The Past is Beneath “Criticism” ; The ‘Optimal Future’ is a Function of Probability, and a Fortune of a Sincere Continuuity arising from Purer Premises of the Moment.

Man’s relationship with time is in the most literary sense of the term : ‘Skin Deep’.

For Time, wrinkles up, it seems on the body of Man, a reducing force, a keeper of accounts, a gushing, senseless, voice, capable of unconditionally impressing on the Skin of Man the irrevocable function of his experiences : Decay.

But what Is Time? What Is Man? And what is Superficial, and What is Not ? The statements above risk sounding foolish and appear as indictments, if these Vital Premises are not exposed of their conjurations. To Do So necessitates a Study of Relationships, rather than an examination in parts. How they relate and feel and form, rather than how they are divided from one another. More the Appreciation, and the less the mechanics ensures and insures a more Sublime and indeed, Complete Understanding – much as an analyses of cones and heights and cylinders, have never contributed on those mere grounds – to a Musician’s capacity to play the Organ better than he would not knowing its configured — one might say — ‘Superficial’ —  intricacies.

The reason the premise of “Man versus Time” is in a holistic and observable sense, insofar as it is an ‘Objective Phenomena’, is technically superficial is on account of the fact, nothing literally or otherwise, – could be more profound to Man, than Man’s Relationship With Himself.

Just as the Less is not More, Man is not the Time he Spends. That Statement does not require an added study of ‘Expenditures and Balance Sheets’ to be any more Qualified than they appear in that Self-Evident Form above in the allegory. In fact, to present it in any other way would be a Nuisance to the Reader and an insult to his Consciousness.

But is the term ‘Superficial’ an Insult?

When Man relates beyond the Skin, and beyond “prophesies” of appearances, and brush strokes of “modern” Art, – he is electing to leapfrog his rudimentary and standard functions, if only by beginning to not take those “mere” functions for Granted.

Gratitude proves to be a Science to a Man who is capable and powerful enough to be a witness to the relationship he shares with himself. The deeper he enters into his own orifices of his Self-Notion, nothing seems trivial, accidental, or Decadent. That is as much a Fact, as it is a fact, Global Banking has reticulated into utter Fraudulence, and Religion has dealt more degradation, damage, and ruin on Man ( Including the “Religion of Freethinkers” ) – than the Silent and Observable Natural and Quantum Forces as are easily afforded to those that Listen Better and more Wholly than they Speak. Not an Easy Task.

Is the experience of Ease then related to the differentiation of the Superficial and the Profound?

It is Not Easy to Unite with One’s own Self. Yet, it is not Difficult to Desire It when clearly, it is an experience capable of unconditionally impressing on the Spirit/Substance of Man, rather than Skin, - the irrevocable function of his Eternal Form – the very ‘Idea of Man’ being that form – inseparable from what He Is at the paramount moment. Therein, no Decay, but a Great, unsullied, and transcendental propensity is discoverable, notable, and construable – and the Author would hypothesize, can even be granted Construction in the ‘Grand Scheme of Things’.

How then are Ease and Difficulty Differentiated, if they are both expressions of the Mind?

The Superficial Man – One who dwells on the Skin, however, blames. In Christian allegory, he is like the Character Job : Given to him are purely arbitrary passions of an argument – and each passion, its own Principle, and its own Will. If he should dwell on the Skin, he finds blemishes, sores, holes – the whole tapestry of physical pain and afflictions are transcribed on his premises.  This is what he draws out and regards as the “Whole Past” – never mind, that had he not the surface of skin, as he has in Time the assistance of the surface of that Tool ‘Memory’, which alone empowers the Seeker to ask whichsoever inquiry that bodes and bears in his curiosity;  how come would he have Gained the Profound Opportunity of Criticism?

The Superficial Man continues to confuse Means with Ends at no great advantage! Regarding “The Flaws of Histories”, – Castigating and dispatching his dubious “Venom” to the Seeds of Past, ‘As If’ it Still Applies, he empowers that which he criticizes- namely his own Actual Decay/Decadence, – failing to apprehend with either his Soul or his Intellect – that the premises of ‘Past’, ‘Present’ and ‘Future’ are cursory habits of Consciousness – nuanced particles of Man’s own Capacity to Be, or to Become.

