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Captured by our own Henry. Brother, sister, and cousin on the way to the park.
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» Welcome to The Noosphere
Funny word, noosphere. When you first see it, you want to
prounounce it new sphere. Natural enough, but incorrect.
It's noh-uh-spheer ... like the old Ark guy's basketball.
To learn more about this unusual word and why
we have built our site around it, click below.

Careful, though. Once you go Noosphere,
you may never go back . . .

» THE HISTORY OF WEIRD
You lookin' at me?

Creature Feature

I loved them, before I even knew what they were.

Horror movies.

From the first time my father, a fellow night owl, whispered in my ear like a secret conspirator, I was hooked. 'I think there' s a great scary movie on tonight....' There was something excruciatingly exciting and irresistibly foreboding about the proposition . Monsters, bloodsuckers, aliens, the dead returned...in a world with four TV channels, a great scary movie was about as dangerous and cutting edge as it got.

TV then was safe, sanitized, a sweetly-packaged and steady stream of pure vanilla. To get an education, you really needed a 'great scary movie'. Only there could you learn life's real secrets, that sometimes the good guy didn't win, bad things happen even to good people, and that there was more to the world than brightly-lit daylight was willing to reveal. Violence, sex, betrayal, murder, sin, cruelty, death, those just weren't topics for the dinner table in polite congenial suburbia, but if you stayed up late, they were lurking in the shadows.

Horror movies were the heroin of my childhood, and I was a two-bit junkie...

» CIRCA 2020
Circa 2020


Funny.

In your time the year-long (and more) periods between Circa 2020 posts will barely register.

In our time, or at least in mine, they seem endless.

Perspective remains ever so intriguing ...

Read More ...
» VULGARIS VOX VOCIS
Common Sports - Uncommon Games

Alone.

Largely in the dark, with only the flickering light from our gas driven fire warming the ceramic logs and 55 inches of high definition art providing a view into what is most often some far corner of the world.

Night after night I sit ignoring the phone, e-mail, text messages and two very persistent family dogs. I am left up, alone in my living room with Mary Carrillo, long after my wife has gone to bed.

If you think that sounds a bit destructive, you might be right. I have a problem. I’m an addict, a junkie, a freak.

My name is Bob and I am an Olympiholic....

» THE CHRONICLES OF HENRY
Got Sploosh?

Four Minutes, Part II

Miles Eight to Ten went through Georgetown. This is when the party really gets started. People lining both sides of the course three deep, screaming and cheering. Makeshift water stops everywhere. Little kids holding out their hands as you pass. I figured as SuperHenry I had to set an example and liberally dole out high-fives to the adoring throngs. People would call out “Go SuperHenry!” and I’d flex. It was also at this point that the crowd on the course started to thin out. There was no more dodging and weaving through the traffic jam of runners. There were often stretches where I had the whole road to myself, or only had to contend with one or two other runners in my immediate vicinity. By Mile Nine we were all really settled into our pace.

At Mile Ten the party was pretty much over. I was starting to feel a little nauseated. Nothing unexpected. This is something I deal with on all my long runs. I knew it would get worse before it got better, but I was prepared to run through it. At ten and a half miles I saw this bodacious redhead on the side of the road approach me yelling ‘Hey Superhenry!’ rather enthusiastically.



Read More ...
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