Showing posts with label know. Show all posts
Showing posts with label know. Show all posts

16 April 2023

How do you know you are right? (video)

 



ezs note:  I ran across Rev. Ed Trevors and got a breath of fresh air.  Most of what passes off as 'Christianity' is pure crap.  We may not see every line side to side (he is a [real] Christian, I am a Baha'i), but, geez, this guy is good. I'll do my bit to promote him.

By the way, if you're free on Saturday nights, Ed broadcasts live on most Saturday nights at 8 pm (Eastern time).  Look for :

01 February 2019

New York - What New York Employers Should Know Regarding the Rights of Transgender Employees

David W.D. Mitchell, Maria Benvenuto
Lexology


Albany, NY

Credit:  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/53/New_York_State_Capitol_from_Corning_Tower.jpg

please press:  www.lexology.com

ezs note:  Although this is an excellent piece, it is slightly dated.  To read more, please press here.

21 October 2016

4 More Things to Know About Transgender Rights in the Workplace

Marisa Rosen
Jdsupra Business Advisor


Credit:  http://www.transequality.org/sites/default/files/styles/issues_270x170/public/images/issues/131105081113-sutter-enda-story-top_0.jpg?itok=Pgq59Wid

please press:  http://www.jdsupra.com

22 October 2015

Know the facts behind Houston’s HERO fight

Cece Cox
The Dallas Morning News


Credit:  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/86/Dallas_Texas_Skyline_bei_Nacht.jpg


ezs note:  In Houston - and in cities and towns around the country - there are ballot measures around the country.  Don't overlook them!  In Houston, it is being referred to as the HERO measure.  Please vote YES on this measure.  And better yet, bring a friend!

25 April 2015

5 things to know about transgender Americans

Press
Atlanta Daily World

Credit:  https://40.media.tumblr.com/d3811b72296299badd72aebabd860ca4/tumblr_n46sapLos51tpnm6mo1_500.jpg

23 April 2015

'Striking' increase in Americans who know trans people

Press
Windy City Times

Credit:  https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguwNFQBEC2IXG9QdulnDf5XQuskM8zyOPfV35nGQppr0Yf9amHE57PNjPj_pAy9MVW733Vt8UJxdl5dgo4FOErSmvwUT3h8w77HmLl6IFLklHfihrgZieYlsd9bfULM-SDmxzP8IzdAZAE/s1600/Greek+transgender+meeting+with+mayor.PNG

07 March 2015

23 April 2013

poetry #1

Entries such as these have been rare for me since my stroke.  Last week, I picked up a volume entitled "Modern American Poetry". I've really dug the poems, but most especially those of Lyn Hejinian, whose stream-of-consciousness poetics struck a chord for me.  No, not every one will like this.  If stream-of-consciousness really suit your style,well, seek another poet.  But if you like Lyn, I hope you'll like this too.  Enjoy! (PS - feel free to lend your thoughts in the "comments" section.)

(#1)
The soil did not stand; it blew away.  Last night I turned, nuzzled your roughening cheek.  The things I knew, I do not know.  It is time.  I insert the token into the T.  Let the game be Monopoly.  The music is played upon a viola. There is no sound.  The woman from Spain swung her maracas about. Stubby fields bind but do not break.  He cast aside the thronE.  A poem writ large and confusing.  His pubic hair rests between my fingers, gently.  We are comfortable, lying near the dune.  The Appalachian mountains are high, forbidding.  We are alone.  The feet of the tiny dogs go clickclackclickclackclickclack.  My pocketbook was laying about.  A silver earring came off, laying next to me.  How many miles is it to Traherne?  My knees ache and scar from your mounting of me.  The sparrow's wings are so lovely.  Sorry, sir, your money has no value here.  Swords drawn, we fought the wild fauna.  The bartender gave a cup to the tired man.  The name others gave me is not the name I gave to myself.  The trees, the knotty ones, are set to be cut down.  We rub each other, gasping.  My head arches back, digging into the old Indian blanket.  A ghost comes near to me, smiling.  We peer far ahead, seeing a tiny empty church.  The rain starts as mist, ends as torrential downpour.  His arms touch my shoulderblades.  It is love.  Or not.  Either way, I am sated, sated.

*ezs*