Poeiana-Bankruptcy/Boston Bust/Nevermore Off Broadway/Reanimator/Authors Houses


My thanks and appreciation to Herb Moskowitz for this information, which I have re-posted to my WordPress Blog on George Lippard’s “Quaker City” blog. George Lippard was one of many Philadelphia authors and writers. George Lippard also raised money to give to Edgar A. Poe. Poe wrote a letter praising Lippards writing, and Lippard later printed the letter as if it were an endorsement of his writing style, which it obviously wasn’t. Poe unfortunately never learned how to manage his addiction to Alcohol and died suddenly in Baltimore as a result of Delirium. (Though many fans of Poe’s refuse to accept the obvious Alcoholism as a contributing cause of his death, they are so devoted, they would prefer to ‘deny’ that reality. A shame really!

Kind regards,
Ricardo Ben-Safed

The Vault
Historical Treasures, Oddities, And Delights
Nov. 3 2014 3:24 PM

A Melancholy List of Edgar Allan Poe’s Debts,
From His Bankruptcy Petition of 1842

The Vault is Slate‘s history blog.
http://www.slate.com/blogs/the_vault/2014/11/03/edgar_allan_poe_biography_his_bankruptcy_petition_from_1842.html

Edgar Allan Poe filed for bankruptcy in the Eastern District of Pennsylvania in December 1842, appending this list of creditors and debts to his petition. The writer, who supported a sick wife and a mother-in-law and lacked the backstop of family money, was constantly scraping for sufficient funds. This list shows just how extensive his array of debts was in the early 1840s.

Poe filed for bankruptcy under the short-lived federal Bankruptcy Act of 1841, which was meant to alleviate the financial strain of the Panic of 1837. The 1841 act opened the door to voluntary petitions of bankruptcy, and many Americans (both individuals and merchants) took advantage of it. Thirty-three thousand cases were filed under its auspices before it was repealed.

The Panic of 1837, instigated by a real estate bubble and worsened by instability in banking, affected Poe because the resulting climate caused many magazines to shut down. At the time, Poe was trying to support himself and his family as a writer, and commissions and positions were hard to come by.

Poe owed money to doctors for “medical attendance,” to any number of businesses for “book debt” (a standard term meaning “money owed a business for its goods or services”), to a music teacher, and to many individuals who had lent him money over the years. The creditors’ addresses are in Philadelphia, Richmond, and New York, reflecting the writer’s residencies over the past decade.

Poe’s petition was granted in January 1843.

I first spotted this document on the National Archives’ Today’s Document Tumblr, where you can see the rest of Poe’s petition.

Click on the image below to reach a zoomable version.

PoeDebts

National Archives and Records Administration, Philadelphia.

Rebecca Onion, who runs Slate’s history blog The Vault, is a writer and academic living in Ohio. Follow her on Twitter.

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AN EVENING OF EDGAR ALLAN POE – Free Library of Philadelphia


Thanks Herb for forwarding this:

At Phila Free Library…an evening of Edgar A. Poe…

logo Ric Ben-Safed

rdb1938

pixel.png?dont_count=1&e=promo_45 Get a signature like this: Click here!
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On Monday, October 20, 2014 1:20 PM, Herb Moskovitz <herbphilly@aol.com> wrote:

AN EVENING OF EDGAR ALLAN POE

Information and Free Registration, Click here…

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/an-evening-of-edgar-allan-poe-tickets-12836376949?invite=&err=29&referrer=&discount=&affiliate=&eventpassword=

Free Library of Philadelphia, Parkway Central, Room 108
1901 Vine St
Philadelphia, PA 19103

Thursday, October 23, 2014 from 6:30 PM to 8:30 PM (PDT)

An Evening of Edgar Allan Poe features dramatic recitations from memory of some of Edgar Allan Poe’s most well-known and loved works. The recitations are framed in the context of the author’s life, interspersed with readings from newspapers, letters, and observations of Poe’s contemporaries.

