Tuesday, September 28, 2004
A Warning

Little animals from cartoons, talking rabbits, doggies, squirrels, as well as ladybugs, bees, grasshoppers. They have as much in common with real animals as our notions of the world have with the real world. Think of this, and tremble.

From: Road-side Dog
by Czeslaw Milosz

- posted by -g @ 9:36 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Friday, September 24, 2004
Reflect Reflect

The world is a looking glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, an it is a jolly , kind companion. -Thackeray 'Vanity Fair'

There is a time for departure even when there's no certain place to go.

One-half of knowing what you want is knowing what you must give up before you get it.

It is curious how silly trivial things, sometimes for no apparent reason, become significant. At first you laugh at these things, you think they are of no importance, you go on and you feel that you haven't got the strength to stop yourself....And so it seems to me that if I die, I shall take part in life one way or another.

Sometimes people come into your life and you know right away that they were meant to be there...to serve some sort of purpose, teach you a lesson or help figure out who you are or who you want to become. You never know who these people may be but when you lock eyes with them, you know that every moment that they will affect your life in some profound way. And sometimes things happen to you at the time that may seem horrible, painful and unfair, but in reflection you realize that without overcoming those obstacles you would have never realized your potential, strength, will power or heart.
Thank you for being.

- posted by -g @ 3:49 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Thursday, September 23, 2004

It belongs to the imperfection of everything human that man can only attain his desire by passing through its opposite.

There are, as is known, insects that die in the moment of fertilization. So it is with all joy: life's highest, most splendid moment of enjoyment is accompanied by death.

This is what is sad when one contemplates human life, that so many live out their lives in quiet lostness - they live, as it were, away from themselves and vanish like shadows. Their immortal souls are blown away, and they are not disquieted by the question of its immortality, because they are already disintegrated before they die.

The more a person can forget, the greater the number of metamorphoses which their life can undergo, the more a person can remember the more divine their life becomes.

Truth always rests with the minority, and the minority is always stronger than the majority, because the minority is generally formed by those who really have an opinion, while the strength of a majority is illusory, formed by the gangs who have no opinion - and who, therefore, in the next instant (when it is evident that the minority is the stronger) assume its opinion . . . while Truth again reverts to a new minority.

Most pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that they hurry past it.

- posted by -g @ 4:12 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

- posted by Allie @ 9:12 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

On Finding Your True Self

It happened that some time ago a poor man walked barefoot to the capital city. He had the occasion to earn a good deal of money. In fact, he earned so much money that he was able to buy a fine pair of stockings and well-made shoes, and still have enough to get drunk on - which is what he did. In his drunken stupor, he attempted to find his way home and found, instead, an opportunity to lay down for a rest. His choice of location for such a nap was in the middle of main street. After a time, a wagon driven by a team of horses happened along. The driver, seeing the drunken man, called out: "Move yourself or I will run over your legs." The drunken man stirred; looked down at his legs, and seeing unfamiliar stockings and shoes, called back: "Drive on, they are not my legs."

- posted by -g @ 6:13 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Tuesday, September 21, 2004
A Kierkegaardian Parable:

A certain flock of geese lived together in a barnyard with high walls around it. Because the corn was good and the barnyard was secure, these geese would never take a risk. One day a philosopher goose came among them. He was a very good philosopher and every week they listened quietly and attentively to his learned discourses. 'My fellow travellers on the way of life,' he would say, 'can you seriously imagine that this barnyard, with great high walls around it, is all there is to existence?

'I tell you, there is another and a greater world outside, a world of which we are only dimly aware. Our forefathers knew of this outside world. For did they not stretch their wings and fly across the trackless wastes of desert and ocean, of green valley and wooded hill? But alas, here we remain in this barnyard, our wings folded and tucked into our sides, as we are content to puddle in the mud, never lifting our eyes to the heavens which should be our home.

The geese thought this was very fine lecturing. 'How poetical,' they thought. 'How profoundly existential. What a flawless summary of the mystery of existence.' Often the philosopher spoke of the advantages of flight, calling on the geese to be what they were. After all, they had wings, he pointed out. What were wings for, but to fly with? Often he reflected on the beauty and the wonder of life outside the barnyard, and the freedom of the skies.

