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Do we have some amazing, incredible, bizarre and wonderful links for you this week! The links are grouped loosely by theme (all brought to you by the letter “W”), so read on and have a peculiar treasure or twelve to start your week of well.

On writing: Did you know writing has health benefits, from your lungs to your liver, your mood and healing capabilities? Or watch someone explain “My job is that I lie to children” with humour and a secret door or three.

On wonder: Gather good. Pass it on. Multiply goodness . Also, there’s the love of a man for his wife and God, shared by his son.

On weird and wacky: A carrot for/is music! How to cut cake with science!

On wilderness: Some deep sea creatures have been highlighted, as well as one that looks like a real-life Pokémon.

On warm fuzzies: A personal blogger’s focus is “…the worth of a soul no matter our abilities or disabilities, our hidden potential..”. Also, is it possible to put the warm fuzzies of home in a box?

On weighty matters: Segullah’s September Journal is live and gorgeous! Finally, our First Draft Poetry this week is from Heather B, inspired by this letter to a RS President.

Astride the media circus, that pulpit,

his apologies ringing, her

makeup streaming, masking disgust,

money embezzled, women imbibed,

mansions/dinners/airconditioned

doghouses paid for from kind donations

from the working class gullible searching

for new life or life beyond, as serfs ever

have searched, admired, supported

robber barons,

carrying the jaw of an ass.

She cries ugly, effulgent apologies

a media joke, a whore, she must

have known (how could she not know), complicit

in her streaming pancake base and

jowl wagging sorrow. I have no pity

for her partnership with this godly man

who bilked so much from so many (who had

so little but misguided faith.),

and yet

25 years and I stand

with my godly man as he

gnaws my soul apologizing

and the children stand around, waiting

for their fate to be decided.

With makeup streaming, how could I

not know (how could I not have known?) and see

her apologies anew, the guilt

not in complimentary complicit complacency, but hiding

intent naiveté, enforced innocence,

seeing only what one is trained to see,

as all magicians’ assistants direct the eye

away from the twisting finger, distract

from the constant dwindling suspension

of belief.

Played any vegetables lately? Any cake cutting tips? Felt any wonder lately? Have a wild and wonderful week!


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