The Man who freely Wills a Vision, regardless of mere habits and costumes, while liberally interpreting the Useful aspects Truthfully from the ‘Past’, gives notable credence to a Present and Gratitude to those that strived afore him, and enters into his own futurized Vehicle and transmits himself therein through the Same. Indeed, Time as a function of the Conscious Mind is it not – much like Skin – a Vehicle? A ‘Foe-Friend’ – in the sense, it may appear a combustible vehicle, requiring maintenance, attention, — A Source of Energy, ultimately, that could be termed But the ‘Soul’ or to those of the least metaphysical “bent” – the ‘Prime Substance’. The Question of Existence rests on that Will – that Energetic Animus that supplies the Q     uest. To ameliorate the conditions within one’s own Person and the conditions and circumstances of all others go hand in hand, undistinguished, for one’s own Person Chooses It. And to enliven the Quest, one must summon Will and Vivacity – as Such.

Difficulty is the highest Ease, and the Highest Ease is always Difficult!

( Therein ) The Profound Man – One who dwells on Substance, and shuns hypocrisy and vagaries of illogic, un-reason, and tiresome ineptitude, and even avoids the accumulated lives of the illogic, un-reason, ineptitudes, torpitudes of others more Superificial than He, — Avoids all principles that detract from Candidness, and Dwells on the conditions and Premises of his highest Substantive Self – and in this regard, initiating himself through his 1) Mind – Reason  2 ) Body – Passions    3 ) Soul – Prime Substance , such that the Unity created by the Three are Greater than even the Whole. And in that there is contained – the Grammar – the Principle – the Mysteries of Man.

In the Year Two Thousand and Nine, as pronounced by the Christian Logbook and interpretation of Time, – it appears, there is a great deal of chaos, suffrage, blame, and anger arising out of Man. Everyone is at Blame, but not He. Every Foreign Element to his Consciousness is depraved and not He. The Justice is Unjust, but he presumes he is himself Just in stating that Concept.

But the Angry Man, the Chaotic, and the Irascible. Who is that Man? Is he a Superficial Man? Or is he Man Profound? Moreover, if he is a Superficial Man, will he learn Gratitude, so that his depth may increase towards himself, and so that he comes closer in proximity to the Man Profound? And per the Man Profound, in reaching the higher orifices of his awareness – Will he find it Satisfactory to be overwhelmed by the deplorable “Noise” – the noisy and pitiful vagaries of the Superficial Man, whom he cannot escape within or outside himself, so long as the Man Profound is Obliged to admit to his Humanity, which he Must at all times, unless he departs from its premise, – What of him? Perhaps, it is Love?

Is there an allegorical inflection that is perceptible? ‘Lion and Sheep drinking from the same Pond’ is a beautiful phrase – one that easily comes to the author’s mind when he raises up his eyes to the stars, probing for nebulous Relevance to Clarify itself. Is that not which some call ‘Kingdom of Heaven on Earth’ — That is a Space of such Profound Mutual Understanding and Investment, that it mutually assures Evolution, rather than “Cold War like Mutually Assured Destruction”?

An Investment that leaves both parties Wealthier than they were before and Conscious of the Fact, – if they prove Inevitable in their Reason, their Passions guided by Substance, and their Substance guided by the Whole than is greater than the Sum of the Parts?

The Whole may just be what is contained in the word ‘Love’.

“Amor Omnia Vincit”- as a Spanish friend of mine has been invoking of late with a Steady frequency. Meaning, ‘Love Conquers All’.

Going beyond Superficialities, and giving a Living Flame to Profundity, will be tantamount to transcribe the Equinoxes and Solstices of what is meant by that one word.

Love.

. . .

Alexander K. Rai, MSMA is the author of ‘Reader’s Indigest’. He ( personally ) believes in 2009, the most important aspect of existence is to readily admit one’s Humanity, so long as one is complicit in the Human Nature . Adding moreover that, while it is ‘Human to Err’, to ‘Err Honestly, is to find Truth’. Believing in his own Humanity, while at the same time, regarding the Whole that is more than the Collection of Parts, as the premise of what some may call the basis of his “Personal Faith”, he is giddy, that at any given time he is impersonating Only Himself, and all that is done by  his Humanity, is easily Surpassed by the volition of the Same, and what is prevented, is prevented by the same. The Author asides from being a ‘Real Person’  may in that vein, be also for the disinterested Reader, be a purely ‘Symbolic Speculation’, and shall not be disserved from the profit of Gainful Readership, whatsoever. The Author, therein, as Stated, does not take Credit for either Comprehension or Incomprehension of any of his Creative Works, offered in Honor of him Self and Despite Himself, freely to all that may elect to invest their ‘Time’ – and thereby moisten a bit of their Skin, in the Author’s peculiar unsolicited brand of mental – perhaps – also Spiritual – moisturizer.  The Photography Displayed in this Journal are not the Author’s, but rather transcriptions of images of Vintage Books, whose creative attributions are too many, too vague, or both – To List.

