. I can compare my life and my thoughts to others in private. I enjoy studying and exploring other cultures and lifestyles through books, TV, and research. Traveling is tiring and expensive, but books and computer searches are revealing and cheap. And it's more fun to grow old this way. If I could be as productive as Thomas Merton was in the tradition of a solitary, I wouldn't worry so much about the boredom or loneliness. There were others who found the solitary life very rewarding. Maybe I will too.

Night Sounds

            I love the sounds of night. Whether I’m sleeping in the house or outside enjoying the settling of darkness on the world, I love the sounds that accompany the activity of darkness. Trains blow their whistles around the clock, but the mystery and sadness only comes with darkness. The rattle of the wheels plunging down the tracks is like a deep drum beat accompanying the song of the whistle.

            I love to hear the soft calls of the owls and doves cushioning the night. No chirping songs pierce the gloom, only cooing to signal a mate. Sometimes the birds rustle the leaves or cause a branch to sway. They do not disturb the promised rest and quiet.

            Dogs bark. When I was little I wondered what they were saying. Bragging about chasing away a possum or skunk, maybe, or asking if a friend wanted to take a run in the pasture. They alert to every sound, ready to defend their territory, protect their home.

            Some trick of physics causes sounds to change with darkness. They become more distinct over longer distances, maybe because there are fewer of them. Trucks on the highway shift gears and gain speed as they leave congested streets. Their engines grab the night and soar off to other towns to deliver their load.

            When I was little, the night was filled with giants and monsters, galloping steeds and gallant warriors. Somewhere in the madness there was also sleep and dreams and rest. Now I remember my childhood nights and dreams with nostalgia. I love to revisit them in memory. Then I was always safe from the threats I imagined. Not even a storm disturbed my sleep.