Submit an Article | Bookmarked Articles
Viewing Articles About Life - Page 1
| Mass Murders: An American Phenomenon | January 14, 2013, 8:55PM |
 by: Analiethia |
|
This is a consultation with a colleague... A young man kills 20 children and 6 adults in a town in Connecticut. But why? I have worked with many of my colleagues and listens to killers as an expert psychological witness in murder cases, I have spent a lot of my time over the last few years trying to understand how and why young men and women kill, maim, and attack others. The mass murders like those in Connecticut, Colorado, Virginia are followed by shock, anger, and sadness. These are understandable first- hand reactions, but in the long run they accomplish nothing. As long as the discussion does not move beyond labeling these events "senseless violence," horrors like these, we will never move us closer to a place of deeper understanding. A greater understanding is crucial here, because understanding leads to more peace and less violence through preventive action. All the crime scene investigations in the world will not do this. Although all our instincts urge us to dissociate from the killer, achieving better understanding requires us to put ourselves in his or her shoes no matter how frightening and distasteful that may be, that my friends is why I did what I did with that unsavory woman. I have done this over the past few years, and I have learned that it is the only way we can understand a fundamental truth: Although to the rest of us, the observers and the victims, extreme acts of violence seem "senseless," these murderous acts make sense to the shooters. This is true whether it be Adam Lanza in Newtown, Connecticut; James Holmes in Aurora, Colorado; Seung-Hui at Virginia Tech; Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris in Columbine, Colorado, and the thousands of others who wage war against their society, either in the form of high-profile massacres, or the daily grind of shootings around the country that barely make the local news. How do we go about this process of "making sense?" Do not confuse this as a way of excusing it, but rather as a path to understanding and preventing violence. We start by recognizing that many young Americans (and other young people around the world) develop and carry with them a kind of moral damage, which some have come to call "the war zone mentality." No matter how it develops, they grow up with a damaged sense of reality. They view the world as if they are soldiers confronting a hostile environment that they perceive to be full of enemies. An example of that behavior being that they record everyone they speak with. Once they get fixated with their skewed world view, they may hatch the delusion that even teachers, and young children are their enemies. For Adam Lanza, apparently even his mother was an enemy who had to be destroyed. There is no one cause. It is as if they are building a tower of blocks, one by one, that can get so high the blocks fall over, with innocent people dying. Some examples of these building blocks can be found in dangerous neighborhoods, or schools rife with bullying. They can be found throughout the Internet and mass media. there are many, many web sites and videos that promote paranoid views of the world, and validate violent action in retaliation. This site being one on that list. You can find them in the pervasive and intense playing of video games, with the hands-on virtual violence that desensitizes young people to proxy killing. These games have become a psychological pathway to real killing by dampening impulses of compassion and altruism. The blocks can also come from a culture that supports access to lethal weapons. As many states have little to no gun control the crazy availability of guns like the Bushmaster semi-automatic rifle used by Adam Lanza that are, in effect, weapons of mass destruction when turned against children at school, or moviegoers in a theater or shoppers at a mall have cost countless lives. These weapons have no place in the hands of mentally unsound civilians. Moral damage and a misperception of reality, usually, are not enough to lead to murder. The typical killer is emotionally damaged and has developed mental health problems, perhaps exacerbated by being bullied and rejected by peers, or abused and neglected at home. He or she might be suffering from profound sadness, depression, despair, self aggrandizement and narcissism. The mental health problems that result from emotional damage require more, not less, social support, and not just from parents, who may be overwhelmed and ashamed of their offspring. The children and young men and women can be socially isolated because their damage makes peers and the community turn away from them, and that only compounds their problems. Couple deluded thinking and rage with the rationale of the war zone mentality, and the result can be a boy or young man ready to kill, sometimes with horribly spectacular results. This is more commonly seen in the "routine" killings that I consult on as a psychological expert witness in murder cases across the country. The crucial point is that even "crazy" people operate in a particular culture, a particular society, a particular time and place, and within a certain world view of how to manage your rage, your hurt, and your sadness. While not uniquely American (it has happened in recent years in Europe and the Middle East), the mass murder that took place in Newtown, Connecticut, is especially an American trait. Our increasingly socially toxic culture promotes paranoia, desensitization to violence, almost unlimited access to lethal weapons, opportunities to practice mass murder via realistic "point and shoot" video games, and games that justify violence as a legitimate form of vengeance in pursuit of an individual's or group's idea of justice. That begs the question, what do we do? We can improve mental health services in schools and communities, and discourage bullies by supporting the ones being bullied even if you