Fergus, Weaver of Autistic Webs > Recent Status Updates

From bitter experience she knew that pictures thrown on the screen of her imagination could seem much more unnerving and terrible than the actual facts.
- We all know that - but how easily we forget!

John Ralston Saul is well-known in Canada as the husband of a former Governor General, Adrienne Clarkson. This erudite bestseller attempts to dispel a modern myth - the priority of pure reason in the modern world.

MY VILLAGE
Where are the little people I once knew?
Friendly, sharing, caring, loyal and true,
A cup of tea, a greeting and a smile,
All welcome to come in and chat awhile...
The villagers today don’t stop and greet -
More important things to do for rushing feet.

Here is the central symbolism of the novel:
‘A hart, followed by a hind, had appeared... beginning to ascend the (very steep) precipice. The hart would leap and go springing upward, always closely followed by the hind, who set her feet exactly where his had been, and leaped after him. So the two of them leaped and sprang with perfect grace and assurance up the face of the precipice and disappeared over the top.’

‘Shepherd... tell me why I nearly got into Pride’s clutches again....’
‘I think,’ said the Shepherd gently, ‘that lately the way seemed a little easier and the sun shone... When you wear the weed of impatience instead of the flower (of acceptance) you will always find your enemies get an advantage over you.’

Wonderfully heartwarming vignettes and poems - real Food for the Soul!

A wonderful Christian Fantasy Novel!

The distinctive thing about real facts... is their individuality. Not to put too fine a point on it, one could say that the real (big) picture consists of nothing but exceptions to the rule....

That’s life - that’s what all the people say,
You’re riding high in April -
Shot down in May!
- Poor Harry Bosch...

A wonderful simple family tale of the art of the Scottish bagpipe - through the eyes of a young 19th century Texan who marries into a Scots Highlander family with a love for piping!

Later, I became a connoisseur of plum blossom - delicate, more delicate than the celebrated cherry, and with a certain sadness, appearing as it does in February when the snow is still on the ground. I had learned the Japanese way of seeing.

A brash, ‘hermetic’ new translation:
SAINT
At this window-eye’s sagging glass
That brushes a harp by the Angel
Formed with its flight of evening
For a delicate phalange...
In its fletchings, musician, harvest
Of silence, O black apples of silence

For every noble movement or advancement in the human endeavor across time, there were always betrayers who set everything a step back.

A grouping of hard-edged cases that are expertly interlaced, centred on a single compelling cold case investigation.

Ms Downer arrives at Basho’s famed gate to the Deep North, on foot:
‘So that was all that was left - no ruins, not even a rock, just a dent in the hillside. Only 300 years before, when Basho came, the border had been full of life.... things disappear quickly in Japan.’
This is a delightfully entertaining read!

(Vince Lombardi) twisted an ankle... and got elbowed in the mouth so hard in the St. Mary’s game that his lower teeth were knocked loose.... Vinnie was hurting body and soul. One Saturday night, stuck alone in his (dorm room) he spotted a classmate... ‘Would you get me a priest?... I need to go to confession but can’t move!’
- The REAL Lombardi!

While Jerzy’s spirit survived ‘communist re-education’ (in seminary) his health was seriously damaged. Major surgery and almost a year in hospital could not repair two years of brutal treatment.... One of the seminary staff... said, ‘You were heroic. Now, you must take a rest.’ But Jerzy did not want rest... he (had) such enthusiasm that he completed the two years of missed studies in half that time.
- Wow.

Disaffected... by family trauma, Marie tried to lose herself in fun....
Then she encountered Vince Lombardi, who seemed to offer everything that her life lacked: he was emotional, he had a huge family, he was full of life, a varsity athlete, religious and dependable, a relief. (She announced to her father, ‘I’m going to marry that man.’)

Bosch disconnected (the cellphone) and looked over at Lourdes.
‘No bullet in the victim?’ she asked.
Bosch stifled a yawn. He was beginning to feel the effects of the all-nighter...
‘No bullet,’ he said. ‘And they want our help.’
‘Of course they do,’ Lourdes said.

MIDNIGHT TURNING POINT
The wood ant watches silently, looks into
nothing. And nothing’s heard but drips from dim
leakage and the night’s murmuring deep in
summer’s canyon...
Bird cry! And at last. The cloud-packs slowly
begin to roll.
- So reminiscent of late Sibelius soundscapes!