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		<title>Waiting for the Oracle</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 13 May 2012 22:30:27 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jwright</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Somewhere between Ocho Rios and Port Antonio… (a creative peace of Jamaica.) By J. Wright on May 5, 2010 The afternoon is perfect. Air is fresh, clouds gone. The calm sea mirrors the blue sky. A narrow cobble stone pathway leads me beneath lush greenery. Birds are singing overhead – a thousand melodies, praising their [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Somewhere between Ocho Rios and Port Antonio… (a creative peace of Jamaica.)</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">By J. Wright on May 5, 2010</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>The afternoon is perfect</em></strong>. Air is fresh, clouds gone. The calm sea mirrors the blue sky. A narrow cobble stone pathway leads me beneath lush greenery. Birds are singing overhead – a thousand melodies, praising their Creator for the freedom granted them at no charge. On my left, seven-hundred feet below, a semi-circular white sand beach shaded by rugged vegetation &#8211; a cozy nest where six red roof cottages hide. There’s no one home. My whispering voice is the only sound here. Nature is at rest after a stormy morning. The rain is gone and bright sun from endless indigo sky lights the mountains and brightens a colourfully quilted garden on my right. Flowers are spread across the hillside, meandering along a stream that transforms into a frisky waterfall into the valley to greet the calm sea. Soft wind ruffles thick carpet of orchids, dalais and mauve forget-me-nots. I smile and reflect<em>… (De place pretty, but mi left de damn kamera inna di kar again. Same ting happen a Bluefields yes-today. It looks like the writin’ part of mi brain no want mi fi tek any pictures.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>Indeed</em></strong> these lush majestic mountains elegantly rising from vast turquoise waters, heaping high into the sky were not always at peace. In 1658 during Spain’s second attempt to retake the island from Britain, the bewildered sea, red with blood of warring men lashed and soaked the land as cannons boomed from ships. Musket balls pierced flesh and ripped limbs one from another. Bodies torn to pieces like old rags. Arms and legs washed ashore to their everlasting rest at the base of these mountains, where their tormented souls lingered in doubt, under dark clouds hanging over paradise. Their souls found no rest in the grey monument of steel and brick erected to glorify and soothe their restless spirits. So on the second century’s anniversary of that blood gushing onslaught, the Island’s government hammered a stake through the heart of a venerated conflict, and created a peace park upon parched bones of savage combatants. <em>(So much ugly gravestones. Caan imagine the amount a duppies ‘round here when night com. Night not katching me ‘round here.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>The park</em></strong> is a noble victory that cleansed foul memories from picturesque landscape and set free tortured spirits of long ago dead warriors into gentle trade-winds to find serenity. Harmonious blends of lush and flowering beauty in full bloom replaces shrines of grey, cold brick of testament to the dead. A bright yellow eternal flame shoots at the sky &#8211; a peaceful flaming icon reaching out to the firmament. Farther along on my right is a coconut orchard, their stout trunks painted white for decoration. Their greenery curves around the land and then slopes gently to forever kiss the calm water &#8211; a forever seamless kiss melting land and sea into a union that cancels goodbye. <em>(You mean the lan a kiss the sea since creation? Mi no know how you si all a dat just by lookin’ at a simple landscape. Mi a com ‘round here fi years and neva hear anything like wah you a diskribe. Mi tell u say a mad weed Jah Mokie give you last night and u was not to smoke it. Did you smoke it? Aright den, how much Red Stripe u drink since mornin’?)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>The trees, plants</em></strong> and flowers were born on the same day – their height is the same. Equality is quality’s grand chest-thumping achievement. Branches are hugging one another, uniting to create a dense fuzzy canopé. A shelter for poets and writers to protect their mind’s faint but insightful candles from unhealthy diets of faddish fib – gale force, unleashed to wash away pensive discourse. <em>(Yu know, I have to stop watching CNN and start reading books again when I get back to Canada. Dat TV station a mek mi lazy… feedin’ mi di same junk-food news over and over…)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>A warm gentle breeze</em></strong> grows out of the silent waters; climbs the hillside. The wind tickles my face and invites me to mingle, but I prefer to watch the spirited wind-choreographed leaves and branches in delicate tango, in celebration of a truce between sea and land. However, like a symphony of our lives, nature’s rhythm and tempo are unpredictable. <em>(Would be nice fi have a girl wid me fi tango wid inna dis bush right now, fallin’ down dis hillside into the sea to kool off.