Month: January 2023

01/16/23 Biking & Listening

Biking is something else I both love and hate. It takes a lot of effort but does provide good exercise and most days over an hour to listen to a good book or podcast. I especially like having ridden.

Here’s my bike, a Rockhopper by Specialized. I purchased it November 2021 from Venture Out in Guntersville; Mike is top notch! So is the bike, and the ‘old’ man seat I salvaged from an old Walmart bike.

Here’s a link to today’s bike ride. It’s what I call my pistol route, which is my goal every day. But, sometimes cold weather says otherwise.

Here’s what I’m currently listening to:

Making Sense of the Foundations of Morality

About this episode:

January 5, 2023

In this episode, we try to trace morality to its elusive foundations. Throughout the compilation we take a look at Sam’s “Moral Landscape” and his effort to defend an objective path towards moral evaluation.

We begin with the moral philosopher Peter Singer who outlines his famous “shallow pond” analogy and the framework of utilitarianism. We then hear from the moral psychologist Paul Bloom who makes the case against empathy and points out how it is more often a “bug” in our moral software than a “feature.” Later, William MacAskill describes the way a utilitarian philosophy informs his engagement with the Effective Altruism movement.

The moral psychologist Jonathan Haidt then puts pressure on Sam’s emphasis on rationality and objective pathways towards morality by injecting a healthy dose of psychological skepticism into the conversation.

After, we hear a fascinating exchange with the historian Dan Carlin where he and Sam tangle on the fraught issues of cultural relativism.

We end by exploring the intersection of technological innovation and moral progress with the entrepreneur Uma Valeti, whom Sam seeks out when he encounters his own collision with a personal moral failure.

About the Series

Filmmaker Jay Shapiro has produced The Essential Sam Harris, a new series of audio documentaries exploring the major topics that Sam has focused on over the course of his career.

Each episode weaves together original analysis, critical perspective, and novel thought experiments with some of the most compelling exchanges from the Making Sense archive. Whether you are new to a particular topic, or think you have your mind made up about it, we think you’ll find this series fascinating.

Drafting—Colton finds Millie’s note

Something was up. No lights downstairs, upstairs, anywhere. The front porch light was always on when he returned from work on Friday nights, even if Millie and Molly were gone on a jog or a walk. Colton turned off S. Princeton into his driveway. Hadn’t he promised Millie they’d go out tonight?

He parked and walked up the stairs. The front door was locked. It shouldn’t be. Both of them knew he didn’t like fiddling with keys. Where’s Molly? Hadn’t he called Millie at work and left a message with Catherine that he wanted Molly to go out with them tonight?

Inside, he flipped on the overhead light and walked to the kitchen for a beer. He closed the refrigerator and saw a note laying on the table. There was one sheet of paper ripped from a spiral bound notebook. Colton pulled back his chair and sat. It was Millie’s writing. He glanced at the back side. It was blank but there were two airline tickets underneath.

The flight was today. O’Hare to Houston, with a 4:00 PM arrival. He downed half his Bud, and read the note. Twice. It wasn’t a surprise Millie and Molly had fled. The surprise was that it had taken them so long to leave. The other two women he’d lived with hadn’t lasted a year.

Colton finished his beer, slung the bottle toward the sink, and grabbed another. He drawled out a deep burp and yelled, “you fucking bitch.” An equally loud laugh erupted. “Stupid, stupid. You think I’m buying what you’re selling, that you and Molly have gone to Houston?” He picked up one of the tickets and looked again. Maybe she’s trying that reverse psychology trick on me.

The only thing that bothered him was not knowing how to reach her. Without her testimony the DA had him over a barrel, a barrel shaped like an eight by eight jail cell.

Six months ago Colton and Sandy, his best bud, met two gorgeous University of Chicago sophomores at Mitchell’s Tap, their favorite hangout. Two games of darts and a half-hour of dancing had led to a few drinks but unequal desires. Ellen and Gina’s excuse for leaving was they had to study. Colton’s temper flared. Hell, it was Friday night. Who studies on Friday night? He figured the girls had played them, just wanted to flirt and enjoy some free drinks. It’s our age, Sandy had offered. “At least fifteen years older.” The two young lasses had left without a mere thank you. Rejection was something neither man could manage.

After quickly dismissing the thought of more darts, Colton and Sandy had tailed Ellen and Gina outside to the parking lot and on to an older house on South Morgan Street. There, inside, the women refused to come to the door. They obviously didn’t understand the two men standing on their porch would not be so easily deterred.

An hour later, the men returned donning ski masks and wielding a crowbar. The rear door was easily breached. The women resisted at first but soon surrendered, doing what they were told, hoping they’d live to see Monday morning classes.

