WordWolf

The Hudson River is not potable. First, it is an ESTUARY (not, strictly, a river, just like the East "River.") So, it contains not just the fresh-water river from upstate, but it also contains seawater, so, that changes everything and introduces all sorts of contaminants into the Hudson. Second, in the 20th century, it was used for transport and other industrial things- including General Electric dumping PCBs into the water for about 40 years. (Other sources added their own "contributions" like mercury and raw sewage.) The Hudson has previously been declared a SUPERFUND site, something only really disastrous places get declared, places that need lots of toxic cleanup immediately. So, unlike the aquifers, treating the Hudson wouldn't result in potable drinking water. Treating water from the aquifers DOES result in potable drinking water, and that's why NYC has clean drinking water coming from its taps.

BTW, in reading about how Superman keeps his identity, people seem to have left out the most practical reason to disbelieve Superman and Clark Kent are the same person- they have been seen in the same place at the same time. After the "Death of Superman" storyline, and after the "Return of Superman" storyline, Superman had returned, but Clark was still one of hundreds of people missing since the day Doomsday attacked Metropolis and "killed" Superman. When Jimmy Olsen welcomed Superman back and asked if he'd seen Clark, Superman paused, and, using his enhanced hearing, located a trapped dog. (He was clearing up a recent battle site, and the dog had been trapped for a few hours.) Jimmy: "Wow, I bet that's what happened to Mr Kent!" Superman: *thinking* "OF COURSE!" The next issue began with Superman rescuing Clark out from under some rubble, with cameras recording it all. Lois posed with her arms around them, one arm around Clark, one arm around Superman. Then Clark was checked out by a doctor. Clark mentioned having managed to reach an equipped fallout shelter, so he had access to food and water, and did what he could to exercise, so he needed a shave but otherwise seemed in decent health. Then Lois drove Clark home, and Superman came in through the window. "Kent, hands off my woman!" Lois told off Superman for addressing her like that. Clark applauded, saying nobody should get away with that, not even Superman. "Clark" then transformed back into the shapechanger Matrix (with some difficulty.) The Martian Manhunter has been known to help with that sort of thing as well, shapechanging so a Justice Leaguer could be in costume AND his identity at the same time. Tim Drake (Robin/"Red Robin") got help from Miss Martian the same way once, even faking "Tim" being shot and wounded while Robin looked for the shooter- all so Tim had an excuse to need assistance walking and look rather unable to run, jump, etc. (It helped cover Tim Drake's disappearance during "No Man's Land".) Although I do like that a few characters have casually mentioned that we all know Superman does not HAVE a secret identity, and is Superman 24/7 , an idea Lex Luthor was sure of back in the "Man of Steel" miniseries following CoIE. Lex found it ridiculous that someone as powerful as Superman would pretend to be as powerless as a normal human.

Dylan Sprayberry- Man of Steel. Cooper Timberline- Man of Steel. George Newbern- Superman VS The Elite, and Injustice: Gods Among Us, and The Batman (cartoon series.) Stephan Bender- Superman Returns. Jackson Warris- Smallville. Malkolm Alburquenque- Smallville. Gerard Christopher- Superboy. John Haymes Newton- Superboy. Aaron Smolinski- Superman the Movie (the kid who lifts the car above Jonathan Kent when the jack slips out and the car drops towards JK.) With the exception of George Newbern, the names I gave so far were for actors who played young Clark Kent, generally in elementary school age or thereabouts. There's been a lot of depictions of Clark as a kid.

CORRECT! These were all Clark Kent.

I think you're correct about the OP. NYC area's drinking water is high in quality, primarily from its sources being upstate aquifers. (NYC is densely populated, NY State is not, much of the state's population and 80% of its total taxes come from NYC.) Some places need help to have potable drinking water from their taps, and that's true in the US and elsewhere. (I dare you to try to drink Pittsburgh's tap water sometime.) Some can be helped with filtration systems, some can't- if their water is beyond the help of water filters in the home. Cleaning 95% of pollutants in some places still leaves you with enough to poison someone with unfit water.

People who are OK with committing felonies on humans may have no problem plagiarizing poems, and might be able to rationalize or justify it easily.

