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Vol. 40, March 21st, 2023
Bringing Good Things
General Electric & Transcendentals
Who remembers the McLaughlin Group TV show in the 80’s? I was just a wee lad watching with my dad. It was funny to see the TV folks get all worked up for mysterious reasons (I didn’t understand things like Reagan and other fancy words). I found a yellow tie in dad’s collection, put it on, snagged his glasses, and pretended I was a pundit. “Blah blah blah!”
General Electric ran constant ads on the program. I didn’t believe them, but I remember them - words on the grainy screen, the phrase We Bring Good Things to Life. Now that’s deep, man.
A theme of this paper is to bring some Good Things to Life - something positive in a world of grime. I guess we all can do that, right? Bit by bit, person by person. The “empty calorie” offerings of cable news, cheap fiction, and gossip are endless.
What will we “feed our heads” with to remember the Transcendentals - Truth, Beauty, and Goodness? What about those Good Things in Life? It seems worth considering.
Reader Spotlight
Alan S. has fished all over the world. “Montana was incredible” he says. He lives in Roanoke, VA.
Happy Birthday, Rock ‘n Roll Concerts
20,000 fans try to pack into the 12,000 seat Cleveland Arena at the “Moondog Coronation Ball” at. Police stop it. (1952.)
Down the Rabbit Hole
Looking for something to research? Have you heard of “Fib Poetry?” This art form is based on the famous Fibonacci sequence: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 (etc.) In the poem’s case, it’s a count of syllables. The math behind it is fascinating. Have fun chasing down the ideas!
Song of the Week
Piano Concerto in A minor. Edvard Grieg was only 24 when he wrote this beauty in 1868. It’s a perfect compliment to the natural beauty of early spring. Try a video on YouTube!
Happy Spring!
The sun rises due east on Equinox. The Forsythia rejoices. Hallelujah, it’s Spring.
Alt text: A close up of a four-petaled yellow flower is backlit by the rising sun. More yellow flowers grace the background of the photo.
Write to Us!
Welcome to The Nighthawk, a new old-fashioned way to connect, published weekly. You’re invited to write back, or just enjoy reading. Let’s have some fun! It’s a social paper! Send stories, etc to: PO Box 783, Rustburg, VA 24588
Letters from Josh
(A weekly update from Josh Urban’s adventures on the farm and in the city. #126)
Howdy, folks! We return to our tale of Dr. Electro, a fantastical adventure set in 1931.
He’s arrived, along with a strange assortment of allies, at Lady Wilkes’ house to solve the heist of her prized citrine gem. As they say hello in the yard, there’s a crash, bad guys running across the roof, and a blinding blue flash. Miss Stella pipes up. “Is anyone good with electricity?”
This is...
The Return of Dr. Electro - #20:
Science, Religion, & Bravery
The electric blue flash ripped the fabric of the air. The sharp scent of ozone hovered in the yard. It bit Electro’s nose, waking slumbering memories of laboratories, experiments, and stormy nights - the Better Days before the Great Disillusionment. How long had he drifted? Would he ever take charge? Miss Stella’s voice cut into his reverie. She repeated herself.
“Is there anyone here who’s good with electricity?” Her voice had the faintest tremor.
“I....I am..I AM!” Electro strode forward. Rutherford halloed and clapped. Lady Wilkes just pointed, gazing along her iron-sight finger with a blazing eye. Everyone turned to look.
The block seemed strangely quiet, save for one neighbor’s bustle. “Ethyl, are you out of power, too?” A screen door slammed, and then was silent. A faraway clock chimed the quarter.
Smoke curled in a thin black stream from the house next door. Electro took a breath. “Well...there’s your problem.”
Charlotte rolled her green eyes. Lady Wilkes frowned. “Are you gonna fix it, buddy? I bet it’s got something to do with my missing gem. That house should have been empty.”
“Sure...I guess. The name’s Electro, ma’am. I could use a hand. This smells difficult.”
“I got you, brother!” Preacher grinned. “Science and religion, we’ll work together.” He pulled a pair of pliers, a crowbar, and a bible from his rucksack. “Hallelujah - let’s roll.”
“Wait. Boys.” Charlotte rolled her eyes again. “You might need some..persuasive ability.” She patted her revolver, nodded to her sidekicks, and strode across the yard to join them.
Their footsteps sounded like an army crunching across the gravel. Someone opened the ancient wrought iron gate between the yards with a groan of rusty hinges. A decrepit porch leered at them, a vision from childhood and scary neighbors. It was ignored in a clattering of shoes and cowgirl boots. The bolted front door halted the march. “Let me see that a second. I have a way with locks.” Preacher leaned in, rattled, fiddled, persuaded, smiled, and held the door open for the ladies. Charlotte drew her gun. Suddenly, a sinister voice whispered down the stairs. “Dr. Electro...is it really you?”
To be continued next week...