Before the night was over, Colton and Sandy had taken everything they came for. The sixteen hundred cash was a bonus but cost Ellen a finger. To start with. Shortly before dawn, a distant siren and a ringing land line scared them off, but not before tying the women up, dousing the place with five gallons of gasoline Colton kept in the bed of his truck, and tossing lite matches in both bedrooms. After retrieving his truck from Mitchell’s Tap, Colton had driven home and awakened a sleeping Millie. Molly was at Alisha’s for a sleepover.

At first, Millie didn’t ask a question, just wondered silently why Colton was so disheveled with two scratches on his fact. “I may need you to provide an alibi.” Millie refused to tell anyone that he’d returned from Mitchell’s at 10:30 PM. She changed her mind when Colton threatened Molly.

Two weeks ago, the DA had secured an indictment against him and Sandy for burglary, robbery, rape, sodomy, false imprisonment, and arson. Colton’s defense attorney and investigator had subsequently learned that somehow Gina had managed to escape the burning house, but had hid out for nearly a week before approaching the police. No doubt, Gina was the DA’s key witness and was saying it had to be the two men she and Ellen had partied with at Mitchell’s earlier that night. City detectives had no trouble identifying Colton Lee Atwood and J. Sanford Brown. Unfortunately for the DA, there was no physical evidence Colton and Sandy were the perpetrators.

Colton tossed the second beer bottle in the sink and grabbed two more. He’d been in trouble before but nothing like this. At least he could be thankful he’d worn a condom when he’d fucked the tight-bodied Gina. But, he knew her testimony would be enough to put him and Sandy into the lion’s den of a trial, and without Millie’s alibi, the two of them could spend the rest of their lives in prison.

Colton swore he’d find Molly and Millie. If she refused to fully cooperate, he’d kidnap Molly and hold her until Millie lied that he was at home before 11:00 PM and stayed there all night. Colton knew Molly was the key to his freedom. The sweet, sexually maturing little girl was Millie’s weakness. She wouldn’t dare hesitate to protect the most important person in her world.

01/15/23 Biking & Listening

Biking is something else I both love and hate. It takes a lot of effort but does provide good exercise and most days over an hour to listen to a good book or podcast. I especially like having ridden.

Here’s my bike, a Rockhopper by Specialized. I purchased it November 2021 from Venture Out in Guntersville; Mike is top notch! So is the bike, and the ‘old’ man seat I salvaged from an old Walmart bike.

Here’s a link to today’s bike ride. It’s what I call my pistol route, which is my goal every day. But, sometimes cold weather says otherwise.

Here’s what I’m currently listening to: The First Deadly Sin, by Lawrence Sanders

Sanders was a tremendously talented writer.

Amazon abstract:

The #1 New York Times–bestselling author introduces readers to “a great detective, a detective’s detective,” New York cop Edward X. Delaney (Kirkus Reviews).

New York Police Department Captain Edward Delaney is called to the scene of a brutal murder. A Brooklyn councilman was struck from behind, the back of his skull punctured and crushed with an unknown weapon. The victim wasn’t robbed, and there’s no known motive. The commissioner appoints Delaney to head up a clandestine task force, but soon this effort ignites an internecine war of departmental backstabbing.   Distracted by the serious illness of his wife, Barbara, Delaney begins his secret investigation. Then the killer claims another victim—slain in the exact same way, leaving the strange puncture wound. As more young men are found murdered, Delaney starts putting the pieces together. Soon, he’s faced with a cop’s dilemma: He knows who the killer is, but the man is untouchable. That’s when Delaney lays a trap to bring a monster to justice . . .

Learn more–read this great review on Amazon by Pennydreadful

I feel I may have cheated when reading this book because I read it in gosh, too many years ago to count. However, Sanders’s Deadly Sin series were the first stories that put my heart to pounding and made me wish I could write. Recently, I wanted to see if that belief was still true, and darned if it isn’t.

Lawrence Sanders quite simply is a master. Of characterization, of research, of police procedure, of getting inside the characters’ (and readers’ heads). His set up might indeed be frowned upon today. He starts the book with several chapters surrounding the antagonist, and then we meet Captain Edward X. Delaney and several chapters pertain to him and the politics surrounding a police captain with a critically ill wife.

But a killer is on the streets of New York City, and soon Captain Delaney is torn. Torn between sitting by his wife’s bedside and putting a madman away. Naturally it’s not as simple as that because politics and a power struggle are afoot, and a new kind of police reorganization affects the department all the way to the mayors’ office.

Edward X Delaney’s wife takes a turn for the worse, and he tries to resign. A police commissioner persuades him to take a leave of absence. But in the midst of all the politics and turmoil affecting the police department, the commissioner convinces Delaney to work in secret and independently while using his years of detective experience to find the killer who is walking the streets of New York and murdering unsuspecting men with an ice ax.

To accomplish this private investigation, Captain Delaney must do much of the leg work and research himself. To do this he recruits civilians to aid him in this quest, including a bedridden mountain climber, a 70+ retired curator dying to be of assistance and the widow of one of Blank’s victims [Blank is the suspect]. Much of the case is done thanks to these people when the city is in a full-blown panic because of the new administrations’ blunders and inability to catch the killer.