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>In 1988 a vengeful hurricane</em></strong> stormed out of the raging waters &#8211; weapons drawn. Razor blade sharp wind-soldiers sliced deep and with fury; slashing and uprooting all that was good and honourable, replacing all around with mayhem. It took many years to mend, but all evidence is gone now – tranquility lives once more. A soft light glows from forgivers of life’s rage – the world’s annoyance trampled under their feet.  Once in a while though, the earth belches fire and ash upon itself to reform by sliding left and right, shifting up, down and sideways. Sometimes the land swells into mountains or steeped into valleys. Once in a while the land heaves its indigestion into the sea and boils it, but it’s the land that often forgives the sea’s stormy outbursts with ease and without grudge. <em>(You live a Kanada; tell mi ‘bout forgiveness when hurricane Gilbert wash weh your house and all a your fowl dem. And kill your one pinckney and everything else you own. I have no forgiveness fi dat damn evil hurricane Gilbert.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>Green painted benches</em></strong> are scattered on neatly trimmed grass under swaying palm trees, but I sit on grass &#8211; deep in placid splendor. Wait a minute; I have lost count of how many bottles of Red Stripe beer I had emptied since morning. The one in my hand is down to half. There’s only nine left in the car. I am running low… (<em>The red stripe beer inna di kar hot like tea. The la-ast one mi drink down a White River almost burn off piece a mi top lip. I have to buy a koola and some ice when mi reech Port Maria later dis evenin’.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>I gaze at the bluish-green mountain’s</em></strong> craggy skyline towering above infinite blue waters. Benevolent rivers flow from mountains to feed the sea, but here, the mountains sip from the edge of the sea to stay fresh. Same as once towering parents, one day, will drink from their caring children &#8211; fling quickly your bread upon waters for it to be there in a time of need. <em>(I never understand this ting fully, because when I drop piece a bread in a my tea, it soaked, gets saggy and sinks to the bottom of the cup.)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><strong><em>A bright-yellow male Jamaican Oriole</em></strong> above my head sings a loud reggae-style bragging chirp to its mate. She answers quickly with a soft agreeable tune and fly to him. To tend to his need. “<em>What a dutiful and obedient bird?</em>,” I thought. The two birds acted as if they knew more than the bees – for a short while. Then they fluffed up their bodies, shook their tail feathers and began to sing cheerfully together. I listen to the bird’s harmonious blend – for awhile. My cell phone blurts out, “<em>I don’t wanna wait in vain</em>…” A Bob Marley tune. My heart drums – fast. “Hello,” I answered. “It’s the Oracle.” Yvonne confirms, “the kar’s flying through Runaway Bay. Be there in twenty minutes.” I am waiting for her and have many questions and much to tell before zipping off to Port Antonio. Will be nightfall before I get there… <em>(If she no show up in twenty minutes, as she promised, mi ago leave. Almost one hour since mi reech here and she a com and caan reech yet. When she get here mi gwoin’ ask har, how com’s she live inna Jamaica and don’t know dat when the Jamaican male Oriole call, the female drop everything and fly to him.)</em></p>
<ol style="text-align: justify;">
<li>Comment.  February 2, 2011 at 2:43 pm. Your article was so vividly written, it was as if I were there. God Bless your mind and your hands for writing to inspire…J</li>
</ol>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Jeffery Wright is a graduate of Humber School for Writers. He lives in Toronto, Canada.</p>
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		<title>Fixing Chasm with Education</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/thejoggingpen/~3/32e_o2Nlhxg/fixing-chasm-with-education</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jan 2012 23:29:35 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jwright</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[Fixing chasm with education http://test.guardian.co.tt/index.php?q=commentary/letters/2010/09/05/fixing-chasm-education Published: 5 Sep 2010 A little encouragement to back to school students: “His way paved, boots too smooth, no friction in his steps; he slipped, stumbled, fell did not get there.” Chasm: That gaping hole and gulf between, and reason to strive; that great motivator to close up divisions, and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><h1 class="title">Fixing chasm with education</h1>
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<div class="tabs"><a href="http://test.guardian.co.tt/index.php?q=commentary/letters/2010/09/05/fixing-chasm-education">http://test.guardian.co.tt/index.php?q=commentary/letters/2010/09/05/fixing-chasm-education</a></div>
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<div class="node-date">Published: <span class="date-display-single">5 Sep 2010</span></div>
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<p>A little encouragement to back to school students: “His way paved, boots too smooth, no friction in his steps; he slipped, stumbled, fell did not get there.” Chasm: That gaping hole and gulf between, and reason to strive; that great motivator to close up divisions, and erase fault lines between where we are, and want to be; between reality and dream. Without chasm; friction to agitate and energise our fortitude—battery of energy force that lights up solution to right and wrong, our worth would fade away. But chasm is elastic; stretching from narrow to wide, up and down everywhere. Narrow chasm yields quicker solution than wide ones like using a boat to cross a river. </p>