“Ad realibus, ad Realiora.”

. . .

“The Phenomena” once more inspired me. This time, to ‘mint’ a new word : REALITARIANISM .

I am afraid it’s a bit of a doctrine. But it’s a doctrine that is a de facto. No one person can claim to either believe or disbelieve this doctrine. The whole world insists on being complicit in that one doctrine. No one seeks to extend themselves Truly above it, no one, if extended a branch would truly climb out. Few choose to go higher, which helps only them that Do, and that’s just Wonderful. The others – observing the Act, – will then profit from it in the only way Realitarianism would afford them. By unscrupulous imitation, or the more honest-dishonest trade : Salesmanship of the Act, at which point Realitarianism engenders itself as a full fledged carnival-magnus!

If you ( The Reader ) are unmarried — young or old —  I wonder what keeps you unextended. What keeps you attached. The Branch is there for you, is it not? If Music ( Be You a Musing Soul ) is your Truth, then why not pursue Becoming Music? Is it perhaps a matter of Pace? A matter of Solidarity with the Moment as you have regulated it for your Self ? Surely, you must care very little about your profession, beyond that for you it is a Tool. I used to ( and still do ) find all modern tools to be a measure of desecration, knowing only those tools that are borne by a Sincere heart, that are seen in invisible Craftsrooms of sacralized Solicitude, that lie in the simplistic rudiments of the Soil, testimony to a higher Spirit than what they materialize As.

That is what compelled my ( social )  entrepreneurship. The ember-rudiments and open embryonism of my youthful and perfunctory designs.

Though how my heart grew embroiled in my entrepreneurship, is the mystery of my own identity. Oh well. Now, i am minting new old words. This is what inspired me : ‘Ad realibus ad realiora’ .

Have a Good Day, Now!

. . .

Alexander K. Rai, MSMA is an impassioned, Youthful Social Entrepreneur. When in High School, in a Course of Ethics and Government, he perturbed everyone in the room by stating, “Truth Is God”. Since then, unrecovered from that sentiment, he idly languishes in various Indigests, feasting on the Light of the Sun, frolicking along, Simpleminded, and generally, Serene. Otherwise undisturbed, he seeks to buy rice and grapefruit juice for his bowels, with Euro coins and Norwegian Kroners, believing “Doing Is the Change We Can Believe In!”

A Jocunde appropriatory Musickal Accompaniment : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjA3wcv0nP4

A Human Requiem .

. . .

Somebody said that I am the last American living the tragedy of Europe. Ezra Pound

She saw too that man has the power of exceeding himself, of becoming himself more entirely and profoundly than he is, truths which have only recently begun to be seen in Europe and seem even now too great for its common intelligence. Sri Aurobindo

The verbal interpretation, on the other hand, i.e. the metaphysics of quantum physics, is on far less solid ground. In fact, in more than forty years physicists have not been able to provide a clear metaphysical model. Erwin Schrodinger

The Day It Rained Facts .

The Great and Unadulterated Adults of the Space Age were all Silent. Stirring vodka with sixty nine inch nails in tea pots fire breathing dragons had fashioned from the eras of the Stone Ages from the primeval clay, drained by primpy paws of cosmic goo-encrusted nails. They – the Vene-rabbles contemplated the Sage things of Ancient and Accepted Pro-mythian Tymes, reminiscing on things they each had indeed forgotten to the credit of their busying, stormy, and noise-breathing Facta-Cities of which they had concocted at least a number of Thirteen on the laps of the Earthe. The Great and Unadulterated Ones were all Silent, for they had lost their appetites altogether. It was a Day whence rained downe Facts!

“What to Do!  What to Do!” Said They. Yet, as with all things the Venerabble would deign to Saye, there was no possible answer, none would dare speak, none could dare to reciprocate, nor could anyone hush or hiss, for the matters to be Made always were sealed with monikered Kisse, and things said and unsaid always took the way of rhetoricke, heroicke.

The Hall of Heroes : The Great Ones, sat around, seemingly listless. The facts would not stop raining, yet none could say a word. “Hush Boy! We of the Venerabbles are Of the Dignity of Rhetoricke!”. A litt-uh-l one started singing then, whence the one wearing the biggest hat, tossed into the bowels of emptiness a porcine piece of rhetoricke : “Come Boy! Singe me a Songe!”