Captain Delaney is called back to work. And with police resources given him, he makes every effort to stop a killer from killing again.

A masterpiece of writing.

The Universe in Verse–introduction to the 2021-2022 season

I encourage you to travel with me throughout the universe over the next few weeks. We should go ahead and thank Maria Popova and her many connections for what they’ve been up to.

Here’s how Maria describes this marvelous ‘spaceship’ she calls “The Universe in Verse.”

An annual charitable celebration of the wonder of reality through stories of science winged with poetry, born in 2017 as part celebration of life and part protest against the assault on science, nature, and reality — that is, on life — in the era of “alternative facts” and vanishing environmental protections.  

Maria Popova

Here’s a link to the following article. I’d encourage you to save it. I’ll try to post something from this multi-year journey every few days.

ANIMATED INTERLUDE SEASON (2021-2022)

The Universe in Verse was born in 2017 as part celebration of the wonder of life and the splendor of reality, and part protest against the assault on science and nature — that is, on life and reality — in the era of “alternative facts” and vanishing environmental protections. An act of resistance and an act of persistence. Fierce insistence on the felicitous expression of nature in human nature, with our capacity for music and mathematics, for art and hope.

Spring after spring, it remained a live gathering and a labor of love. Then, in the gatherless disorientation of the pandemic, I joined forces with my friends at On Being to reimagine the spirit of The Universe in Verse in a different incarnation — a season of perspective-broadening, mind-deepening, heart-leavening stories about science and our search for truth, enlivened by animated poems with original music: emblems of our longing for meaning.

Carrying the animations are stories about relativity and the evolution of flowers, about entropy and space telescopes, about dark matter and the octopus consciousness, illustrated with poems new and old, by Emily Dickinson and Richard Feynman, by W.H. Auden and Tracy K. Smith, by Marilyn Nelson and Edna St. Vincent Millay, brought to life by a human constellation strewn across spacetime and difference: twenty-nine largehearted artists, musicians, writers, scientists, and other weavers of wonder, who have poured their time and talent into this improbable labor of love. The total distance between them exceeds the circumference of the globe. Half a century stretches between the youngest and the eldest.

Among them are Yo-Yo Ma, Joan As Police Woman, David Byrne, Sophie Blackall, Amanda Palmer, Janna Levin, Ohara Hale, Maira Kalman, Debbie Millman, Toshi Reagon, Daniel Bruson, Zoë Keating, Garth Stevenson, Sy Montgomery, Jherek Bischoff, Edwina White, James Dunlap, Marissa Davis, Tom McRae, Topu Lyo, Gautam Srikishan, Lottie Kingslake, Kelli Anderson, Liang-Hsin Huang, and Patti Smith.

Released over the course of the season, each of the nine chapters begins with a science story and ends with an animated poem chosen to illuminate the scientific fact with the sidewise gleam of feeling. Two of the poems (including the one in the opening chapter) are set to song, and seven are soulful readings scored with original music by a different composer. Each miniature totality is brought to life by a different performer and shimmers with visual magic by a different artist. Each is a portable cosmos of gladness at the chance-miracle of aliveness: all of us, suspended here in this sliver of spacetime, with our stories and our poems and each other.

Highlights from the previous seasons can be seen here.

Writing and snake-handling

Yesterday, I finally focused on a task I’d been postponing for days. It was time for a new tag line for my website.

Even though my web address is my name, a year or so ago I’d given it a title that meant a lot to me personally: The Pencil Driven Life. I’d coined this phrase much earlier. Initially, it was created as a response to Rick Warren’s book, The Purpose Driven Life.

In it, Warren claims that God creates every human with a purpose. This comes about before each person is conceived. Although I once believed this, I no longer do. The Pencil Driven Life is simply the reverse, the opposite of Warren’s position. I now believe that there’s insufficient reason to believe Warren’s God exists. Thus, what naturally follows is that every person creates his or her own meaning; it comes from within, not from without. Each person decides what he wants to pursue. And, there’s no better creative tool than the lowly pencil. Properly used, this wonderful tool is a pathway to clarify one’s thinking and choosing what matters. It’s all about individual choice, not some supernatural force superimposing his/her/its choice.

My old tag line was: Reading and writing will change your life for the good. I wanted to make myself more clear. At bottom, I wanted my new tag line to express what I’d personally discovered since changing my religious beliefs, and starting a regular writing practice in 2015.

After an hour or so of thinking, doodling, considering various words and their definitions, and reviewing what many others have said about why they write, this is the current result: Writing is a tool for thinking, for discovering the truth obscured by a cluttered, unquestioning, and gullible mind.

Consider these words and their definitions (quotation marks omitted):
Cluttered–filled or scattered with a disorderly accumulation of objects or rubbish;
Unquestioning–not inclined to ask questions, being without doubt or reserve;
Gullible–naive and easily deceived or tricked.