Dylan Sprayberry Cooper Timberline George Newbern Stephan Bender Jackson Warris Malkolm Alburquenque Gerard Christopher John Haymes Newton Aaron Smolinski

It was a parable. It was meant to make a specific point by analogy- in this case, it wasn't about the prodigal son, it was about the Forgiving Father!

I found it fascinating, some time ago, to look over the Greek texts of those verses. It called him the "man of sinS", plural. I thought it was interesting that "man" there was "anthropos". He will be "the son of ruin", a title used in reference to Judas Iscariot. He will sit in the HOLY OF HOLIES of God, that is, the temple's separated area consecrated to God and representing His Presence. He will sit in the Holy of Holies of God Almighty. and "set forth that he is God." He will CLAIM he's God. Knowing all of that, why AUTOMATICALLY assume this will proceed DIRECTLY from the Trinity? Don't you know other religions and philosophies, ones that claim either that you shall be as God or that you already are? I'm suspicious that the use of "anthropos" there might suggest someone pushing a "perfectability of man" doctrine, where any man might potentially become A god. Instead of something strictly Hindu, say, I'd look for some newer, fusion of Hindu and other doctrines. Come on. The Greeks and Romans had ideas about men becoming gods- like Hercules/Heracles to the Greeks, and the Roman Emperor to the Romans (he got temples and everything.) A guy who was a big deal was promoted to a god. We know that the early church felt in competition with the Greco-Roman religion. There were rumors that, when Julius Caesar died, the dead rose from their graves and walked around in the streets. (Shakespeare mentions it in Hamlet, so it was well-known when he wrote that play.) Some Christians decided to "compete", and, next thing you know, during the earthquake at the moment of Jesus' death, we got a reference to the dead rising, and that crudely inserted into the text in a jarring way. (Things that supposedly take place weeks later are shoved into a single verse before they happened, and when they actually happened, NOBODY mentioned it. Secular writers had no mention of it. It's not in Acts, nor mentioned in books about saints and martyrs. Maybe you're worried about the wrong thing with the man of sinS, this General Practitioner of sinfulness.

At least 2 humans- you forgot the convicted criminal on Death Row did it, also.

Awoooo!

The Anvil — God's Word (attributed to John Clifford) LAST EVE I passed beside a blacksmith's door, And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime; Then, looking in, I saw upon the floor Old hammers, worn with beating years of time. " How many anvils have you had, " said I, " To wear and batter all these hammers so? " " Just one, " said he, and then, with twinkling eye, " The anvil wears the hammers out, you know. " And so, thought I, the anvil of God's Word, For ages skeptic blows have beat upon; Yet, though the noise of falling blows was heard, The anvil is unharmed — the hammers gone.

Myra Brooks Welch wrote "The Touch of the Master's Hand." The Touch of the Master's Hand 'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But held it up with a smile. "What am I bidden, good folks," he cried, "Who'll start the bidding for me?" "A dollar, a dollar. Then two! Only two? Two dollars, and who'll make it three?" "Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice; Going for three…" But NO, From the room, far back, a grey-haired man Came forward and picked up the bow; Then wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loosened strings, He played a melody pure and sweet, As a caroling angel sings. The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?" And he held it up with the bow. "A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two? Two thousand! And who'll make it three? Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice, And going and gone!" said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, "We do not quite understand. What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply: "The touch of the master's hand." And many a man with life out of tune, And battered and scarred with sin, Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd Much like the old violin. A "mess of pottage," a glass of wine, A game — and he travels on. He is "going" once, and "going" twice, He's "going" and almost "gone." But The Master comes, and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought By the touch of The Master's hand.

I've heard he did that with "The Touch of the Master's Hand." Was that the poem you were thinking of in this case?

If I can figure out how 2016 figures in, I'll know which 1980s movie this was..... The father was recast, so that scratches another possibility. Was this "the Never-Ending Story"????

Can't be "Teen Wolf" because the sequel was about a different teen. Can't be "Home Alone" because the clues don't match- it was a hit, not a failure, and 1 and 2 had most of the same cast.