The Boy Sung, ashen faced, as facts all of them Rainede. And he saide only these refrains :

“ Violets are Barney, Rivulets are Blue, blood is true, yet facts do brew. Brewing facts, O Pot, Sweet Sage Pot, Know Nothing, Know not, and Know it all, Life passes by like a pony’s tail, Death transmutes vain into a whittled flail, and the Immortal Soul, Innocence and Germane, what would it ever know of venerabble fame! For it is raining facts, my Liege, and dames are ashamed. Up their skirts, there is a Spider’s Coven. Yet perched above the raining facts, there is that eternal refrain, the world of Spirite have never schooled in vain, the vain, the vain, the glories of the vain, for you venerabble liege, I herein refrain. ”

The fairest of grays then delivered a venerabble hiccup, and what in its interpretation was contained, became the future fates of the many worlds, middle, low, and asgard.

. . .

Alexander K. Rai is a lyrical Social Entrepreneur, Independent Scholar, Commentator, and Mystic. He believes that symbolic interpretation of events and facts and their swifter appreciation and imbibance oft overrules the literal approach so many take as their principal methods in pursuing Understanding of the applicable Universal Truths, yet in such pursuit understanding is far too often denied and deterred if the symbolic substance does not inspire naturally and autonomously – and “speak to” what the reader already at a deeper and more granular level knows.

The author believes we are entering into an era, when the collective experiences and genuine truths and revelations of the histories have grown such in their volume, that their overarching mass, will be Raining Down as facts, that none can deny or decry, yet each can within their powers of influence, cast a vote as sensibly as possible to redeem the dogmatic ideations of the histories, and vote by their whole life force, in whither direction the human race may be going : in an era of Ethics, Co-Creative Potentiality, and entry into the Quantum Universes, or an irreversible plunge into an abyss formed by the deluge of facts themselves — as they rain down upon the unheeding, callous, and conniving masses of capable men.

. . . .

” All that we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. ” J.R.R. Tolkien ( 1892-1973 ), The Lord of the Rings : The Fellowship of the Ring

Also Purvey these to most optimally imbibe this Symbolic Narrative :

1.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tknGg6pi4A

2.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4kwSaJEVGg

3.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69F7GhASOdM

4.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vFqbTP-BqUw

5.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8IozVfph7I

6.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cgz5BELaYW0

7.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxoo0e6p2bI

. . . . .

The Autocrat Who Survived the Revolution and Improved It.

He enters sagely through the sliding double doors gracefully, luminous in the Red Tunic of the Cultural Usher. Entering ‘The Kimmel Center of Performing Arts’, home to the ‘Philadelphia Orchestra’, Lloyd Collins ( 74 ) challenges the idée-fixe of the “modern cultural archetype” in a way D’Artagnan from The Three Musketeers would have ‘challenged’ the theologue tyrants of Medieval France : Like a Nobleman belonging to the very last Legion of Honor, conducting himself with an irrevocable and perennial Sense of Duty that Performs in the broad luminosity of the Common Purview. Sire Lloyd Collins More enduring in Principle than even those mavericks of the City of Brotherly Love who dueled with Destiny and the Fate of Nations in bringing about the advent of ‘Something’ downright Cinematic in production by all contemporary Western accounts of Valor in 1776; Lloyd Collins, a Man compelled by robust inner proportions of ‘Transcendental Duty’, whose doting canine beneficiary is called ‘Om Shanti’ ( After the Vedic Invocation ‘Let Peace Permeate’ ) religiously protracts the sum of his day’s labors nocturnally after his ‘Four-Five Hour Stint’ as a Transformational, Sweeping, Cultural Emissary at ‘The Kimmel’ is “over” for the Day by taking ‘Om Shanti’ for a ‘Peace of Mind’ walk. Such is Devotion. Mr. Collins’ ‘Spirit of Peace’ is revolutionary in times of underscored Cultural Lassisitude, Moral Dereliction. Strife, Hype, and Turmoil – and Mercantile Collapse.