Look carefully at the following quote. I don’t think anyone–ever–has better illustrated the necessity of writing.

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear.

Joan Didion

Note the meaning of necessity—“the condition of being essential or indispensable.” To Joan and many others, including me, writing is essential to a good life.

If we want to think better we need to start writing. Don’t believe this? Then, take this test. Sit down, alone, with as few distractions as possible. Start observing your mind. It won’t take long to discover it’s a mess (“dirty and disorderly”). Thoughts start appearing. You can’t stop them and most of them vanish as rapidly as they appear. It’s chaotic, disorderly. I close my eyes and my first thought is a snake story. More on this later.

None of this means writing isn’t messy. It is. Try it. You’ll soon conclude it’s a arduous process. The difference between initial thoughts and first scribblings, and a cogent representation of what you’re looking at, of what you’re seeing, and of what it means, is in the focusing, the determination, the doggedness of the rewriting.

Ernest Hemingway once said, “the only kind of writing is rewriting.” And, in the same vein, Robert Graves said, “there is no such thing as good writing, only good rewriting.” I’m certain Joan Didion would agree. It was not in her “easily deceived” mind or in her first marks on the page, but in her rewriting that she discovered what truly was obscured inside the cluttered back-room of her mind. I think it goes without saying that rewriting involves a ton of questioning.

Let’s talk about snakes. Today, I saw a 2014 abcNews article titled, “Snake-Handling Pentecostal Pastor Dies From Snake Bite.” Here’s the link. I encourage you to read it and watch the embedded video.

In a separate Google search, here’s what this pastor, Jamie Coots, said some years before his death in response to the question, “What does the Bible mean by taking up serpents?”

Takin’ up serpents, to me, it’s just showin’ that God has power over something that he created that does have the potential of injuring you or takin’ your life.

Jamie Coots

Was Mr. Coots correct? Let’s say we’d heard about snake handling, and learned that those who practiced it believed it’s how Jesus wanted Christians to demonstrate their faith. Maybe we’ve done some reading on the topic and even sat in a service at Full Gospel Tabernacle in Jesus Name in Middlesboro, Ky.

We’re back home now and want to sort things out–we want to find out what we’re thinking, what we’re looking at, what we see and what it means. What we want and what we fear. We grab a pencil and notepad and start brainstorming, jotting down a number of questions. Such as, what does the Bible actually say? And, what happened to Pastor Coots? Was he a true believer?

The abcNEWS article referenced Mark 16:18, so we look it up. As an aside, I recalled my beliefs from my sixty years as a Southern Baptist fundamentalist, and, after considering the above article and video, I quickly discover I’d never been as ‘fundamentalist’ as Jamie Coots.

For better context, here’s Mark 16:15-18 in the King James Version:

15 And he said unto them, Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.
16 He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned.
17 And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues;
18 They shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.

For comparison, here’s the passage in the New International Version:

15 [Jesus] said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.
16 Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.
17 And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues;
18 they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.

The first thing we note is the problem of interpreting verse 18. Ignoring the ‘taking up’ versus ‘picking up’ in the first part of this verse, it seems the subject is changed to drinking deadly poison. Do we assume it means the person with the snake in hand somehow drinks some of the snakes venom? That seems odd given what we know about how the venom is transferred via the snake’s bite. Oddly, it seems to say something else, that some other person, if they drink deadly poison, the result will be positve. “[I]t will not hurt them.”

For now, let’s skip over this and hypothesize Mark is saying a true believer can handle snakes and not be harmed. And, even further (since it’s all in the same verse; probably not the best assumption), the true believer’s action of snake handling will give them power to heal sick folks.

As to our question whether Mr. Coots was a true believer, it appears he either wasn’t or there’s something else going on. Again, look at the Coots quote from above: “Takin’ up serpents, to me, it’s just showin’ that God has power over something that he created that does have the potential of injuring you or takin’ your life.” We might ask ourselves concerning Coots, what happened to God’s power?

Can we conclude Jesus’ promise applies only to “believers”? True believers are saved. The snakes will not harm true believers. Why not scribble a note to the side of our paper: Right now I have grave doubts what I’m reading here in Mark represents reality.

We dig a little deeper. Let’s look back at our NIV Bible. At the end of Mark 16:8, there’s a footnote:

“Mark 16:8 Some manuscripts have the following ending between verses 8 and 9, and one manuscript has it after verse 8 (omitting verses 9-20): Then they quickly reported all these instructions to those around Peter. After this, Jesus himself also sent out through them from east to west the sacred and imperishable proclamation of eternal salvation. Amen.”