*thinks* That prank made it over a loudspeaker. Had to be a movie I saw decades ago, that was risque enough to pull this joke. Variations on this joke were popular in the 1980s. This was "LASSIE", wasn't it?

Here's The Corps Poem: What Is The Way Corps? Not ancient walls and ivy-mantled towers Where dull denominational traditions Rule with heavy hand Believer’s deeply springing powers. Not spacious pleasure courts Or lofty temples of athletic fame Where devotees of sports mistake a pastime For life’s highest game. Not fashion or renown Or wealthy patronage and rich estate; No, none of these can crown The Way Corps with light And make it truly great. But equipped believers, ambassadors strong and wise Who teach because they love the teacher’s task And find their richest prize In eyes that open, and in minds that ask.

For those who skipped over the entire poem, here's the relevant part again.... "IV What constitutes a school? Not ancient halls and ivy-mantled towers, Where dull traditions rule With heavy hand youth's lightly springing powers; Not spacious pleasure courts, And lofty temples of athletic fame, Where devotees of sports Mistake a pastime for life's highest aim; Not fashion, nor renown Of wealthy patronage and rich estate; No, none of these can crown A school with light and make it truly great. But masters, strong and wise, Who teach because they love the teacher's task, And find their richest prize In eyes that open and in minds that ask;" COPYRIGHT 1910

Spirit Of The Everlasting Boy ODE FOR THE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF LAWRENCEVILLE SCHOOL June 11, 1910 I The British bard who looked on Eton's walls, Endeared by distance in the pearly gray And soft aerial blue that ever falls On English landscape with the dying day, Beheld in thought his boyhood far away, Its random raptures and its festivals Of noisy mirth, The brief illusion of its idle joys, And mourned that none of these can stay With men, whom life inexorably calls To face the grim realities of earth. His pensive fancy pictured there at play From year to year the careless bands of boys, Unconscious victims kept in golden state, While haply they await The dark approach of disenchanting Fate, To hale them to the sacrifice Of Pain and Penury and Grief and Care, Slow-withering Age, or Failure's swift despair. Half-pity and half-envy dimmed the eyes Of that old poet, gazing on the scene Where long ago his youth had flowed serene, And all the burden of his ode was this: “Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.” II But not for us, O plaintive elegist, Thine epicedial tone of sad farewell To joy in wisdom and to thought in youth! Our western Muse would keep her tryst With sunrise, not with sunset, and foretell In boyhood's bliss the dawn of manhood's truth. III O spirit of the everlasting boy, Alert, elate, And confident that life is good, Thou knockest boldly at the gate, In hopeful hardihood, Eager to enter and enjoy Thy new estate. Through the old house thou runnest everywhere, Bringing a breath of folly and fresh air. Ready to make a treasure of each toy, Or break them all in discontented mood; Fearless of Fate, Yet strangely fearful of a comrade's laugh; Reckless and timid, hard and sensitive; In talk a rebel, full of mocking chaff, At heart devout conservative; In love with love, yet hating to be kissed; Inveterate optimist, And judge severe, In reason cloudy but in feeling clear; Keen critic, ardent hero-worshipper, Impatient of restraint in little ways, Yet ever ready to confer On chosen leaders boundless power and praise; Adventurous spirit burning to explore Untrodden paths where hidden danger lies, And homesick heart looking with wistful eyes Through every twilight to a mother's door; Thou daring, darling, inconsistent boy, How dull the world would be Without thy presence, dear barbarian, And happy lord of high futurity! Be what thou art, our trouble and our joy, Our hardest problem and our brightest hope! And while thine elders lead thee up the slope Of knowledge, let them learn from teaching thee That vital joy is part of nature's plan, And he who keeps the spirit of the boy Shall gladly grow to be a happy man. IV What constitutes a school? Not ancient halls and ivy-mantled towers, Where dull traditions rule With heavy hand youth's lightly springing powers; Not spacious pleasure courts, And lofty temples of athletic fame, Where devotees of sports Mistake a pastime for life's highest aim; Not fashion, nor renown Of wealthy patronage and rich estate; No, none of these can crown A school with light and make it truly great. But masters, strong and wise, Who teach because they love the teacher's task, And find their richest prize In eyes that open and in minds that ask; And boys, with heart aglow To try their youthful vigour on their work, Eager to learn and grow, And quick to hate a coward or a shirk: These constitute a school,— A vital forge of weapons keen and bright, Where living sword and tool Are tempered for true toil or noble fight! But let not wisdom scorn The hours of pleasure in the playing fields: There also strength is born, And every manly game a virtue yields. Fairness and self-control, Good-humour, pluck, and patience in the race, Will make a lad heart-whole To win with honour, lose without disgrace. Ah, well for him who gains In such a school apprenticeship to life: With him the joy of youth remains In later lessons and in larger strife! V On Jersey's rolling plain, where Washington, In midnight marching at the head Of ragged regiments, his army led To Princeton's victory of the rising sun; Here in this liberal land, by battle won For Freedom and the rule Of equal rights for every child of man, Arose a democratic school, To train a virile race of sons to bear With thoughtful joy the name American, And serve the God who heard their father's prayer. No cloister, dreaming in a world remote From that real world wherein alone we live; No mimic court, where titled names denote A dignity that only worth can give; But here a friendly house of learning stood, With open door beside the broad highway, And welcomed lads to study and to play In generous rivalry of brotherhood. A hundred years have passed, and Lawrenceville, In beauty and in strength renewed, Stands with her open portal still, And neither time nor fortune brings To her deep spirit any change of mood, Or faltering from the faith she held of old. Still to the democratic creed she clings: That manhood needs nor rank nor gold To make it noble in our eyes; That every boy is born with royal right, From blissful ignorance to rise To joy more lasting and more bright, In mastery of body and of mind, King of himself and servant of mankind. VI Old Lawrenceville, Thy happy bell Shall ring to-day, O'er vale and hill, O'er mead and dell, While far away, With silent thrill, The echoes roll Through many a soul, That knew thee well, In boyhood's day, And loves thee still. Ah, who can tell How far away, Some sentinel Of God's good will, In forest cool, Or desert gray, By lonely pool, Or barren hill, Shall faintly hear, With inward ear, The chiming bell, Of his old school, Through darkness pealing; And lowly kneeling, Shall feel the spell Of grateful tears His eyelids fill; And softly pray To Him who hears: God bless old Lawrenceville!