<p>Having to get there without a boat, and being unable to swim is a wide chasm; so you learn, then swim to the other side and celebrate a chasm trampled. Same as going back to school this September and sail through those final credits build a graduation bridge to a better future. Am I correct; Steve, John, Sonia, Omar, Peter, Mike, and Tim? Invisible chasm is dangerous; unseen force wall of fear—many use religion to march around to breakdown. But religion creates deadly chasm of disunity in which many perish. Lawyers are trained to dig wide chasm between people  same as religion, which causes divisions and riffs. Indeed, without chasm we are weak. </p>
<p>Solving personal and communal chasm strengthens. Fixing and adjusting defines intellectual and social development. Our mind expands one defeated chasm at a time, and once stretched never return to its original size. The riches of our intellectual reservoirs are as the difficulty of chasm fixed. Ship conquered the sea’s chasm, allowing travel among continents within days. But continuing fight, using airplane, reduced the same journey to hours.<br />The Panama Canal, squeezes the Pacific and Atlantic oceans together is a giant step, but closing the gap between moon and earth is giant leap. Either way, Mount Everest size chasm was beaten flat. </p>
<p>Many lives have been lost defeating chasm, but knowledge increases just the same. In some country, chasm is a burden; long mountain range of grim skyline of despair visible everywhere under dark cloud of famine, economic disparities, diseases and ethnic cleansing, naming only few. You hear it on the radio, see it on television; chasm left alone, festers and grows into malignant champion fists raised in the air; delivering blows suffering, sickness and deaths.<br />Indeed the surest way to defeat chasm individually and community is education; that basic right and tool; not just to pass exams, but energy to fight stubborn ideas that stymied growth especially in the Caribbean Region. </p>
<p>Guns must be replaced with books and pens. But a good education for the right reason is a mysterious chasm to solve, because it is not just to secure a job and live comfortable, but to help build society, unselfishly. Here is one reason still true in this digital and graphical age: </p>
<p>EDUCATION: “To afford all members of the human race the means of providing for their needs, of securing their welfare, of recognising and fulfilling their duties; to assure for everyone opportunities of perfecting their skills and rendering themselves capable of the social duties to which they have a right to be called; to develop to the utmost the talents with which nature has endowed them and, in so doing, to establish among all citizens a true equality and thus make real the political equality realised by law this should be the primary aim of a national system of education, and from this point of view its establishment is for the public authority an obligation of justice.” </p>
<p>So use education to embrace and defeat your chasm and transform into your greater self. Peace! And back to school September, 2010 </p>
<p><strong>Jeffery Wright<br /></strong></p>
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		<title>Omar Explains Music!</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/thejoggingpen/~3/Aqu_63Lw330/what-is-music</link>
		<comments>http://www.thejoggingpen.com/what-is-music#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 10 Sep 2010 20:29:15 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jwright</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Academia]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.thejoggingpen.com/?p=2146</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[What is music? As told by Omar ‘What is music’? This is a question that sneaks up around almost every music class I’ve been in. Why, music is truly a tasty concoction of mind and sound. The mind is actually the main ingredient to music, and when used in the correct method, it will yield [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">What is music? As told by Omar ‘What is music’? This is a question that sneaks up around almost every music class I’ve been in. Why, music is truly a tasty concoction of mind and sound. The mind is actually the main ingredient to music, and when used in the correct method, it will yield small, timid, yet complex symbols that are known today to modern humans as “notes”. <span id="more-2146"></span>Ever the ‘language of music’, these “notes” come in different structures: strong, weak, friendly, mean, happy, depressed, silent, and loud. Each, however, talks in a voice of expression and colour.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">I know it sounds quite odd, but the only way notes may flourish is to go through a process called “composing”. Now, “composing” is to exploit the voice of notes, or, as I mentioned before, the ‘sounds’. The way to learn and talk the voice of notes is to play “instruments”. Instruments are the way to speak “music” and, if spoken right, music is created. Like I said, music is a concoction of mind and sound. It is also an art, using harmonious combinations of the notes. It is an art, in which, allows the person to become less stressed and absorbed into the beauty of the music. It allows people to become more understanding, more moral and truthful. It relaxes the listener.