don't like them. Many parents are frustrated that there is nowhere to go with their troubled kids. We can work harder at getting kids to share disturbing information with adults with the confident expectation that those adults will help not punish and stigmatize. We can get behind efforts to increase screening for people that wish to purchase guns. We can step up efforts to prevent kids from having access to the point-and-shoot violent video games. We can work harder at creating emotionally safe schools where bullying and rejection are antithetical to school spirit. We can do the same for online sites as well. One part of this is teaching boys that being compassionate and emotionally expressive is part of manhood in the 21st century. If we don't help, there will be more dead and wounded. It has become an American phenomenon, and an epidemic. Only by getting close to killers and finding out what we need to do to integrate troubled youths and young adults into society do we have any hope of preventing more carnage. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [78 comments] |
|
| Suicide... | August 18, 2012, 5:59AM |
by: Analiethia |
|
http://www.singsnap.com/karaoke/e/b88f78014 There is a lot to be said here, but where to start? It's that time of year again when I am reminded of those people that are no longer in my life because they chose not to be and all sorts of emotions are coming up. Sadness, grief, anger, that's a big one, and a very small detached part of me is laughing crazily at them for being so stupid. Perhaps they just wanted to be sure they had the last word. I have mixed views on this because I been on both sides of the coin here. I understand why a lot of people do it, and yet I also hold contempt for those that do. I am reminded of The Sunset Limited as I write this. I hate how people that do this don't realize it effects everyone around them, or do and that just adds to their reasoning behind it. It's so selfish! I wonder what they could have been... I sometimes blame myself for not seeing the signs. I wonder if I had been there would things have went down that way? All but one were drug related in some way. And that brings me to another issue I have but I'll get to that later. The one that wasn't drug related was the sister of the one that started the whole thing. She walked in on her brother's dead body after she missed a phone call from him about 30 minutes before he did it. The others, while drugs were a common theme, it was a combination of that and the first suicide that started the chain reaction. She blamed herself for it then then next one for her and so on... This is why these things happen in groups because when you do this you hurt people deeply, at least the one's that care about you. I went to 9 funerals in as many months, for that very reason. I miss them so much, part of me hates them for it though. I wonder if they had called me before hand would I have made a difference, or like his sister would I just have joined him? I wonder if he/they had just passed out instead of staying awake would he/they have felt the same in the morning? Drugs warp your mind, and things become duller with some and others become more intense. So if you are on drugs and are thinking about killing yourself sleep on it. Things may not be better in the morning, but at least you'll have a clear head to consider every possibility before you make that final choice. So you were dumped, the world still moves forward. So you were raped and it is terrible but if you kill yourself because of it your rapist wins. You are being beaten fight back, or get out of there. There are many people that will help you with that. So you are being picked on, big deal everyone gets picked on, it sucks I know, but your best bet is to just use it as fuel to achieve greatness and rub it in their faces later. You die that's it for you, but everyone around you is left with your mess. I'm sure this part will ruffle some feathers, but I don't care... I am sick of people coming to me saying they are going to kill themselves just to hurt me, but have no intention in following through. I'm okay with being there for people when they are feeling that bad, but if you are doing it just for attention, then don't call me. Cutters are the worst, they never intend to kill themselves they just want attention, it's sick. Why don't you try getting positive attention or is that too hard for you? Emotional vampires is all they are, sucking you dry, then moving onto their next victim when you've had enough of their routine. Don't be their swan. Anyway, I'm tired so let me finish by saying what I said in the video. Suicide effects everyone around you and the effects are devastating. So if you think you will hurt someone by doing it, then you just found a reason to live. Someone cares about you. Thanks, ~Ana | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [9 comments] |
|
| Peer Deterioration Makes For Peer Determination | December 8, 2010, 8:16AM |
 by: Youngster_Joey |
|
Movies today portray high schools as a watering hole for students acted out by suave looking twenty-two-year-old actors and actresses. You have your jocks, your preps, your overly-nice, overly-quiet normal kids. Your band nerds, dramatic speech-giving theater peeps, your thugs, your geeks, and that one cool teacher that will let you bend the rules while still teaching you a moral lesson to be learned in life who will eventually be fired but then brought back through popular demand. But what makes this far-too-cliche high school so different from our own? The nerd doesn't get the prettiest girl in the whole school, score a fat sack, get at least one high five from the most athletic guy in the there-is-way-too-many-lockers-in-this hallway, find White Castle, and doesn't move up the bar in his popularity ladder. In the movie, the nerd always prevails. Therefore, people tend to brush off reality. In middle school, I was the subject of much verbal abuse. I was young, chubby, more nonathletic than a lava lamp, and puberty had