Diploma Mill Concerns Extend Beyond Fraud
Diploma Mill Concerns Extend Beyond Fraud - NYTimes.com
By DIANA JEAN SCHEMO
Published: June 29, 2008
SNL - Googly Eyes
Now armed with a bag of googly eyes and glue I descended on my friend Leah’s house one week after showing her this video. I glued googly eyes to a basil plant. Leah arrived home after a day of neighbor problems and the googly eyes frightened her, thinking they were a message from the neighbor… something like… “I am watching you.” She called the police. I can only imagine the dispatch recording.
911 can I help you? Your call is recorded.
Yes, someone, maybe my neighbor, put googly eyes on my basil.
Maam?
He is watching me.
The police responded due to some other incidents, the googly eyes being the tipping point.
What is the Purpose of Worry?
“Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?” What else can be done with anxiety, fear and worry besides asking it to go away?
What Do Man Changes Look Like?
I received an email from a young woman, a friend, who had this to say about what they looked like (but I did not ask her to tell me - her words gave me the idea to ask)
“When you say ‘man changes,’ I immediately envision your walls turning into aluminum, a fresh scent of diesel hovering in the air, along with surround sound, a keg-er-ator, and countless stacks of those cheap cigar tubes turning up in your laundry.”
Jeffrey Seglin and The “Right Thing”
Jeffrey L. Seglin
The time could come when I identify the forming of some outrage… Looking at this picture I most certainly have never been on ANY kind of date with this “man” of ethics…
Thanks Shirls!!
Shirley started by filling her nice car with dirt, roots, pots, plants, flowers, seeds, tools, food and a hummingbird feeder. Her arrival was quite a site. Determined to get me back into the swing of spring she directed our four hour effort and then it was up to me.She made a second trip with more colorful things. Then other friends donated living treasures. I have always been a collector of rocks but I like doing things with them. Otherwise they get a little restless. I love the numbers idea!
A lot of rocks goes a little ways!
The Equivalent
The equivalent level of pain in an unremitting illness or injury would be enough to kill the organism. The organs in each system would slowly give in, allowing the person to slip bit by bit into hazy relief. Crueler than any cancer, disfiguring wounds or organ disintegration, this homeless malice reveals no chance of recovery, regaining, coming back, looking forward.
We are different, from the rest and also from each other. I belong to the group of mothers with missing cells now deadened under pounds of dirt or a furnace fire. Their cells still swarm in us, pieces of unrequited, aimless love whose talons fall under flightless wings. Forever denied our place in the food chain, the predator’s prey actually becomes something after the struggle to live is relinquished.
What could the purpose of the lifelong cell exchange with our babies be? Our tissue, organs, blood and fluid continue as their sanctuary, remaining until old age and death. My body’s search is a craving, in its hollow chambers the cramps close in on themselves in spirals, finding no floor to rest. Hers knows no search, her features are erased and the cells I carry for her require the equivalent.
May 16th 2008
not knowing where you are
we may never know
it is said to be a sleeping or non-existence
nothing is promised here
or even if there is
a somewhere
our human conditions are not likely welcome
fairy tales of peace, rest and
castles made of butterly wings
brushing their delicious elixers
under her sleeping nostrils,
try to maintain a heavy shadow
over darker tales
where there comes no rest
no breath and no peace
a mother must know
beyond all else
that her own flesh, once
severed
remains somehow
somewhere
Bean Angles
She says I have to OWN it.
Layers
When I think I have found all of her, there is more to be found.
I Got Mail! From My Diary
Dear Lucy,
I don’t feel neglected. Not at all. From my vantage point, there are so many different windows arranged in front of me…and I sit here all day watching those windows open and close—some with curtains, others with shades…some with no decorations at all.
Dear Diary
I have had to ponder long and hard as to why I even have you in my life.
Knowing What it Is
Now I know what it is to miss her.
Bullying in the Most Vile Form
Another obvious deficit is their lack of conscience
Looks Like Someone is Leaving a Trail... Thankfully
Updated on Saturday, March 29, 2008 at 12:40AM by
Lucy Wightman
Interstingly this “person” was obsessed with Torri and the constant, sustained need to exert such energy into causing pain is beyond words.