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">There are many different types of music: classical, jazz, reggae, rap, rock, country, techno, r &amp; b, etc. Types of music use different moods of notes and junction and compound them into the music. For example, classical music is in high mood. The language of music is spoken in good taste. Many spry personalities are melded into this genre’s concoction of music. Philosophers like Bob Marley, Peter Tosh and others, used reggae as digging tool to bend social and political rivers flowing only through green hills and meadows, to economically parched ghettos yielding a chance for everyone to swim across to their rights.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But take another mood of music, like, say, rock. Rock sounds as if notes have been taken to a slaughterhouse and beaten senseless. Lots of different moods and attitudes are into this sort of music. To wrap this up, music is an art. A different kind of art. It’s an art in which is not drawn or painted onto paper. It’s the art of the sound that is of the essence. It is art around us. Think, art that can be heard and not seen. Created by mind, sound, note, composing, instruments, and of course, feelings and thoughts. Music itself is a creation. At least, that’s what I think.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Omar Wright</p>
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		<title>A tribute to chasm…for Omar (Critical Thinking)</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/thejoggingpen/~3/7T-eQ_21afY/a-tribute-to-chasm-3</link>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 15 Aug 2010 10:06:22 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jwright</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[“His way paved, boots too smooth, no friction in his steps; he slipped, stumbled, fell – did not get there” - The Jogging Pen Chasm: That gaping hole and gulf between, and reason to strive; that great motivator to close up divisions, and erase fault lines between where we are, and wants to be; between real and dream. Without chasm; friction to [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #3366ff;"><em>“His way paved, boots too smooth, no friction in his steps; he slipped, stumbled, fell – did not get there”</em> <strong>- </strong><em><strong>The Jogging Pen</strong></em></span><strong> </strong></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Chasm: That gaping hole and gulf between, and reason to strive; that great motivator to close up divisions, and erase fault lines between where we are, and wants to be; between real and dream. <span id="more-1860"></span>Without chasm; friction to agitate and energize our inside battery – energy force that lights up solution to right and wrong, left and right, good and evil, you and me, his and hers, wives and husbands…naming only a few, our worth would fade away.  </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">But chasm is elastic; stretching from narrow to wide, up and down – everywhere. Narrow chasm yields quicker solution than wide ones – like using a boat to cross a river. Having to without a boat, and cannot swim is a wide chasm; so you learn, then swim to the other side and celebrate – a chasm trampled. Same as going back to school and sail through those final credits – build a graduation bridge to your future. Am I correct; Steve, John, Omar, Peter, Mike, and Tim…?</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Chasm is shapeless, undefined and each unique, with no standard solution. Invisible chasm is dangerous; unseen force – wall of fear many uses religion to dissolve.  But religion creates deadly chasm of disunity in which many perish. Lawyers – a unique bunch, trained to dig chasm – same as religion, which flourishes inside divisions and riffs.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> But without chasm we are weak; solving personal and communal chasm builds muscle – strengthens. Fixing and adjusting defines intellectual and social development; the mind expands one defeated chasm at a time, and once stretched never returns to its original size. The riches of our intellectual reservoirs are as the difficulty of chasm solved.   </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Ship conquered the sea’s chasm, allowing travel between continents within days. But continuing fight against chasm, using airplane, reduced the same journey to hours. When a plane crashes, new chasm is created; defeating chasm never ceases. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Chasm should be fixed peacefully, but some solutions are responsible for many good people’s deaths: Abraham Lincoln, Dr. Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi, for example; lives erased because they laid planks over chasm – bridging gaps between really confused people. Using war to bridge chasm is wholesale destruction. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The Panama Canal, squeezing the Pacific and Atlantic oceans together is a giant leap. Closing the gap between moon and earth is another. But Von Braun’s early Rocketeering at the RaketenFlugplatz (Port of Rocket)  (1931), and later his Peenemunde project – raining down (V1 and V2) guided-bombs; The Third Reich’s secret weapon to shock-win World War II, was the first big step off planet earth towards outer-space. And Sputnik’s circling and beeping the globe (1957), was the political muscle, scientific and engineering hustle that landed Apollo 11 on the moon (1969). Either way, Mount Everest size chasm was beaten flat.  