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Snooze flash! I just posted a partial rendition of Adman and Even in the Gar Den ov Edum, the opening tale from the c.1971 The Book ov Lev It A Kiss, my son's classic Television Scripture in American lingo that was first written down to perform on world-wide television, for all the world's peoples to sea, listen to and be a part of all at once.
These are my son's Creative Phonics, his word formations in their original story form! This, from him to you freely given phonic masterpiece will give a hand to all our older kids with reading difficulty, as well as the younger ones just starting out to read! See and hear the first day of man's creation from Adman and Even in the Gar Den ov Edum. My son is a true poet, an inspired prophetic man, uniquely qualified to straighten out all the prob limbs of the world, besides the problems we are having in our schools, what with all the kids who can hardly read.
When Michael was four years old we lived in a cold water flat on 20 Linview Terrace, in Buffalo, New York. One day his older brother came home from school, walked into our 8X11 foot living room and saw my youngest on the floor in the corner doodling in a library book.
He shouted to me in the kitchen, "Ma, Michael is doodling in my library book and I am going to get in trouble." I walked into the living room from the kitchen, which was only 12 feet away. The whole apartment where I raised two sons with $20 a week alimony was only 384 sqare feet. A mansion.
Back then there weren't any ball point pens, or gel pens. You used a pencil, or ink from a fountain pen. Lucky for his older brother, Michael only had a pencil. We couldn't afford an ink pen.
My son looked up at me and said, "Mom, it's ok for me to doodle in the Abraham Lincoln book because some day I am going to be the president."
I thought that was a pretty good excuse coming from a four year old. I thought that was fast thinking on his part. Years later he complained to me that it was his first press conference, and no one listened.
Anyway, the next year he was registered for kindergarten. The first day for school one of our neighbors gave us a ride to P.S. # 21 School, which was 12 blocks away. As we rode down Hertel Avenue, Michael started reading off all the billboards: "Camels, Wonderbread, Mastman's Delicatessen."
We were amazed. Nobody knew it before that day, but he had taught himself how to read. He has a sense of words beyond the scope of everyone's imagination. That's what Marshall McLuhan told me on the telephone one day in 1970; That my son was way ahead of his time and some day he would sit with the greatest leaders in the world..... so it looks to me like his time might be finally coming. Except the FBI has other ideas.
I have to go take a nap because I am the oldest webmaster in cyberspace. As promised by my emeritus title, click here to get my recipe and commentary on roast chicken.
And here is one of my son Michael's poems that he wrote when he was on the ship 40 days and 40 nights back in 1969, a few days before God revealed His word unto his mind. He talks special, unlike anyone!
But first a sample of his spontaneous high level talking: "The mind is that place inside your head where the virgin senses unravel their trail. It's an ace place of high ocasion, the light shed of revelation, the mosaic store behind the mosler door where safely held the stories are stored." I recorded him spouting that in 1970. My son:
The earth turns over
Another dusk for sight.
The clouds gathering purple forces
Shift in the heaviest breath;
Wind mutes better than quartet flutes.
So the mists blow off
And the sun goes all alone, no clouds,
Clearest of gold
Until she touches water;
Then a spill sharp red.
The slow sun setting down
Is really us. The whole bloody
Shebang at 1100 M.P.H. (It took three
Times that thrust
To launch the ship that left the place).
Heading on the equator. 15 knots.
S.S.E. Not the reddish spot, way up
As it is in the cities,
But the sun set down by ocean site,
Sky patch of clearness
40 X 40 miles straight out. Tonight
No fleecy clouds for sight;
The old gold sun
Going by sea top. Dusk, and
The sky dark blue. Sharp red spill;
day's end, and the sun
From earth.
Bar Donna Bush-Corleone's son, our president Bush can't write or talk straight, yet George Bush's mother despises my son! She tried to ruin his life in America the same way Lady Bird Johnson black-balled Eartha Kitt from performing in USA, forcing our great songstress to 'relocate' in Europe so she could continue performing.
The wife of a president black listed an American citizen in America. Sad, wives of presidents can do that kind of stuff and get away with it. But Barbara Bush went even farther than Lady Bird did. She got her wimp husband to sign an Executive Order about my son - to keep him down. I believe the Bush's prejudice is one of the reasons his truly world class alphabet learning software has yet to be adopted by the government for Head Start and other pre-school programs.
Too bad our Bush president, Bar Donna Bush Corleone's son George can't write or even talk without his brows up and lying through his teeth.
Love to you from me, Mary Levinson, the oldest webmaster chef in cyberspace. You need to read the article from the The Saturday Evening Post starting on our home page. I need a nap. My son.
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