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Up, down, across sky, earth, and mortals — I  ripped up my pair of favorite torn jeans, stressed out out my right knee, and twisted my ankle.  A cry of pain shot down the mountain. An incomplete fourfould, without gods, and no Greek temples. I imagine Heidegger’s walks at middle age through the Black Forest were more leisurely and less ridiculous. Scroll down to see how on this blogsite “the Adirondacks” surround and absorb the creation of “Israel” and the Palestinian “Nakba.”