Here’s verses 9-20 in the NIV:

9 When Jesus rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. 10 She went and told those who had been with him and who were mourning and weeping. 11 When they heard that Jesus was alive and that she had seen him, they did not believe it. 12 Afterward Jesus appeared in a different form to two of them while they were walking in the country. 13 These returned and reported it to the rest; but they did not believe them either. 14 Later Jesus appeared to the Eleven as they were eating; he rebuked them for their lack of faith and their stubborn refusal to believe those who had seen him after he had risen. 15 He said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation. 16 Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. 17 And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; 18 they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well.” 19 After the Lord Jesus had spoken to them, he was taken up into heaven and he sat at the right hand of God. 20 Then the disciples went out and preached everywhere, and the Lord worked with them and confirmed his word by the signs that accompanied it.

Two observations. First, it’s reasonable to conclude these verses were added to later manuscripts to support Jesus and a supernatural resurrection (see especially vs. 19). The second observation is that these highly questionable verses include our snake handling promise, including the promise such handlers will have special powers to heal sick folks.

It appears reasonable to question whether Mr. Coots sole authority for his Christian snake-handling beliefs, for his God-inspired way to demonstrate his faith, shouldn’t even be included in the Bible. Of course, this assumes the Bible, without these verses is the inerrant, infallible word of God. I wanted show it here but it doesn’t take much research to conclude Mark didn’t write the book of Mark. The author or authors are anonymous. But, we’ll leave that alone for now.

It seems our first draft raised some serious issues, none of which will likely be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction, especially to folks like Jamie Coots.

But, what about you? Will you stake your life on Rick Warren’s Bible? Believing God created and ordained you for a specific purpose in this life? Believing God that you’ll come to no harm handling those diamondback rattlers?

Or, is it more likely that if you do lean toward trusting in Warren’s Bible, you’ll at least ignore Mark 16:18 and cherry pick other verses to decide what you believe?

Ending thoughts. Why didn’t earlier manuscripts include verses 9-20? And, was Jamie Coots more likely to become a snake-handling Christian because of his ancestors (recall, both his father and grandfather were snake-handlers)? If so, does this indicate where we are born and to what parents and what they believe may be the primary reason we believe as we do.

Finally, can writing help us make better choices? Recall my new tag line: Writing is a tool for thinking, for discovering the truth obscured by a cluttered, unquestioning, and gullible mind.

Want a life with fewer snakes? Then, write to life.

For additional insight into Mark 16, read David Madison’s article, The Colossal Embarrassment of Mark 16.

01/06/23 Biking & Listening

Biking is something else I both love and hate. It takes a lot of effort but does provide good exercise and most days over an hour to listen to a good book or podcast. I especially like having ridden.

Here’s my bike, a Rockhopper by Specialized. I purchased it November 2021 from Venture Out in Guntersville; Mike is top notch! So is the bike, and the ‘old’ man seat I salvaged from an old Walmart bike.

Here’s a link to my January 6th bike ride. It’s what I call my pistol route, which is my goal every day. But, sometimes cold weather says otherwise.

Here’s what I’m currently listening to: The First Deadly Sin, by Lawrence Sanders

Sanders was a tremendously talented writer.

Amazon abstract:

The #1 New York Times–bestselling author introduces readers to “a great detective, a detective’s detective,” New York cop Edward X. Delaney (Kirkus Reviews).

New York Police Department Captain Edward Delaney is called to the scene of a brutal murder. A Brooklyn councilman was struck from behind, the back of his skull punctured and crushed with an unknown weapon. The victim wasn’t robbed, and there’s no known motive. The commissioner appoints Delaney to head up a clandestine task force, but soon this effort ignites an internecine war of departmental backstabbing.   Distracted by the serious illness of his wife, Barbara, Delaney begins his secret investigation. Then the killer claims another victim—slain in the exact same way, leaving the strange puncture wound. As more young men are found murdered, Delaney starts putting the pieces together. Soon, he’s faced with a cop’s dilemma: He knows who the killer is, but the man is untouchable. That’s when Delaney lays a trap to bring a monster to justice . . .

Learn more–read this great review on Amazon by Pennydreadful

I feel I may have cheated when reading this book because I read it in gosh, too many years ago to count. However, Sanders’s Deadly Sin series were the first stories that put my heart to pounding and made me wish I could write. Recently, I wanted to see if that belief was still true, and darned if it isn’t.

Lawrence Sanders quite simply is a master. Of characterization, of research, of police procedure, of getting inside the characters’ (and readers’ heads). His set up might indeed be frowned upon today. He starts the book with several chapters surrounding the antagonist, and then we meet Captain Edward X. Delaney and several chapters pertain to him and the politics surrounding a police captain with a critically ill wife.

But a killer is on the streets of New York City, and soon Captain Delaney is torn. Torn between sitting by his wife’s bedside and putting a madman away. Naturally it’s not as simple as that because politics and a power struggle are afoot, and a new kind of police reorganization affects the department all the way to the mayors’ office.