I'm also hearing that victor paul wierwille claimed to have written the poem "THE DASH." This is what happens when a small-time plagiarist thinks they can get away with EVERYTHING- they start plagiarizing bigger things, better-known things. "THE DASH" is a poem by Linda Ellis. That's very well-known. She wrote the poem when she was in school, won some school award, then parleyed the catchiness of that poem into a writing career. I don't begrudge her ANY of that. It was her own work, and she made a career out of it successfully. The reason I bring it up is that it's so easy to FOLLOW this poem through her career. She's even sued people who printed it on their websites while correctly attributing it to her. The poem begins.... "The Dash Poem (By Linda Ellis) I read of a man who stood to speak At the funeral of a friend He referred to the dates on the tombstone From the beginning…to the end." I'm not going to type the rest because, although I think I have full legal right to do so, I don't want the grief of making the GSC prove in court that it is perfectly legal. The point of the poem is that the dash in the dates on the tombstone represent the entirety of the person's life and what they did during it. So, consider how you spend your life, and make it worthwhile so that your eulogy reflects a life well-spent, how you spent "your dash." I don't know how vpw's name got attached to that poem anywhere, but he freely claimed credit for other poems, so it would not surprise me to hear he claimed that one as well. A less-likely possibility is that he had a habit of skipping the proper attribution, so people concluded he was saying he had written it, and thought he was honest and trust-worthy. He also did that sort of thing, and IMPLIED or INSINUATED lies rather than say them out loud. (It's a skill he taught lcm and others.) That technique was how the poem recited "for the Way Corps" was attributed to vpw, even though some people claim he correctly attributed it SOME OF THE TIME. That was a different poem, and with a few changes, it became the poem the Way Corps recognize. Anyway, vpw did not write the poem "The Dash."