About the Presenter:
Anne Louise Williams is a historic interpreter certified with the National Association of Interpreters. Anne integrates her passion for history, literature and drama to perform literature in the context of the author’s life. She has portrayed Virginia Minor, recreating her testimony on suffrage before the U.S. Senate Committee. In 2011, Anne participated in a re-enactment of the testimonies in the infamous Lemp Divorce at the Old Court House in St. Louis, where the trial occurred in 1909. Anne will be performing at several other venues this fall, including the Poe Museum in Richmond, VA, the Poe Visitor Center in Fordham (Bronx), the Lyndhurst Castle in Tarrytown, NY, the Daniel Boone Home in Defiance, MO, and the Lemp Mansion in St. Louis, MO.

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George Lippard would have approved of this ‘notice’!


 

———- Forwarded message ———-
From: Jeffrey A. Savoye
Date: Sat, Oct 11, 2014 at 2:32 PM
Subject: Death of Joseph V. Ridgely
To:

I regret to announce the death of Joseph V. Ridgely, at Holy Cross Hospital in Silver Spring, MD. He had long lived in Roland Park, in Baltimore, but moved to Aspenwood Senior Living in Silver Spring in 2010. In 1997, he co-edited, with Burton R. Pollin, the volume of The Collected Writings of Edgar Allan Poe devoted to the non-fictional prose in the Southern Literary Messenger. He taught at Columbia University, commuting from and back to Baltimore by train, until his retirement in 1989. He was 93. (He was predeceased by his wife, who passed in 1986.)

Jeffrey A. Savoye
The Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore
http://www.eapoe.org

‎”Every man has a property in his own person: this no body has any right to but himself. The labour of his body, and the work of his hands, we may say, are properly his.” – John Locke

 

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God, Stephen Hawking and M Theory


God, Stephen Hawking and M Theory

I speak my brain on Channel 4 News about the booksellers’ current favourite controversy – Stephen Hawking versus God –Ted

Yesterday, when I should have been writing a paper about data from the Atlas detector at Cern’s Large Hadron Collider, I was taxied across Geneva to talk live on television to Jon Snow about Stephen Hawking‘s apparent sudden conversion to atheism.

 

http://www.theguardian.com/science/life-and-physics/2010/sep/03/god-stephen-hawking-m-theory

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The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz.


Photo

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Comparative_Theology Discussion with an atheist and a theologian


My thanks to Lake_Nemi for providing this observations. Stephen Hawkin has appeared on the American TV comedy show: “The Big Bang Theory”…so it is not too unusual for him to show his eccentricity as he is seemingly doing with Hawkins.

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EXCLUSIVE: Crime Down In City Of Brotherly Love


Good news indeed! I also belong to PDAC as a rep from my Co-Op.

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Another Reality Within, (short story)


“Another Reality Within”

by Ricardo Ben-Safed

“WAIT A SECOND!“, a Surgical Intern near the table yelled at another

employee, they were busy in the ER at Kelpius Heart Centre.

“No, The speed of the blood flow is all wrong, and the temperature is too hot. We’re going to boil his brains!”

He shot another glance at the monitor, it flashed back beeping and flashing. A neon light pulsed ominously and blipped a sudden flat line on the monitor. I am the patient, and now (calmly) I am dead. Apparently! Well I was at least technically dead. (I cannot move or get up.)

The irony, I knew, is that this process of dying is a slow process..but doesn’t stop ebbing away until the brain’s electric waves discharge completely becoming weaker and weaker until they stop. I saw the monitor flashing light — “January 12th”. Huh, I’m dying on my birthday?"

The problem of the circuit failure was in HAL’s printed read out indicating a “corrupted text”. The question was the blood temp 99.0 or 80.9 degrees. The light alternating flashing one then the other on the monitor. What was the actual temperature? Did anyone know? I am the patient and I am strangely not feeling anxious or too worried. Are my brains already boiled from the too hot blood? A creeping ominous, moisture was spreading, running, slowly over my body. My nostrils detected a pungent smell. (I hate B.O! )I didn’t know what to make of the smell. Perhaps I WAS already dead and was in putrid decaying.

