Review: BRAVURA by Lisa Kirazian

“This story, Bravura, is five stars! – gold plated stars. Let me say, unequivocally, I despise opera. I’d rather drink bleach than listen to it. Had my kindle played the operatic pieces mentioned in this story, I would have taken a hammer to it. I do like classical though. That said, the music used, being an integral part of the storyline, in the written form here, was fabulous. This story is alive, both in characters and total presentation. Brava!

Some might say this book contains romance, a genre I’m not really fond of. I did not find it to be that way, perceiving it more akin to the dynamics of excellent soap-opera; extremely tasteful and never sloppy or lurid. At times the story slows down a bit, but not without reason. I found little to be extraneous, little without purpose.

This is the story of the Driscoll family, of main characters Kathleen and her brother Neil, from their childhood years through conservatoire, then well into their adult years. Parts of the story remind me of a film, “The Competition”, with Richard Dreyfuss and Amy Irving; a story about musical competition. Both Kathleen, Neil, and their friends have to navigate the competitive years, both personally and musically, at the Royal School of Music in London, before heading into their professional lives. Quite a story it is.

Five stars! Gold plated. I loved it.”


The invasion must stop.

From ZeroHedge

Riot Police Unleash Tear Gas, Water Cannons As Migrants Storm Hungarian Border Barriers

“Tensions between migrants fleeing Syria’s bloody civil war on their way to the German “promised land (underlining added)

Germany isn’t even the goal for many. There’s Sweden, Denmark, the British Isles, France, Italy… and of course, Canada, Australia, the United States. These people are coming from everywhere. They’re not all Syrian.

Can those countries absorb all who wish to come? Do they have the means, the physical and social infrastructure, to accommodate these migrants, in these numbers?

These migrants do not arrive in Belgium and magically, they’re Belgian. A Somali does not get off the plane in Toronto and suddenly become a first-world Canadian. These people bring with them cultures that are at odds with the culture they are entering. It’s overly watering down good Whiskey with impurities till it’s no better than rot-gut. To much, to fast. It’s the difference between keeping one’s culture intact versus being invaded, which by definition, alters one’s culture in favor of the highly modified. Problem is, the modification does not increase what built the first-world country / culture. It can’t. First cannot remain where third displaces it; waters it down beyond recognition. This is different from first teaching third. Third needs be willing to learn. That’s not necessarily a pleasant experience as history has shown.

Long time ago, the Romans, the pinacle of civilization, went north, expanding their territory. Went so far north as to reach Britain. They brought with them roads, knowledge, engineering; what was, at the time, first-world culture. They could be brutal in their teaching. That’s the way it was. They built Hadrian’s Wall, in the north of England, a defensive measure against the barbarians to the north; my ancestors. I come from a line of barbarians, way back when. They did not get the benefit of contact with first-worlders for quite some time. My ancestors didn’t leave barbarism heading into first-world civilization for a long time. Leaving barbarism can be said for the Gauls (also my ancestors) and the Franks. Building a first-world civilization takes time. Not days, weeks, or even years. It took centuries. Even Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Before the Romans there were the Greeks. There’s been a few first-world civilizations. All have come and gone. Most all had characteristics they shared in their demise. One was the increasing mass introduction of cultures in opposition to what built them in the first place. Regression towards the lowest common denominator.

If the current first-world, what is often characterized as modern civilization, wishes to remain intact, it must stop the invasion. It must send them home. If they want to be first-world, a world they have contact with, they need to build it. That takes lots of time. They will not raise the first-world up by invading it. They will destroy it. That’s a fact, and I have history on my side in saying so.

Other peoples’ money

It’s been said, it’s one thing to be compassionate with one’s own money. Wholly another when it’s not your own.

James lives in a small town. Population of ten thousand. When James bought his small farm he figured that the deal, including what he’d pay in property tax, was doable. Even a bad year or two he could weather. More than that he’d have to skimp to get by. That’s the way it is. His risk, his reward.

Three years later, spinster Olsen’s home burns to the ground. It was a meager home of two small bedrooms, living room, and single bath she’d inherited from her late father. All had been lost. She’s a beloved member of the community, living on a small pension. The insurance she’d maintained on the house was found to not be enough. It only paid for about 20% of its value. She’d neglected to ever look to its provisions.

Her friends and neighbors felt terrible for her predicament. They managed to raise enough to get to 50% rebuild of her home. That’s not good enough they all felt, so they went to the Town Council.

The Council, not wanting to look uncaring, voted to issue 10yr Bonds. Some people bought those bonds. Spinster Olsen had her rebuilt home and all its replaced contents.

