But more importantly ... surely you've heard of Rosa Luxemburg's "Accumulation of Capital"?

"No." A crimson eye blinked curiously back at him. "Please tell me about it."


Nor have I, Falameezar, nor have I. Falameezar's the dragon in Alan Dean Foster's novel Spellsinger who got stuck in a space warp and became a devoted student of communism -- as Falameezar is fifty feet tall and can fly and breath fire, it's a good idea to stick around and listen even if you don't believe a word he says! And truth be known, I didn't know much about Luxemburg herself until I read through a "graphic biography" of her by Kate Evans, Red Rosa (ISBN 9781784780999). The story of the Polish girl who grew up to be the great champion of revolutionary (re:communist) orthodoxy and even questioning the originators of said doctrine in her writings and mass meeting is an intriguing one, foreshadowing the problems of globalization among other things. Everything for her seemed to come back to revolutionary tactics and never personal feelings -- make no mistake, she did have a life -- as a breakout not only among communists, but among women of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Hm. As I write this now, she reminds me somewhat of Squealer from George Orwell's Animal Farm ("Tactics, comrade, tactics!").


Jon-Tom proceeded to do so, with caution and at length.


And speaking of length, not only did Martha, Sarah, Jeffrey, and I finish our game of Monopoly (something I'm sure Luxemburg would say proves her thesis in Accumulation that capitalism will ultimately wipe itself out by there being nothing but one market/one person to deal with) last night, I won and I really didn't gloat about it. I didn't have the utilities, I didn't have the railroads, but I had the property group right after Go To Jail (on North Carolina Avenue alone I made a killing!) and all the cheapest properties on the row after passing Go. You'll have to look at a Monopoly game board to see what I mean, but the expression "out of the frying pan and into the fire" definitely applies here. Be patient, and your opponents will come to you, no matter how much money you collect from Free Parking -- that's our house rule which makes the game longer, but it's good for having fun with the family. I know it's Jeffrey's game, but I like to think that the kids know I love playing (so does Martha, who went out first) it and wanted to get it out for me.


They had no problems.


Eh, I can't quite say that. I'm still waiting to hear on two jobs I applied for -- one as an office assistant at Medical Arts, and another as a dietary aide at Trinity Homes -- and tomorrow morning the kids and I are meeting Martha at Medical Arts anyway so I'll try to find out then. Sunday afternoon Sarah stepped on a toothpick and it apparently bent and dug into the joint where her big toe and her foot meet. Anyway, that area's looking swelled and for the last few days Sarah's been limping on it. We're getting her checked out at a podiatrist (foot doctor) tomorrow morning and pray it's not serious, or at least that it can be treated easily. And the same with Jeffrey who ran into a stump doubling as a seat around the fire pit and scraped his knee this morning before I left for the office. The Fast Cash office where I am which, counting every day until June 30, will remain open another thirty-one days. Including today, we'll be open another twenty-three business days.


Falameezar could catch more fish in one snap than the entire party could in a day's trying, and the dragon was quite willing to share his catch. Also to cook it.


Not quite what the alien Boov in Rex Adam's novel The True Meaning of Smekday (ISBN 9780786849000) had done to the people of Earth when they arrived and relocated everybody -- at least in the United States, I don't remember reading what happened to the rest of the world -- to Arizona, but from what I've heard of the weather there it comes close! And if you recognize the name "Boov" I can tell you that this is the book the animated movie Home is based on. You've still got Tip, the eleven-year-old who's the main character, you've still got her pet cat Pig, you've still got Oh (who in the book is named J.Lo, possibly a reason Jennifer Lopez also known by that nickname was interested in doing guest vocals as well as in voicing Tip's mom in the movie), and you especially have Slushious, the flying car that beats out the DeLorean in Back to the Future for sheer oomph!


Thirty years -- the time between Back to the Future and Home in theatres -- is a long time.


And the thirty-five centuries that Warabé Aska illustrated and Alberto Manguel selected poetry for in their book Seasons (ISBN 038525265X) span doesn't seem like such a long time. For there are always seasons, and always times and words to reflect on them. From a love poem written in about the fifteenth century BC in ancient Egypt to St. John of the Cross in sixteenth century Spain to Margaret Atwood of twentieth century Canada, juxtaposed with the pictures that Aska drew that have hidden objects in them as well as one element of each of them on the front page. It's an experience, more than I usually expect out of a book of poetry. One could say it's short, sweet, and to the point, and I like that.


Especially when I'm not being told what to think but rather being taught how,


David