He embodies Poise in the Tradition of ‘The City Upon a Hill’, though upon a Quick Survey his odds seem Dystopian against the incessant undercurrents and general “noise” of his times. The Great Steward of Ethics and Service weathers the Storm, brow-lifting, instead of Brow-beating, the adversarial menaces to High Culture in the Heart and Center of Philadelphia City – by All Means and Modes – A Sublime and Classical City with a Destiny ( Still ) . An unnamed ‘Visitor’ on the third floor for example ‘Swoons Over’, almost collapsing ‘Over and Out’ the parapets of the Steep and Spectacular detail of the perpetual Anachronism that Kimmel Center offers to the under-instructed ‘Tourist’ with its mix of European and International Classical Sophistication by the way of Philharmonic feasts and forays, and Airport Terminal like ‘Vault’ and a ‘Hanging Garden of Babylon’ like “box” floating within its etherspace – presiding as a ‘Jurisdiction of Modern Authority’ over that which carries the impartial and self-fulfilled un-commandeerable Cultural Sceptre of the ages.

The Swooning Tourist: Her name could have been Sue, though the author assures that it was not. What the author does confirm, is “Sue’s” diet, which was easy to infer when before the spontaneous witness-ship of the Author and a gaggle of a dozen other bypassers at ‘The Kimmel’ she ‘Gushed’ like a Robin Bird her dietary proclamations. “I had this big Italian meal, with a lot of meat balls you know . . . my digestion never works in the evening! And, Oh! The Music! The Music! ”. Muttering semi-ruefully her isolated, Kafkaesque lines of culinary indictment, she is seen safely held and ‘tucked in’ by the gentle grip and poise of a Pacific Stalwart and Soothe – Lloyd Collins – President of the Union of Workers at ‘The Kimmel’, who with the utmost sophistication of a considerate Soul, invoking the very Cosmic Essence of ‘Om Shanti’ by his calming cadence, refreshing in the visitor the rare and otherwise impossible ‘embrace’ of the exemplified Age Old, Agrarian, Classical American, ‘Autocrat of the Breakfast Table’ tradition and Quintessence, offers in every vignette of ‘Interaction’ the Chronicle of the Timeless Moments.

The entire City represents itself at that very moment in the immemorial, spectacular emissaryship of a Man whose appeal is that of a transposed Spiritual William Penn, whose moral candor and philosophical vehemence downright Jeffersonian. Whose Non-Partisan ‘Free Man of Honor’ and ‘Gentleman of Americas’ Integrity is a Placid and Immovable ‘Whole’ within all the parts and ramparts of spheres of his sage temple ‘The Kimmel’ in which he is almost a Priestly ‘Brahmin’ Presence. Yet ‘Despite’ this seeming loftiness of demeanor, Lloyd Collins is one, whose ‘Rescue Missions’ crenellate and advance every bit, the Ideals of a ‘Few Good Men’, ‘Camelot’, and ‘Stewardship’ as much as it does of ‘Punctuality’, ‘Service’, ‘Tradition’, ‘Legitimate and Affirmed Archetype’, and ‘Essence’ – within the anachronistic cathedrals of the soaring ‘Kimmel Center’, whose unseen Valkyries prowl most likely in dark places, “behind the scenes” and ‘haunt’ the gustatory stoops and visceral maladies of the proverbial passerby. yrhuewf The Hungarian Professor of Architecture from the University of Pennsylvania visiting His Holiness Dalai Lama of Tibet in the previous summer gazed with a great and proportioned admiration towards Mr. Collins. It was easy to see ‘Why’, and the ‘How’ followed promptly, uninterrupted by the “Noise” of the throngs. Thanking him with the premium expressions of Gratitude, he ( The Professor) solicited a scribble. “Please – Provide me with an email address – or a contact point. I should like to write a letter to the Performance Center for sponsoring your existence. Such a Civilized presence! What a focused demeanor! I must Thank the Performance Center in correspondence.

Lloyd Collins accepted the accolade gracefully from the aristocratic patron of ‘The Kimmel’ simply nodding his acceptance with a small smile, and offering that he visit the Web Site and approach the appropriate and ‘more informed’ personalities. Art for the Sake of Art. If only James Joyce had visited ‘The Kimmel’. Or rather, Mr. Lloyd Collins of the Fraternal City. The Author too was ostensibly ‘touched’, in the same way thousands are monthly by this ‘Force of Demeanor’, this ‘Marvel of Gentlemanliness’, this ‘Congruent Spectacle’ to all others doled out on a Pay-Per-View basis within the Symphonic Bastions. So he did not hesitate, nor could he permit himself to be bashful to Inquire further ( The Author ).