The next year, James sat on his front porch looking at his property tax bill. It had gone up. Cost of the Bonds. James hadn’t had the best of year; weather too dry. He could handle this amount of increase. Hope next year the weather is a little better. Nine more years to go.

It’s now two years later. James is getting by, the weather had been a bit better so he’d not felt any real bite from that increase. Everyone in the town is happy for spinster Olsen.

In late summer the dam lets loose. Wipes out a tenth of the peoples’ property; one thousand spinster Olsens. It’s catastrophic. Not enough can be raised directly, so to the Town Council they go. 30yr Bonds are issued. The Council said, “It takes a village.”

The next year, James sits on his porch and looks at his arrived property tax bill. He hangs his head low, uncertain as to tomorrow. What he could not see that day was that in three years the Sheriff would come to his farm. “Back taxes, James. Your farm’s been seized. Sorry.”

“What will I do now, Sheriff, I have no job, no income, no nothing.”

“Well, there’s Social Services.”

James thinks on that. Another, added to the rolls; me. Someone pays, it’s tax dollars. A penny increase here, a penny increase there. Yeah, soon it’s real money. I’ve done the analysis. Can’t run this farm with such high taxes. If only spinster Olsen had had savings, moved into an apartment till she’d saved up a bit more, then perhaps even gotten a loan she could afford.  Instead, I, and others, paid for it. No one asked me. Hell, I gave her a hundred bucks, of my money. Wish I still had that. Today I need it. Then there was the great flood. I paid for that, too. People are grumbling about the property taxes now. It’s getting tight on everyone. Heard Dan closed his shop. Business is way off. He’s on the rolls too now. I used to provide farm goods, at real good prices. Local. Now they’ll have to go elsewhere. Cost of acquisition will be higher. What a shame. Lori lost her job at the restaurant. It had bought goods from me. Had to let her go. Cost of keeping her had gone up, with the Council raising the minimum wage. Restaurant is trying to keep its prices down, stay in business.

Nope, they didn’t send spinster Olsen, or the flood victims, to Social Services. I wonder if her pension can cover her property taxes now. Me? I’m off to Social Services, wait in line with Lori, fill out forms, another in need of other peoples’ money.

SJWs – What is it with these people?

Who are these – people – perhaps better to ask, what are these – people – who say it’s improper to use descriptive words like he and she, or him and her, because one might not know how someone self-identifies their gender? Who are these – people – who have taken it upon themselves to be the arbiters of right and wrong, keepers of the Social Narrative in everything from action to speech to thought? If you do not know of what I’m saying here, you have not been paying attention. For example, see here, here, here, and here. Like a rising river that threatens you, you’ll be caught unawares for lack of paying attention. “I don’t want to hear it!” you might say. “Can we watch ‘Married With Children’?”

Is it something in the water? In the food they eat? The air they breathe? What is it about them that they point and shriek, “raciss” “homophobe” “intolerant” “check your privilege”. What is it about them that if a fact or an opinion that runs counter to the narrative they espouse is stated you’re set upon, attacked in the fashion they use? They say they’re inclusive, yet exclude because – badthink, being other than narrative approved. There’s badact, doing what runs counter. Make a wrong political contribution – you’re guilty and must suffer, even so far as being “Eich”d –

After less than two weeks on the job, Brendon Eich has resigned as CEO of Mozilla Corp.

His undoing was a $1,000 donation supporting the Proposition 8 campaign in 2008, an anti-gay marriage referendum that was successfully overturned last year.”

How tolerant of the self-declared tolerant. How did such a man even become CEO? Surely not because of his ability. Corporations are never run by people of ability. They’re to be run, according to the narrative, by people who uphold the narrative. How does one recognize these people, these Social Justice Warriors? How do they operate? What are their goals?

SJWs Always Lie, Taking Down the Thought Police – a manual for protecting your life, your job, your family.




Have to start somewhere

Changing over from Blogger. Not that I did much there anyway.

I’m a new author. Well, relatively new. “NIKKI MAGEE”,  a modern fairy tale, is my first. An eNovella, which came out in Oct. ’14. I published it through and it’s available there, at Amazon (Kindle), iTunes, Kobo, B&N, and a few others who may be carrying it.

It’s been revised several times, but not for content other than a word here and there. Mostly, I was at war with the comma. That bloody things causes all sorts of problems. Many battles, and I won’t say the war’s been won either. I don’t think it ever is.

I’m thinking of changing the cover a bit. A graphic designer said, “Looks like a horror story, or perhaps a thriller.” Hmm. That it isn’t. The cover is a scene in the book, very representational of it. She’s working with it. No rush. See what she comes up with.