BEAUTY
Topic: Raising the Bar
As North Americans we love beauty. We are slaves to our senses and our most dominant one is sight. Beauty has the power to dazzle, to cheer up, to influence. Personal beauty is believed by some to be worth more than moral character, which one cannot judge so quickly. Beauty is right out there, in your face.
When we are young, we are all beautiful, at least to the old. We do not see our beauty, we take it for granted or we think we are ugly. My niece is 5' 10 inches tall with dark blonde hair and sapphire eyes. She is starving herself. She thinks she is fat.
Are all young women anorexic? The statistics say no, but there are too many fasting girls. In times of starvation in distant parts of the world, North American girls think that they are too fat. In an overcrowded world, where catastrophe can come unheralded by modern technology; witness the Tsunami in Asia - we are also one catastrophe away from famine.
Yet North American girls starve themselves, while the population grows ever so much fatter. We are not a nation of gluttons, but we do so much less excercise than 100 years ago - that it is alarming. For us fat is not beautiful. It is ugly, demeaning and something to be ashamed of.
"Suffer for beauty", our mothers said. And we do. We diet, exercise, withold, go hungry, wear uncomfortable binding bras, cinches, elastic underwear and high heels. We dye our hair, wax our legs, get plastic surgery for our noses. Are we happier now?
Probably. We are no longer completely at the mercy of our parent's genetic makeup. The wallflower can now easily change into a rose. She may not have to suffer being labeled as "plain" or "ugly" or even more laughable: "having a good personality".
What is the cost of this? The bar has been raised. It is like being at MIT. Everyone is smart. Now everyone can be beautiful.

LOST
Topic: The Path
Trianon found herself wandering in the woods. She had wandered away from the others. It had happened gradually, not abruptly. Slowly, she had lapsed behind the other hikers. She kept running to keep up, waved when they looked back and looked like she was trying. But the distance between her and the group grew and grew. Now they were colors moving in the distance with dim sounds of talking and laughter.
It was fall and the dusk was coming in earlier. It was now four o'clock and it was also colder. She shivered a bit and pulled her wrap more closely around her. She decided to find a place to camp. She searched for a half an hour and set up camp in a mini cave that was under a huge piece of rock. There was not much difficulty in getting herself comfortable.
Trianon made a fire and warmed up a hike pack of mixed beans followed by a cup of coffee. She had a good appetite and felt well. Her senses were intensified; the coffee, the meal were more pleasurable. The smell of the forest was particularly good. Fall decomposing leaves, fresh air and the astringency of the cold all made the atmosphere clean.
Trianon then cleaned up and stamped out the fire carefully. She hung her backpack up on the nearest tree and retreated to her camp bed. She zipped up her tent and crept into her bed roll. Soon she was asleep.

THE WATERFALL
Topic: FREE FALL


She went through the waterfall to the cavern behind it. It took a while to get her eyes accustomed to the dark. Finally she could see that someone or something was living here; perhaps even now. There was a bed of leaves in one corner, a fire ring in the middle and what looked like a journal lying on a makeshift table. She was intrigued. She had heard of an archaeologist who had disappeared in this area of the forest, but who was not officially dead. Sitings of him kept turning up by natives and other people roaming the area.

She went to the journal and opened it. It had a leather cover and sturdy pages. The first page said "The Archeology of the Ancient Mystics of Ilori " by Aaron Byrne. She quickly looked through it, with one eye at the opening of the cave. She saw diagrams, writing worthy of a medical doctor and then the writing changed, from English to something else. It was a form of hieroglyphics. There were pages and pages of this writing with more and more bizarre drawings. As she looked around the table she noticed little containers made of clay. She opened one and it seemed to contain small round seeds. Another one contained some leaves and a third larger container had root material.

It had been a long day. The cavern seemed inviting. The sound of running water was soothing. She sat down on the edge of the bed. She smelled something sweet, heady and enchanting. Within minutes she had fallen asleep on the bed of leaves.

ISHTAR
Topic: MYTHOLOGY
Ishtar, the Babylonian Queen of Heaven, Goddess of Light and Love has decided she must visit the underworld. The Queen of the Underworld is her elder sister and bitter enemy Ereshkigal; who is the Goddess of Darkness and Death. Fearing her sister and the underworld, Ishtar instructs her loyal messenger Ninshubur - that should she not return in three days - he should go to heaven and cry for her to the Gods.
Having taken all precautions with respect to the Gods, Ishtar descends to the underworld where the chief gatekeeper leads her through the seven gates of the nether world. She loses all that she has, her magnificent clothes, her jewelry, her divine decrees. She is brought naked and on bended knee before Ereshkigal and the seven Anunnaki, the dreaded lords and judges of the underworld. They turn her into a corpse and hang her from a stake.
In this way Ishtar spends three days and nights. On the fourth day, Ninshibur proceeds to make the round of Gods as Ishtar had instructed him. One God Enki devises a plan to help. He fashions two sexless creatures called the kurgarru and the kalaturru and also makes the "food of life" and "the water of life". The "food of life" and the "water of life" is sprinkled on Ishtar's suspended corpse sixty times, whereupon Ishtar revives. She is thus able to get out of the nether world.