just discovered me faster than Bill Gates makes a million and was less reluctant to let go than Rose Calvert when the Titanic sank. By the time I reached eighth grade, I was used to taunts like Pizza Face, Beaver Teeth, and Cousin It (because my hair was down to my waist and constantly covered my face). Just before I left middle school for good, my class couldn't help but push forth the urge to embarrass me in front of my peers one last time. As I fell asleep during the quarterly exam, the student behind me cleverly placed a pencil eraser into the crack of my buttocks. While this is all fun and games, imagine how I felt waking up to a class of twenty-six students laughing at how funny an eraser is sticking out of my crack while I sleep. Okay, I understand, it's still a little bit funny. Even for me now, I can't help but stifle a snicker, but at that moment, that eraser was a reminder that middle school was a food chain and I was at the bottom of it. Middle school is the worst. Children are at the age where they have just realized they need to seek approval from other peers, guided by movie cliches to strive to have the biggest sleepover or the coolest Air Force Ones and they'll say just about anything for the attention. The thing about middle school bullying is the bully isn't intentionally trying to make that person hurt on the inside. What they want is a reaction from the people around them. They want their peers to laugh at the awful joke they made and have people acknowledge how witty they are. Even in this situation: Becky asks Kyle out to the school dance, but Kyle is dating Ashley. Ashley finds out. Now she has a personal vendetta against Becky for trying to hit on her boyfriend. Every time she sees Becky in the hallway, she taunts her by throwing things at her and calling her a slut. While Ashley may be trying to hurt Becky's feelings, she's also trying to prove a point. "I am a bad ass bitch. Don't fuck with my man." She wants the acknowledgment for her actions and is using Becky as a lesson to be learned. To me, middle school bullying was normal. It was the chain of command that I conquered in high school. After puberty finally reared its ugly head, I shone my bright and shiny mirror against it and it look one look at itself and vanquished into the stone statue that was the reminder of my hurt. After the graduation of middle school, I put down anyone who was smaller and weaker. My taunts were funny and the class had its approval. That was until the day I met Rebbecca. Rebbecca was the new girl who had just moved from Tennessee. She was awkwardly skinny with a pointy chin and acne had struck her at a terrible time in her life. Her first day of school, she sat next to me on the bus and plugged in her headphones and asked me what kind of music I liked. I turned my nose up at her taste of garbage metal bands but continued on my casual chit-chat of things like internet, poetry, and parties. See, the thing about nerdy kids is that they're always easy to make fun of when someone is around. But we both lived in the same small town forty minutes from school that had a total population of zip. For a whole forty minutes or so, Rebbecca was assigned to sit next to me alone. With no one around to hear my taunts, my heart just wasn't in it. To make matters worse, she became my lab partner due to a seating arrangement in my science class. Not only did I have to sit next to her for an hour and twenty minutes on a bus route, but now spend an extra forty minutes talking to her about a subject I sucked at and she prevailed in. I started to talk to her regularly. I didn't stick up for her when my other class mates would start to poke fun at her, but I didn't make my move to join in their reindeer games for fear of never finishing my science homework and facing an awkward ride home. Instead, I would copy her answers while she wrote in her dairy at our lab table. The weird thing about Rebbecca is that she always took her diary and hid it into the small crevice under our table, but I never bothered to read it. Now wait, I promise this story will bring clarity to the point I am going to make. One day, Rebbecca's awkward personality jolted from her body and wreaked havoc on my La-La Land. While riding the bus, Rebbecca would always get on after me, but in the afternoon, I would get off the bus before her. Due to the bus route and the town equaling no more than sixty square feet, we both had a decent idea of where the other lived. In fact, we lived less than two miles apart. As I was exiting the bus one day, Rebbecca casually points to my home and asks, "Is that where you live?" At the time, I gave it no thought, shrugged my backpack onto my shoulders and replied, "Yeah, that house right there." My nightmare began. Mom was making macaroni and cheese with fried chicken. My grandparents were seated around the table playing Uno. I was watching the television when my doorbell rang. It had been at least an hour since I had walked off the school bus, which apparently, was enough time for Rebbecca to walk all the way to my house. My mom had that very disappointed tone that says in that motherly way, "You shouldn't invite people to dinner without telling me because I didn't make enough." Needless to say, it was awkward timing. "Lee, would you please fix your friend a plate of food. It's polite," my mom would say. I would reply, "Uh, um, yeah. Uh...what do you...uh, eat?" Rebbecca took two servings of everything at once and my mother gave me more disapproving glares, as if I were the one taking two servings instead. After a minute or two, the atmosphere relaxed and my elders began to carry on a conversation about politics. For the life of me, I can't remember what was said to this day that made Rebbecca jump up from my dinner table, but I know something my family said upset her. Upset her so bad that she jumped up from the table and stormed at full speed to my front door. Unfortunately for Rebbecca, she forgot about the full-glass door and ran full-steam-ahead into it, nearly knocking