Pen Truth

Pen Truth Contributor

I got one of those emails today from a friend. You know the kind, the kind that bombards you with hate-filled political rhetoric. The email subject line is; “SEE IF I GOT THIS RIGHT!!” and is followed by this diatribe:

Gravity; Cleaning up some of the pieces.

Posted: 14th July 2010 by Mike Trent in Science, Space
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Mike Trethowan Pen Truth Contributor

Gravity is considered a basic or fundamental forces of this universe. Like fire to a cave man, gravity is not fully understood. Just as cavemen understood how to create fire,that it produces heat and how to utilize fire for their benefit and survival, too, we know only this much about gravity. There are models that can predict the apparent gravity of massive objects, but ultimately gravity does not always act as the models predict.

Gravity Sucks.

Posted: 14th July 2010 by Mike Trent in Science
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Mike Trethowan

 

As time it turns the river flows
a destined dawn approaches

-Dante Carmelo Cullari

Poets speak of time as flowing like a river winding past trees, over waterfalls, merging with the ocean. Maybe, after all, this may not be so wrong, partly anyway.  I find myself, at rare times lying awake late in the night, or early in the morning alone with my thoughts.   And just what is it that occupies my sleepless mind when Morpheus abandons me in the dark? Time.  Not that red faced tormentor flashing its red eyes at me, reminding me of the hour of the evening that I lay there sleepless.  It is Time that consumes my time, trying with my mechanically inclined mind to ferret out times enigma.  And as time, it turns, a destined dawn approaches.  Morpheus, your cruel abandonment is the wellspring of many a thoughts.

The Stylist, What’s in a name? Segment One.

Posted: 28th May 2010 by Mike Trent in Books
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Pen Truth

Pen Truth Contributor

The book heavy in his hand, pages crisp. As the pages are turned, a deafening crackle breaks the silence of the room. Heavy breath as line by line his right finger scrolls down the pages. Lips moving as he reads. Sweat forms on his upper lip. Name by name his heart beat quickens. His finger comes to rest at the name he had been looking for. He lets out a long groaning sigh. “Yes. 1432 Brentwood Terrace.”