Edward X Delaney’s wife takes a turn for the worse, and he tries to resign. A police commissioner persuades him to take a leave of absence. But in the midst of all the politics and turmoil affecting the police department, the commissioner convinces Delaney to work in secret and independently while using his years of detective experience to find the killer who is walking the streets of New York and murdering unsuspecting men with an ice ax.

To accomplish this private investigation, Captain Delaney must do much of the leg work and research himself. To do this he recruits civilians to aid him in this quest, including a bedridden mountain climber, a 70+ retired curator dying to be of assistance and the widow of one of Blank’s victims [Blank is the suspect]. Much of the case is done thanks to these people when the city is in a full-blown panic because of the new administrations’ blunders and inability to catch the killer.

Captain Delaney is called back to work. And with police resources given him, he makes every effort to stop a killer from killing again.

A masterpiece of writing.

01/13/23 Biking & Listening

Biking is something else I both love and hate. It takes a lot of effort but does provide good exercise and most days over an hour to listen to a good book or podcast. I especially like having ridden.

Here’s my bike, a Rockhopper by Specialized. I purchased it November 2021 from Venture Out in Guntersville; Mike is top notch! So is the bike, and the ‘old’ man seat I salvaged from an old Walmart bike.

Here’s a link to today’s bike ride. It’s what I call my pistol route, which is my goal every day. But, sometimes cold weather says otherwise.

Here’s what I’m currently listening to: The First Deadly Sin, by Lawrence Sanders

Sanders was a tremendously talented writer.

Amazon abstract:

The #1 New York Times–bestselling author introduces readers to “a great detective, a detective’s detective,” New York cop Edward X. Delaney (Kirkus Reviews).

New York Police Department Captain Edward Delaney is called to the scene of a brutal murder. A Brooklyn councilman was struck from behind, the back of his skull punctured and crushed with an unknown weapon. The victim wasn’t robbed, and there’s no known motive. The commissioner appoints Delaney to head up a clandestine task force, but soon this effort ignites an internecine war of departmental backstabbing.   Distracted by the serious illness of his wife, Barbara, Delaney begins his secret investigation. Then the killer claims another victim—slain in the exact same way, leaving the strange puncture wound. As more young men are found murdered, Delaney starts putting the pieces together. Soon, he’s faced with a cop’s dilemma: He knows who the killer is, but the man is untouchable. That’s when Delaney lays a trap to bring a monster to justice . . .

Learn more–read this great review on Amazon by Pennydreadful

I feel I may have cheated when reading this book because I read it in gosh, too many years ago to count. However, Sanders’s Deadly Sin series were the first stories that put my heart to pounding and made me wish I could write. Recently, I wanted to see if that belief was still true, and darned if it isn’t.

Lawrence Sanders quite simply is a master. Of characterization, of research, of police procedure, of getting inside the characters’ (and readers’ heads). His set up might indeed be frowned upon today. He starts the book with several chapters surrounding the antagonist, and then we meet Captain Edward X. Delaney and several chapters pertain to him and the politics surrounding a police captain with a critically ill wife.

But a killer is on the streets of New York City, and soon Captain Delaney is torn. Torn between sitting by his wife’s bedside and putting a madman away. Naturally it’s not as simple as that because politics and a power struggle are afoot, and a new kind of police reorganization affects the department all the way to the mayors’ office.

Edward X Delaney’s wife takes a turn for the worse, and he tries to resign. A police commissioner persuades him to take a leave of absence. But in the midst of all the politics and turmoil affecting the police department, the commissioner convinces Delaney to work in secret and independently while using his years of detective experience to find the killer who is walking the streets of New York and murdering unsuspecting men with an ice ax.

To accomplish this private investigation, Captain Delaney must do much of the leg work and research himself. To do this he recruits civilians to aid him in this quest, including a bedridden mountain climber, a 70+ retired curator dying to be of assistance and the widow of one of Blank’s victims [Blank is the suspect]. Much of the case is done thanks to these people when the city is in a full-blown panic because of the new administrations’ blunders and inability to catch the killer.

Captain Delaney is called back to work. And with police resources given him, he makes every effort to stop a killer from killing again.

A masterpiece of writing.

Drafting–Colton finds Millie’s note


Something was up. No lights downstairs, upstairs, anywhere. The front porch light was always on when he returned from work on Friday nights, even if Millie and Molly were gone on a jog or walk. Colton turned off S. Princeton into his driveway. Hadn’t he promised Millie they’d go out tonight?

Colton parked and walked up the stairs. The front door was locked. It shouldn’t be. Both of them knew he didn’t like fiddling with keys. Where’s Molly? Hadn’t he called Millie at work and left a message with Catherine he wanted Molly to go out with them tonight?

Inside, he flipped on the overhead light and walked to the kitchen for a beer. He closed the refrigerator and saw a note laying on the table in front of his chair. There was one sheet of paper ripped from a spiral bound notebook. Colton pulled back his chair and sat. It was Millie’s writing. On one side of the page. There were two airline tickets underneath.