Looking up I saw a misty shadow, black and grey. Then a loud voice spoke and a flood of random thoughts were drown in my mind. More thoughts, sights, sounds emerged from the dark shadows flooding my mind, and I knew something was very Strange and true. I was not myself, I was different. I just knew it instinctively.

These shadow thoughts grew into a shape or presence like a big bird in my mind. I couldn’t breathe. Maybe I didn’t want to breathe. A different shadow presence moved across my eyes and mind. I am occupied. Now I must re-start my heart and make it beat again. (But I can’t!) The monitor indicated a flat glowing line running across the screen.

The heart was silent and unmoved. So yes, I am dead! I no longer doubt it. Suddenly the monitor flashed a temperature and pressure. It read level at 75.1 degrees. (I was cold!) A chill was rapidly spreading over my body as my core temperature dropped further.

A warm hand began caressing my fingers, touching my hands, rubbing my arms, feet, legs and even my private thigh parts. Hands manipulating my body and visions, images, lighted up in some area of my brain. What. What is happening to me? I don’t know. Warmness spread to my face, I smiled and wondered if my cheeks were glowing.

Then a sudden kind of spasm of energy flowed through me and

over all my body, electrifying me and my nerve cells: –( I orgasm-ed I think!) My limbs twitched involuntarily.

I accepted my status among the newly dead. My heart’s slow beating rhythm had increased and then rapidly collapsed to nothing. Another flat line ran across the screen of the monitor. I had my last heart beat. Some throbbing decreased slowly to small pulses and twitches. I am certainly dead. Yet I experienced a dark cloudy vision in my mind. I heard sounds reverberate and echo in the halls of an abandoned, empty cold storage room. Where did everyone go? Where was I?

I think ‘I am ‘the’ shadow or “cloud” in my mind and quietly peer out from the eye sockets to see the outside world. In another room a surgeon was washing up for delicate protocol operation. So were other Anaesthesiologists technicians preparing for an operation. The Heart/Lung mechanical apparatus was already in a “ready status”.

Then I saw a body on a stretcher (me!), I am being wheeled down the hall into a white sheeted sterilized room. I knew what they were going to do to that body, and they would cut deep into my chest and rib bones, and then into the heart itself: ripping open the heart to cut the Aortic valve out, sew in a new animal one, from a pig, and strip veins from the sides of my legs to restitch them as a bypass around my heart.

I heard The Team (or the mind-shadow) talking that this operation would be completed within 4 or 6 hours. I tried to look at my watch, but couldn’t locate my arm. Shortly after that I heard a whirr sound, and the blades sliced into the flesh of my chest, cutting through the chest bones and the rib cage, forcing them apart. The Surgeon moved quickly, his steady hand, with an eye glancing at the monitors, took a

cut, fumbling a bit with his favorite silver plated knife into my body. I just lay there quiet-like a sacrificial animal on an altar. I saw the knife descend into my body.

In an alarmist mode: I felt a sharp chill-like wave sweep over my whole nude body. And something was leaving me, what?, blood, or my consciousness? Soon the carotid artery was breached open with a gaping and bloody hole, a large catheter was clamped onto my neck. Meanwhile the heart machine pumped my body dry and emptied it of its five quarts of oxygenated blood.

The heart and lungs were stilled at last. And I am dead and dry and empty. Are brain cells dying for lack of oxygenated blood?

The nutritious blood is pooling in a container and is being chemically thinned and watered down as it was drained from the body. I am now preserved like a dead sweet pickle. I watched the blood draining, and being sucked and pumped out of me.

Strangely, I feel abandoned. The blood was quickly snaking its way down inside the plastic tubes and disappearing somewhere into a plastic bottle attached to the HAL machine. HAL is more alive than I am. Anxiety and fear are rising in me again.