We discussed this before, the previous thread is here: "If a Million People Love You".... https://www.greasespotcafe.com/ipb/topic/7373-if-a-million-people-love-you/ Guadalupe de Saavedra's version, predating vpw and TY, is here: https://web.archive.org/web/20091027122556/http://geocities.com/lilbevykitty/1000ppl.html https://web.archive.org/web/20030206141507/http://donhuntington.com/poems.html Here was TY claiming credit by attaching his own name to it.... https://web.archive.org/web/20030220000717/http://www.ohiodeathrow.com/terrell_yarbrough.htm

It's been commented here that victor paul wierwille, serial plagiarist, couldn't express himself well without plagiarizing the words of others, the works of others. When I was a small child, it occurred to me that, if I went to a poem whose author was anonymous, lost to time, and I began trying to connect my name to it, eventually I could get people to believe I'd written it. The thought didn't go farther than that. However, if I'd been a dishonest, serial plagiarist, like victor paui wierwille, I might have gone farther and connected my name with a poem from someone else. vpw could do this, and vpw DID do this. "If A Million People Love You." That's a poem that at least 2 different people plagiarized and then tried to take credit for. The first was vpw, and the second was a convicted criminal on death row. https://web.archive.org/web/20030220000717/http://www.ohiodeathrow.com/terrell_yarbrough.htm If A Million People Love You If a million people love you, I will be among them. If only a thousand people love you, Remember, I'll be one of the thousand who cares. If only a hundred people love you, I'll be the one who cries. If only two people love you, I'll be the one on your right side. But if no one on earth is left to love you, you will know that I have died! But God is still alive! Terrell Yarbrough Mind you, vpw was already claiming credit for this poem when this man wasn't yet born! twi published "Album of Verse." The last poem in the book was "If a Million People Love You," phrased identically to this. The poem has that it was WRITTEN BY victor paul wierwille there. Some time before that, the poem is credited to Guadalupe de Saavedra. If You Hear That a Thousand People Love You, by Guadalupe de Saavedra, 1973. "If you hear that a thousand people love you, remember, saavedra is among them. If you hear that a hundred people love you, remember, saavedra is in the first or last row. If you hear that seven people love you, remember, saavedra is among them, like a Wednesday in the middle of the week. If you hear that two people love you, remember, one of them is saavedra. If you hear that only one person loves you, remember he is saavedra. And when you see no one else around you, and you find out that no one loves you anymore, then you will know for certain that saavedra is dead. " I'm confident, however, that the original poem with a million people loving you pre-existed THIS version, and was used on websites where people memorialized their dearly departed. Before that, it would have been discussed or used in memorials, funerals, etc. Just like it's used today. It would have been easy for vpw to overhear it and get a copy written out, then plagiarize it like he plagiarized everything else. The only part that wasn't identical was the line "but God is still alive." Rather than think Christians cut off that line later, it's a lot more logical to conclude that last line was ADDED later- as in, when vpw plagiarized it, he added a sentence, then said "Look at this poem I wrote." It's his standard operating procedure.

It's known that, while he was teaching sermons, he was editing the work of other Christians for a periodical- and lifted their work for his sermons. It's known that, while he was teaching pfal, the rambling and material was organized by people like Rhoda, and eventually compiled into books. (As has been said, it's the cheap way for a minister to "write" a book- to have someone transcribe some of your sermons and compile them into a book.) Of course, that pfal material was from Stiles, Bullinger, Kenyon, etc to begin with. The White Book was largely retyped by vpw from Stiles' book on the holy spirit, and later had a few additions from Bullinger, etc. That's why it doesn't sound like vpw, it sounds like Stiles. vpw had a familiarity with this method, he was comfortable with it. Did he approach his correspondence classes with a sudden honesty, skipping plagiarism and submitting entirely his own work, or did he do what he always did, and rip off others and rely on others to shore up his deficient skills with presentation and phrasing, and so on? No, really, a man who plagiarized, lied, deceived, and had others do the heavy lifting in research AND presentation the rest of the time, would he even consider the more difficult, HONEST way if he had options? Would a leopard change his spots?

I thought somebody might- I would. Sometimes they would edit that word in airing the song. At the end of the song, there's a bunch of spoken words as if there's a conversation we're missing. Those were all excerpts from interviews, which were edited together and into the end of the song. In other words, CORRECT.