The flight was today. O’Hare to Houston, with a 4:00 PM arrival. He downed half his Bud, and read the note. Twice. It wasn’t a surprise. The surprise was that it had taken Millie so long to leave. The other two women he’d lived with hadn’t lasted a year.

Colton finished his beer, slung the bottle toward the sink, and grabbed another. He drawled out a deep burp and yelled, “you fucking bitch.” An equally loud laugh erupted. “Stupid, stupid. You think I’m buying what you’re selling? That you and Molly have gone to Houston?” He picked up one of the tickets and looked again. Maybe she’s trying that reverse psychology trick on me, Colton thought.

The only thing that bothered him was not knowing how to reach her. Without her testimony the DA had him over a barrel, a barrel shaped like an eight by eight jail cell.

Six months ago Colton and Sandy, his best bud, had met two chicks at Mitchell’s Tap, their favorite hangout. After a few drinks, they’d followed them to a house on n apartment on South Morgan Street. Rejection was something neither man could manage. The women hadn’t understood that. It might have had something to do with the ski masks. Eventually, both women surrendered and did what they were told. Colton and Sandy had taken everything they came for. The sixteen hundred cash was a bonus but, to start with, it had cost Ellen a finger. Later, it had cost more.

Shortly before dawn, a distant siren and a neighbor’s knock on the door scared them off, but not before they’d doused the place and struck a match. After retrieving his truck from Mitchell’s Tap, Colton had driven home and awakened a sleeping Millie. Molly was at Alisha’s for a sleepover.

At first, Millie didn’t ask a question, just wondered silently why Colton was so disheveled with two scratches on his fact. “I may need you to provide an alibi.” Millie refused to tell anyone that he’d returned from Mitchell’s at 10:30 PM. She changed her mind when Colton threatened Molly.

Two weeks ago, the DA had secured an indictment against him and Sandy for burglary, robbery, rape, sodomy, false imprisonment, and arson. Colton’s defense attorney and investigator had subsequently learned that somehow Gina had managed to escape the burning house, but had hid out for nearly a week before approaching the police. No doubt, Gina was the DA’s key witness and was saying it had to be the two men she and Ellen had partied with at Mitchell’s earlier that night. City detectives had no trouble identifying Colton Lee Atwood and J. Sandford Brown. Unfortunately for the DA, there was no physical evidence Colton and Sandy were the perpetrators.

He tossed the second beer bottle in the sink and grabbed two more. Colton had been in trouble before but nothing like this. At least he could be thankful he’d worn a condom when he’d screwed the tight-assed Gina. But, he knew her testimony would be enough to put him and Sandy into the lion’s den and without Millie’s alibi testimony could easily send the two of them to prison for the rest of their lives.

Colton swore he’d find Molly and Millie. He wouldn’t ask again. He’d kidnap Molly and hold her until Millie lied that he and Sandy were at their house by 11:00 PM and stayed all night. Millie wouldn’t hesitate to protect the most important person in her world.

Drafting–Toledo>Cleveland>Akron>Youngstown—Molly


Molly was still cold. According to the TV in Subway, the outside temperature was 25 degrees. It didn’t feel much warmer inside the bus. After the bus departed Toledo and crossed the Maumee River, she quickly realized the need for extra clothing. It had been fortuitous her mother had bought the thick red Christmas sweater while at Walmart. Molly wished she’d insisted on some insulated under-clothes; not cotton, but wool. Oh well, at least the seat was comfortable, and it reclined.

It didn’t take long for Millie and Molly to settle in and start listening to music through their cell phones. Greyhound offered WiFi but didn’t allow streaming YouTube or any other service—something about slowing down WiFi for other passengers. Thankfully, at Walmart after activating their new phones, Molly had suggested downloading some music for their journey since their data plans were so small. With Walmart’s WiFi, and Catherine’s Spotify account, they now had an assortment of play-lists to pick from. Molly assumed her mother’s best friend at work at volunteered her access codes. Millie wouldn’t have asked.

After two songs, Molly removed her ear plugs and listened. No doubt her mother was fast asleep. Her slow and soft consistent puffs were a dead giveaway. Molly straightened her seat, reached for her book bag nestled at her feet, and removed the iPhone 7 Alisha had given her last night.

Molly didn’t hesitate to text her BFF. “Are you still up?” The short and dumpy redhead had come into her life in Kindergarten. They’d been best buds ever since. There were no secrets between them.

“Yep, just lying here thinking about you, wondering where you are and why I haven’t heard anything all day.” Catherine wasn’t the only person who was generous. It had been Alisha’s idea. Last night during the sleepover Molly and Alisha had cried themselves to sleep troubled they might never see each other again. But, this morning, early, before Molly had gotten out of bed, Alisha had snuck out of her room and conversed with Alistair, her fifteen year old brother. In exchange for doing his chores for two months, he had given her an old iPhone 7. It no longer had phone service but still worked on WiFi. Molly had been reluctant to accept it but did so at Alisha’s insistence. “How else are we going to communicate?”