In a Conversation with the Jeffersonian Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, – decked in his Red Tunic, and his Signature Bow-Tie, Lloyd Collins confided in a rare and intimate moment of Self-Reflection: “ . . . I work here for the People. For the Possibilities. To watch out for the little guy. For the Tradition of it All. Above all, I work here to pay homage to ‘The Music’.” His face: aquiline, indented, ever musing, and perpetual, – gave credence to the existence of an ‘Inner Sun’ lighting up the heavy-lifting of the undertaking of any man. It was for this reason and more – easy indeed to infer the ‘Music’ he was referring to, while very much “the Type” ( of Music ) generated and syndicated by the Good Services of the ‘Center of Performing Arts’, his was a Music in nature a Celestial sort, of a higher, lavender, rarefied pedigree – that could not be bought for any price at all. A Greater and more Silent Proclamation of Freedom had not Culturally graced the concrete pavilions of the Fraternal City in almost a Century – if not ( Certainly ) more. It was the Music of Decencies. Of a Deed Well Done. Of Grace Uplifted. Contemplations of a Better Future. It was Responsibility. My Candor Knew No Bound . . . My candor knew no bound. Impatient as ever, I advanced the Query imperiously, ‘In these times then Sir – How do you Propose to Change the Odds? Surely none express it So Well, none embody the Spirit of the Matter, all seem agog in the muddled powerpoints of Legal this and HR that. How do you perceive yourself Hopeful, what is the Science Sir for a well aged Man of your Purport, and mine, and the Nation’s?”. Lloyd Collins lifted his stare higher, his eyes clearly nostalgic, his mien tinctured with an inner vinegar upon the proverbial ‘Block of Soy’ I offered. His thoughts manicured upon the overgrown shrubs of inner descriptions. At that moment Philadelphia witnessed through my Eyes – that of a Constitutional American – a Rebirth of the Classical Diplomat. Bubbles of ‘Goosebumps’ lined my Olive Skin.

Mr. Collins proposed mysteriously enough the following. “I will put it Simply before this proposal. Young Man the thought has crossed my mind through the Seasons. And I have proposed it this way. A New Position entirely. One of Consideration, Craftsmanship – Yes, all that – but above all, Service. A Commitment to Service. The Highest Art. The Highest Production. The Position I propose is that of a ‘Director of First Impressions’.” ( Lloyd Collins ). Director of First Impressions. How True and Resonant for the Times. For in all the Book of ‘Firsts’, esp. in the Book of First Precedents, with Sustainability taking the Center, ‘The Bar’ being raised, the very Luminosity of the perennial traditions now more needed than evermore, a Director of First Impressions plucked from the talcum Bosom of another Age, whose Spirit is rare, yet much needed. IMG_1523 Whose whiff foregone, with dolorous aftersense lingering in the best of Minds. Whose fortunate flavor permeates yet in the Bastions of a Modern Cultural Cathedral of International Repute. From the core expressions of ‘Moments’ of Mr. Lloyd Collins, American Gentleman, Philadelphian, who retains his correspondence at Berwyn, Main Line, lives simply and with grace, a Man loyal to his Dog, married for thirty years to Dignity herself – Vickie Collins ( who in turn happens to be a Librarian at the Washington D.C. Library Congress ) he remains, at your Service, what more, an Eagle Scout of the ‘Order of the Arrow’, and a trained Fencer, well traveled through the Nations. He is the America that the World must Believe In. For While, paved concrete roads and privatized infrastructure contracts may or may not be the Change We Can Believe In, the Wise and the Visionary, would rather place their Faith in those Changeless and Effervescent Traditions : Those of Ethical Standards and the Decencies of the Ages. As if embroidered with Light As Love, this is the Philadelphia that yet remains, above the plentiful sullies of modern rapprochements. TorchesAndCandles Lloyd Collins is one of the Presidents of the Workers Unions at The Kimmel Center for Performing Arts. He humbly donates his time in the token position of ‘The Usher’. Though in Spirit – and hopefully one day more sensible than the last day or this day, – he shall remain to doting passerbies at ‘The Kimmel’ – without those words, the Implicit ‘Director of First Impressions’, if not also, the ‘Director of Lasting Impressions’.

- # # # -

ALEXANDER K. RAI – Also Provided the Photography Contained within this Brief. In 2009, he was Nominated as a Marquis ‘Who’s Who in America’ and further Nominated for ‘Who’s Who in America In Business/Finance’. A Resident of the Philadelphia Fraternal City, he travels Widely and is Presently ‘Chronicling’ the Forecasts of a ‘New Europe’. He Reports on an Inter-Disciplinary Purview and ‘Sweep’ of Topics on Behalf of Open SALON Gazette.