I recently felt that to help with launching my new book I’d integrate my website anthonyjamesauthor.com with my wordpress blog. I followed the advice to map my DNS to wordpress in the hope that the consequence would be positive. Sadly my ineptitude failed to note that moving the DNS did just that, and only that, leaving the contents of my website in the ether. Thus with one stroke I had written off my website.
No one in wordpress helped very much probably because they are not used to idiots using their site. I have now reverted to separate website anthonyjamesauthor.com and manseljames.worpress blog page.
Beware those seeking to build a platform of the pitfalls. No one is trying to trip you up but you need to take advice before making apparently simple changes.

It is the autumn of my life, and like an ageing tree
My leaves begin to fall, and as they flutter down
Like tears on the wind, they scatter hope and fear
Today they spin in joy because of hope rediscovered
Where hope was lost on Merseyside.
At last those gallant boys and girls and Mums and Dads
Can wipe away the tarnish so cruelly applied
by a sneering establishment, the last bastion of
a false superiority of “we know better”.
My leaves scatter in the wind of hubris
Remembering too the workers’ friend
that slandered their kindred souls
in the fire of the falsely burning Sun.
Today there are joys, not joys but relief
that Scousers proud are Liverpudlians true
as they have ever been. A shadow lifted,
a light of pride that never faded, now
shining for all to see, feel and almost touch.
The leaves spin on down toward tomorrow
When guilt and shame will walk for many
And rightly so, but lest we forget that
In those days not all was right, and lots was wrong
Wrong by many folk, not consciously not evilly
but because it was the norm, the rickety stadia
the poorly trained coppers, the crappy ambulances.
No, no evil here! But evil in the sad evasion of the truth
The cover-up, the evil story of the lovely fans,
That terrible misjudgment that will haunt for ages
Not born from evil men, but weaklings
the sons of an establishment, now for ever passed.
The leaf will fall and nurture a stronger brighter day
where the nobility of Liverpool will light the way.

The lost army of the loved ones:  How far the Promised Land   Syria

Source: | manseljames on WordPress.com

The lost army of the loved onesSyria