“I’m on a Greyhound bus. Our car broke down in Perrysburg, Ohio. Mom rules.”

“That’s kinda cool. Where are you now?” Molly could picture Alisha’s bedroom. Three times the size of her tiny room. Alisha, Alistair and their parents lived in the Auburn Gresham area in what was clearly a mansion compared to the old and deteriorating dump on Princeton Avenue where Millie and Molly, and Mr. Demon lived. Oh to have had a safe opportunity this morning to call him that to his face.

“About ninety minutes from Cleveland. It’ll take 24 hours to reach NYC. Mom said it’s only nine hours by car, straight through.”

Molly kept glancing at her mother knowing she’d be livid if she discovered the secret phone. The guilt was palpable, as was the loneliness Molly felt from being separated from her best friend. This war had caused Molly’s hesitation in accepting Alisha’s gift. What if the old iPhone somehow someway led Mr. Demon to them in New York City? Alisha had assured her that was impossible. She’d asked Alistair the same question. “It’s untraceable without a sim card.” Molly hoped that was correct.

“That’s a downer. Btw, how’s your mom?” Molly had shared her mother’s roller-coaster emotional ride since Mr. Demon’s first attack.

“She had to go to the ER last night. The bastard hit her with a beer can. Caused a big gap above her eye. Took three stitches. Her fight eye is almost black. Thankfully, she’s held together good and is taking her meds like she’s supposed to.”

TO BE CONTINUED

01/11/23 Biking & Listening

Biking is something else I both love and hate. It takes a lot of effort but does provide good exercise and most days over an hour to listen to a good book or podcast. I especially like having ridden.

Here’s my bike, a Rockhopper by Specialized. I purchased it November 2021 from Venture Out in Guntersville; Mike is top notch! So is the bike, and the ‘old’ man seat I salvaged from an old Walmart bike.

Here’s a link to today’s bike ride. It’s what I call my pistol route, which is my goal every day. But, sometimes cold weather says otherwise.

Here’s what I’m currently listening to: The First Deadly Sin, by Lawrence Sanders

Sanders was a tremendously talented writer.

Amazon abstract:

The #1 New York Times–bestselling author introduces readers to “a great detective, a detective’s detective,” New York cop Edward X. Delaney (Kirkus Reviews).

New York Police Department Captain Edward Delaney is called to the scene of a brutal murder. A Brooklyn councilman was struck from behind, the back of his skull punctured and crushed with an unknown weapon. The victim wasn’t robbed, and there’s no known motive. The commissioner appoints Delaney to head up a clandestine task force, but soon this effort ignites an internecine war of departmental backstabbing.   Distracted by the serious illness of his wife, Barbara, Delaney begins his secret investigation. Then the killer claims another victim—slain in the exact same way, leaving the strange puncture wound. As more young men are found murdered, Delaney starts putting the pieces together. Soon, he’s faced with a cop’s dilemma: He knows who the killer is, but the man is untouchable. That’s when Delaney lays a trap to bring a monster to justice . . .

Learn more–read this great review on Amazon by Pennydreadful

I feel I may have cheated when reading this book because I read it in gosh, too many years ago to count. However, Sanders’s Deadly Sin series were the first stories that put my heart to pounding and made me wish I could write. Recently, I wanted to see if that belief was still true, and darned if it isn’t.

Lawrence Sanders quite simply is a master. Of characterization, of research, of police procedure, of getting inside the characters’ (and readers’ heads). His set up might indeed be frowned upon today. He starts the book with several chapters surrounding the antagonist, and then we meet Captain Edward X. Delaney and several chapters pertain to him and the politics surrounding a police captain with a critically ill wife.

But a killer is on the streets of New York City, and soon Captain Delaney is torn. Torn between sitting by his wife’s bedside and putting a madman away. Naturally it’s not as simple as that because politics and a power struggle are afoot, and a new kind of police reorganization affects the department all the way to the mayors’ office.

Edward X Delaney’s wife takes a turn for the worse, and he tries to resign. A police commissioner persuades him to take a leave of absence. But in the midst of all the politics and turmoil affecting the police department, the commissioner convinces Delaney to work in secret and independently while using his years of detective experience to find the killer who is walking the streets of New York and murdering unsuspecting men with an ice ax.

To accomplish this private investigation, Captain Delaney must do much of the leg work and research himself. To do this he recruits civilians to aid him in this quest, including a bedridden mountain climber, a 70+ retired curator dying to be of assistance and the widow of one of Blank’s victims [Blank is the suspect]. Much of the case is done thanks to these people when the city is in a full-blown panic because of the new administrations’ blunders and inability to catch the killer.

Captain Delaney is called back to work. And with police resources given him, he makes every effort to stop a killer from killing again.

A masterpiece of writing.