And every week the geese were uplifted, inspired, moved by the philosopher's message. They hung on his every word. They devoted hours, weeks, months to a thoroughgoing analysis and critical evaluation of his doctrines. They produced learned treatises on the ethical and spiritual implications of flight. All this they did. But one thing they never did. They did not fly! For the corn was good, and the barnyard was secure!

- posted by -g @ 9:12 PM | | 0 rocks in pond


It looks as if that, ready, formed in every detail, waited nearby, at a hand's stretching, and had I caught it, I would not have drawn the thing out of the nothingness all around, but taken, as if from a shelf, an object already existing.

- posted by -g @ 5:40 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Monday, September 20, 2004
On the nothingness of everything

Did you know that the atom is made up primarily, by volume, of absolutely nothing at all? There is the dense nucleus of protons and neutrons, right in the middle; and then there are vast clouds of tiny little electrons, which have almost no weight at all, just buzzing around in frantic pointless circles. And the rest of the atom consists of absolutely nothing. Empty space. Void.

After Zeise said this in chemistry today I spent about five minutes wondering if I could put my fingers through the desk, if atoms were really that insubstantial.

Then it occurred to me that a single atom does not float around on its own. The desk is more than a pile of atoms, of the various sorts that make up fake wood, poured through a mold into the shape of a desk. It is, in fact, a collection of bonded atoms, these tiny little things stuck to each other and then coated with plastic or wood veneer or something, which itself is composed of more atoms bonded together. And thence comes my desk. So in reality it is not the atoms themselves that are strong, but the bonds.

Mmm, covalent.

- posted by Eva @ 10:25 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Sunday, September 19, 2004
Freeze of the Mime

What is the relation of eternity and the moment?

Once upon a time there were two actors, who perhaps hardly reflected that a deeper significance might be found in their performance. They came on the stage, placed themselves opposite one another, and then began a pantomime representation of some passionate conflict. When the pantomimic play was in full swing, and the spectators were following the play with keen expectancy of what was to come after, the actors suddenly came to a stop and remained motionless, as though they were petrified in the pantomimic expression of the instant. This may produce a most comical effect, because the instant becomes accidentally commensurable with the eternal. The effect of sculpture is due to the fact that the eternal expression is expressed eternally; the comic effect, on the other hand, by the fact that the accidental expression was eternalized.

It is written that in an instant, the world will pass away...like a twinkling of an eye. The instant, it would seem, is commensurable with eternity, because the instant of destruction expresses at the same instant eternity.

- posted by -g @ 6:32 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Saturday, September 11, 2004
When you take the text out of it's context, you are left with a con:

A man was walking down the road with his donkey and dog when a car drove up behind him and knocked all three into a ditch. Three weeks later, the injured man was in court suing the driver. The driver's lawyer was questioning the injured man: "Isn't it true that after the accident you told my client, the defendant, that you never felt better in your life?"

The injured man replied: "Well, you see, I was walking along the road with my dog and donkey when..."

"JUST answer the question." interrupted the lawyer.

"Well, I was walking with my dog and donkey when..." the injured man attempted to continue his story.

"YOUR HONOR, please instruct the witness to answer the question, 'yes or no'."

The judge was curious about what the man had to say and instructed the lawyer to let him speak.

"Thank you your honor," replied the man, and he continued his story:

"I was walking along the road with my dog and donkey when this man drove up behind us and knocked us all in a ditch. We three lay there injured and suffering when the man pulled over, opened his trunk and pulled out a shotgun. He went to my dog and saw that he was bleeding to death so he shot him. He went to my donkey and saw that it had a broken leg, so he shot it. Then he stood over me with his gun and asked how I was feeling. I said that I never felt better in my life."

When you take the text out of context, you are left with a con.

- posted by -g @ 8:16 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

Wednesday, September 01, 2004
"Greetings! Greetings! I've been in one place too long."

- posted by Allie @ 9:14 PM | | 0 rocks in pond

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