Many lives have been lost defeating chasm, but knowledge increases just the same.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">In some community, chasm is a burden; long mountain range of grim skyline of despair – visible everywhere under dark cloud of famine, diseases and ethnic cleansing…naming only few. You hear it on the radio, see it on television; chasm left alone, festers and grow into malignant champion – fists raised in the air; delivering blows – suffering, sickness and death.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">The surest way to defeat chasm – individually and community is  education; that basic right and tool, not to passed exams, but air -puffs of energy to pull stubborn people and ideas together; prying guns from boys in the streets, leaving books instead. But getting a good education for the right reason is also a chasm. Here is one reason still true in this digital-graphical age: </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> <strong>EDUCATION</strong><em>:“To afford all members of the human race the means of providing for their needs, of securing their welfare, of recognizing and fulfilling their duties; to assure for everyone opportunities of perfecting their skills and rendering themselves capable of the social duties to which they have a right to be called; to develop to the utmost the talents with which nature has endowed them and, in so doing, to establish among all citizens a true equality and thus make real the political equality realized by law – this should be the primary aim of a national system of education, and from this point of view its establishment is for the public authority an obligation of justice”</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"><em>Marie – Jean Antoine Nicholas (1791)</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> Solving chasm is great reason for getting an education. Those relaxing under trees, hats covering  their faces, listening to singing birds – playing video games, ignoring all; will not hear nature’s educated creatures scurrying to safety from oncoming hurricane – will be left without shelter in life’s storm. Embrace chasm to transform into your greater self. </p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> From our dialogue in Cuba: <em>Calculus has real life use; in your case, a sharpening tool for your ideas. Philosophers need mathematics (logic) to induced/deduced arguments. Go sharpen up yourself!</em></p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> Peace! And back to school…September, 2010</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;"> Wright © Copyright Teaching Aid.</p>
<p style="text-align: justify;">Written By: j<a href="mailto:jeffery.wright@live.ca">effery.wright@live.ca</a></p>
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		<title>Wake me when…(Critical Thinking)</title>
		<link>http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/thejoggingpen/~3/GZsLN_pDD_U/tell-me-when</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 23 Apr 2010 00:43:47 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>jwright</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Courses]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Short Jogs]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Views and Observations]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[                      Written By: Jeffery.wright@live.ca Wake me when cloud cease their invites; To mothers over princes; tearing them from spring&#8217;s eternal  sleep Dreams, stubborn; cannot wake up Young minds in chains; no wings to fly Wake me when cloud no longer drifts; To youths walking out of their bodies, to seek evening’s twilight; morning&#8217;s heat too [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p></p><p><a href="http://www.thejoggingpen.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/dark-cloud.jpg"><img class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-1628" title="Cloud" src="http://www.thejoggingpen.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/dark-cloud-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="490" height="129" /></a></p>
<p>                      Written By: <a href="mailto:Jeffery.wright@live.ca">Jeffery.wright@live.ca</a></p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Wake me when cloud cease their invites;</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">To mothers over princes; tearing them from spring&#8217;s eternal  sleep</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Dreams, stubborn; cannot wake up</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Young minds in chains; no wings to fly</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Wake me when cloud no longer drifts;</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">To youths walking out of their bodies, to seek evening’s twilight;</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">morning&#8217;s heat too hot</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Strong arms pumping fuel into veins; blood’s too weak</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Youths in their slumber; not walking on cloud</p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Wake me when cloud&#8217;s gone; sky&#8217;s blue &#8211; comes the sun</p>
<p style="text-align: right;"> </p>
<p style="text-align: right;">Wright © Copyright Teaching Aid</p>
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