Author Archives: L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

About L. G. William Chapman, B.A., LL.B.

Past President, Mississippi Masonic Hall Inc.; Past Master (by demit) of Mississippi Lodge No. 147, A.F. and A.M., G.R.C. (in Ontario) Chartered by the Grand Lodge of Canada July 20, 1861; Don, Devonshire House, University of Toronto, Toronto, Ontario; Juris Doctor, Dalhousie Law School, Halifax, Nova Scotia; Bachelor of Arts (Philosophy), Glendon Hall, York University, Toronto, Ontario; Old Boy (House Captain, Regimental Sgt. Major, Prefect and Head Boy), St. Andrew's College, Aurora, Ontario.

Introducing Generative Engine Optimization (GEO)

In the modern world, people throughout the globe – from North America to Africa to Asia – are more likely to own an iPhone than to go to church or temple. It may appear a small compliment; and an even more outrageous accommodation. But the replacement of the probity of religion by technology is real. The entrancement is similarly overwhelming.The mechanism of the fantastic and the unbelievable has not commensurately altered. Instead we’re facing a new demon with like obscurity. The advent of AI (Artificial Intelligence) has provoked among the masses a seemingly epic change and intrigue in the world of commerce including in particular everyday sales mantras and successes at the base of the economy. The scrambling is notable for its unprecedented gusto – possibly an insight into the legitimacy of the fluster. Historically however my experience is that Nature of whatever character is governed less by hysteria than practicality – that is, discernible and digestible logic. Maintaining a clear mind and balance – especially in the realm of the unknown – is imperative to avoid being swept away and deceived by what in retrospect is a far less disquieting alarm with a far more obvious solution.

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Earthworms

When I was a child it was not uncommon to remark upon the sudden appearance of large earthworms after a heavy rainfall.  The worms seemingly sought to escape the underground deluge of water. The metaphor: a change of circumstance provokes a change of behaviour; the flooding of one is the reveal of another; the aeration and draining process is universal; when one goes down the other comes up, and so on.

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Self-expression

The term self-expression is one which at first glance is a pursuit patently absorbed in what is dangerously close to – and nothing more than – navel gazing.  On the other hand it signifies what is merely the flat and inescapable truth or axiom that one’s expression – or one’s pronouncement or articulation of the universe – is ultimately personal.  Allowed this broader and more forgiving nature, the perilous preoccupation becomes a less introverted exposition of the outside world.

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“My own private Shakespeare” a 1-man play by Justin Hay

We’ve been to see a one-man play performed this afternoon at the MERA (McDonalds Corners & Elfin Recreation & Arts) Schoolhouse theatre in rural Lanark Highlands. The thespian event satisfied every credential of the ideal rural outing: perfect weather, easy parking, plates of homemade cookies and coffee in the waiting room upon arrival, audible theatre and visible stage, singular performance, old friends, new acquaintances and dinner afterwards at the golf club.

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Professor Friedrich Icklebohm (Parts III & IV)

Professor Friedrich Icklebohm (Part III)

The Consolation of Thought

Evening had settled. The lamps burned low, their amber glow mellowing the sharp corners of the room. Outside, the wind moved softly through the birches, whispering against the windowpanes like the murmur of an old language. Between them, on the low table, stood a bottle of whiskey and two heavy tumblers — each half-filled, each slightly clouded by the room’s warmth.

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Friedrich Icklebohm

Professor Friedrich Icklebohm lived in a small cottage behind a white wooden fence not far from the village monument. His father and his grandfather had lived there before him; and soon, or so the Professor suspected, his own name would be added to the list of ancestors denoted on the brass plaque mounted by the front door.  For the present though he lived predominantly in the moment, preferring to ignore what, by frank account, was an inevitable and impending reality, unfriendly as it is unpredictable.

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Another inestimable day!

It’s after noon, another refreshingly cool and brilliantly sunny late summer day. The water glistens upon the river! The fields of dry cornstalks are broad strokes of mottled brown upon the canvass. We have been blessed with fine weather for the past week – and perhaps we shall be again for the next! The hour hand of my brass carriage clock precisely approaches Roman numeral III on its white enamel face and already this is a rewarding day!

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The evanescent summer

Once again today we’ve had to endure the rustling cornstalks in a cool breeze, an absolutely cloudless blue sky, a vast and distinctly perceptible horizon, diminished commercial traffic, barely traveled roadways, accommodating drivers, honking geese upon the rippled river, and the soothing burden of fresh, dry air. By all accounts this immeasurable weather is forecast to continue for the next week. This is truly the most favourable recollection I have of a so-called “Indian Summer”, a pleasantness which I particularly recall from my youth.

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