I am now aware I just invented these thoughts in my mind. HAL is delivering my life force in liquid form and swallowing me into itself. I suddenly remember that computer monster was created by HAL; (Heuristically programmed ALgorithmic Computer) and was first energized on January 12th). HAL and I are ONE, born on the

same day. Are we twin monsters? HAL initiated a voice in an emotionless monotone, that crackled through the

speaker in the operating room: “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men…THE SHADOW KNOWS.” The Shadow knows which aortic valve is defective. The darkness morphs and I see a man with a sparkling electric body looking into a book and I hear him chanting or singing something, I can’t seem to properly locate him, or myself’, or in the room or on the operating table either.

“Okay, temp up to 93 degrees, pressure and lung expansion and contraction of lungs all regular and normal now” said another Techie or HAL I felt nothing.

Nothing moved in my body. I was still a defenseless cold naked body on a white but bloody cushion.

Two sets of hands slid down both of my feet, legs and thighs, rubbing and massaging me. “Oh,…that feels nice someone whispered in my mind. A wave of emotions and feelings flooded me.

My eyelids were closed, yet were translucent as I could see through them. But no one ever looked into my eyes, they just kept staring away, at my body. I felt naked.

I tried talking or singing something, I wallowed down something hard, my throat stung. Wandering spinning around in my mind and also around the physical room, I saw everything that was going on. But there was a flurry of movement, motion, and voices. It’s hard to make sense of it all. I tried to focus but could not control my mind or even think any logical thoughts. My thoughts seemed to take on an alternate reality but from within my mind and body. I recoiled as I glanced at the bloody body again.

The time was yesterday and I was walking down the streets breathing hard unable to breathe normally. “Or, am I flying? No… I am just walking too fast now.”

I began to feel dizzy even swimming in my mind and a looming darkness that I instinctively dreaded. The attention of everyone was now focused on the naked bloody body/person laying on the white, red streaked sheets.

“Oh right. I could really use my hearing aids now, and they are lying on the tray on the left side of the empty bed…See them? “Yes I do.” And there is my ring with the engraved script “I am my beloved, and my beloved is mine” The room is three floors and a 100 yards away. I am so confused.

Feeling colder. a sudden hot electric flash ran through me, and tickled my nerve endings in my arms and legs. Similar to when I dove into the Ocean at the “Naturists beach” at the seashore totally nude. I see it now. Brr, I feel the cold water too. (What’s that glowing yellow line on the monitor mean?)

With a salty taste in my mouth. I was surprised to be able to taste the salty taste…from inside my heart. My heart is still not moving or twitching.

Swimming between the waves, and the frothy sea foam, I brush past a dauphin.

“Mother said I had to do a ‘show and tell today.” Am I going to be born, wonder what my first thoughts will be.

” Recording, the Doctor’s voice said:”. “Am turning the heart around to view the aortic valve side, inserting camera into vein, slowly! (Monitor this aside to another aide) Checking Positron 3 D projection….there is the calcified valve. It’s closed completely. Valve is encrusted and opens only 20%. Cutting each of the three flaps of the aortic valve lids and pulling the debris carefully out of the heart and circulation system. “Increase suction with filtering now”, the doctor said while inserting new animal valve, and slowly positioning it carefully, stapling it into place.

Aside to Op Room staff he said: "This will take 20 or 30 minutes more. Some leakage, pour another blood unit into the heart-lung machine."

I seem to fade in and out of consciousness, alternately appearing, then

becoming transparent, or translucent, or something, but I was still able to see though my eye lids. And they are closed. Strange I wasn’t wearing my glasses. I’m thinking now, so I’m still here alive.” All my body parts are so still and quiet! But I am unable to move anything.

The patient looked around at his new reality on the table. Everything was all new and glowing yellow. Befuddled, the patient was unable to use logical thoughts effectively. My brain cells seem connected to my eye lashes and decisions were made in a shift of my eyes. It was too fast and confusing.

A squishing sound on his right carotid vein as a large catheter was inserted and pumping a fluid into his neck. He was dry and drank his own blood hungrily. Mmmmmmm.

He tasted something in the blood, flavored with some kind of spice

or herb, oregano and salt I think. I feel the blood was rushing through my veins, and moving all over my body at the same instant. I am being flooded and soaked with red blood. This is too fast. I am like a giant sponge soaking up blood. I struggled to move a tiny finger to signal for it to stop. But I failed.

Wait, now I am seeing seeing the whole trip to this operating room or

swimming pool raft but I am seeing everything backwards, as if the recording is being played back in reverse like on a VCR. Down the halls, making turns, everybody walking backwards and finally to my room. There’s my bed…but its empty. (Of course.)

“Where am I? And I am not sure of what is happening to me.

HAL filed a coded note in my digital chart. It flatly stated that if the patient could learn all he wanted, by deliberately slow down the movement of time with his mind. Shesh, what do computers know about human thinking or time?

Nevertheless I tried, and discovered that I was unable to manoeuvre my brain cells to do anything. I just invented HAL.

Looking up I dreamed words, “What is the Surgeon doing with that buzz saw on my chest. Ouch! Wow…what a gusher! Many sponges were sopping it up a huge amount of spreading blood…quickly. “Oh, wait….who’s blood is in that bag being put in that machine? The blood began to glow yellow at that second, an exactly matched shade of the blood that was spilling out over my chest and trickling

down my groin wetting my testicles and penis. (I felt an erotic twinge as I thought of the image of where the blood was running, smeared over my body.)

Both streams of blood came together and seemed to sparkle like a sunbeam playing on the leaves, as I walked through the woods near my camp site. The ground was camouflaged and spotted with dancing light beams.

Chilled in my bones as I put on my day robe. My night shirt was too thin and short. Why am I walking about half dressed in a Roman tunic?

Slowly my frozen body, melted and thawed itself alive and warmed up to the room temperature. More time passed…I think.

The Doctor said, “I’m going to remove the ventilator, you may speak if you can, but don’t be alarmed if you can’t.” I couldn’t speak, so I used ASL (American Sign Language) with my fingers. I told him everything with my fingers and hand movements. Strangely, the Surgeon didn’t understand my ASL and continued to adjust something.

“Okay…now try again.”

“I can hear you”, I said loudly.

“Good!” he said smiling, turning to the Male Nurses, “okay, take him to his room.”

I was whisked off, while a dozen people followed.

Sleepy and dazed, somehow contented without much fear, I nodded off. I had survived the operation. I think.

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Quotation from Chairman J. Neil Schulman,


 

 

“I am so sick of political partisans tossing recent history into an Orwellian memory hole to advance their narrow agendas. To attack President Obama’s plans to close the prison at Guantanamo Bay and relocate the prisoners to Supermax prisons on the U.S. mainland, they make the silly argument that “prisoners of war” can’t be held safety on the U.S. mainland. Oh, really? The highest number of prisoners I’ve seen held at Gitmo is 558. According to Wikipedia, “In the United States, at the end of World War II there were 175 Branch Camps serving 511 Area Camps containing over 425,000 prisoners of war. The camps were located all over the US but were mostly in the South because of the expense of heating the barracks. Eventually, every state with the exception of Nevada, North Dakota, and Vermont had POW camps.” Were 425,000 Nazis and Kamikaze Japanese less dangerous than 558 Jihadis? I don’t think so.”

 

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Quotation from Chairman J. Neil Schulman


 

“A Jew goes into a bar in Tel Aviv and orders an alcohol-free beer. An Arab comes up to him and says, “This is a Sunni bar. Are you a Sunni or a Shia?” “I’m a Jew,” he replies. The Arab thinks a moment then says, “Are you a Sunni Jew or a Shia Jew?”

 

 

 

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