herself unconscious. After picking herself up from the floor, she proceeded to open the door and take off running down the street. My family sat in silence for a good ten minutes before my mother calmly said, "Lee, please don't invite your friends over anymore. Thank you," and took a dainty bite of her food. Needless to say, I was embarrassed of Rebbecca's actions. Our bus rides grew quiet. I started to do my own science home work. In secret, I would whisper to my friends how strange she was and how she just randomly showed up to my house. It didn't take long for the story to travel. Soon, Rebbecca became the target of humiliation as students would say, "Watch out. There's a door there, Rebbecca" or "Hey, are you gonna walk to my house, too?" All the fingers pointed back to me. Rebbecca dug herself further into her diary during science class. It only got worse as the school tried to save money by car pooling the smaller routes on the short bus and Rebbecca had to ride first class all the way to school with the mentally unfit. Then one day, Rebbecca just stopped showing up. Rumors were that her parents had suddenly moved her back to Tennessee. During science class, I sat alone at my large lab table. I gave up on doing my work and would idly stare at the window and push gum wads under my desk. As I took out my large wad of Big Red and pressed them under the table, I felt my fingers brush the edges of a spiral notebook. Rebbecca's diary. In which I will give you the honor of reading a piece or two she wrote about me and others things because I've kept it all these years: "Journal, (September 10th, 2006) This move really sucks. Today I unpacked all my clothes and my computer. The internet isn't set up at our house yet so I printed off some neat pages to put in the front of my binders for school. The girl I sit next to seems pretty cool. She has her lip pierced and she's only fifteen. My parents would never let me do anything like that, but as soon as I turn eighteen, they can't tell me what to do." "Journal, (September 12th, 2006) The girl I six next to on the bus is my lab partner is science. We had to pick partners today, and since I was sitting next to her, we got paired together. She doesn't really do anything, but she always telling other classmates that physical science doesn't apply to her because she's isn't going to grow up to teach it." "Dear Journal, (September 20th, 2006) I hate gym class and that it's required in able to graduate. These preppy girls were asking me what I do to make my hair so pretty, but after they started laughing, I realized they were making fun of me. I hope at some point, they have kids who are really ugly and they feel bad about ever making fun of someone. (Later that day:) Kid stuck gum in my hair. Mom had to cut five inches off to make it even. I really hate this school." "October (no date listed) I just want to die." "October 18th, 2006 I was feeling upset, but Heather made a joke about how Mr. Gordon's wife washed his whites with his colored and now he has to wear pink socks. I think that's his excuse. Hahaha. Made me feel better for a little bit." "Journal, October 19th, 2006 I went to go visit Heather today, but they were busy eating. I got really upset when her stepdad said something about construction failing due to Mexican immigration. I think this country was found on immigration, so it's only fair. I think she hates me now." "October 28th, 2006 Heather told some people about what happened, but she made it seem like I stalked her or something, so now people just make fun of me and they don't even know why I left her house. She's quiet in science class now. Kind of feel like I lost a friend, but I am used to this rejection." After reading her journal, I remembered the remorse and rejection I went through in middle school. I remembered the struggle for my peer's acceptance, and just trying to feel like I belong in a crowd of people, and while trying to do that, I had alienated someone who was striving for the same thing. I had ultimately become the bully and I was feeling pretty crappy about it. I was the reason she was crying herself to sleep at night, even though my simple action was so small in itself. Two years later, I'm sitting next to a boy named Josh in English class. He is slightly overweight and smells of Jell-O Pudding packs. He has the misfortune of his body fat giving him sagging breasts. We're discussing what we're doing for the weekend when we hear a snicker a few desks from us. I can hear one of the boy's discussing Josh's weight and loudly referring to his fat as "tits" and "manboobs". Josh's eyes fall to his desk. It is middle school all over again. "Hey, aren't you guys a little too old to be making fun of people anymore? Grow up." I saw Josh smile. I could hardly believe the words had left my mouth, but the satisfaction was more than I could ever receive from making fun of someone. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [20 comments] |
|
| Is there such a thing as free will? | November 1, 2010, 7:55PM |
 by: XxkrimsonxangelxX |
|
I think not. If there was a thing as free will,why would we ask others for there adive? Free will is exactly what its called,FREE WILL. Think about it,other peoples opinions factor in to make our decisions,that alter our thoughts,an change what we want sometimes. We do not have free will,because society tells us what we can,and cannot do. Are parents control every aspect of our lives until we are 18. And are friends,there opinions change the way we think about doing things. In modern day America,the man is the one that purposes,correct? an if a female does it,its frowned upon,but if we have free will,why cant we as women,ask the man we love to marry us? Its frowned upon that a girl asks a boy out,if its not for the sadie hawkens dance at school? is that not controling our Free will? Making marjuana illegal,thats controlling are free will right? its a natraul herb,that when it drys it is able to be smoked,but since they cant tax it,they make it illegal. homosexuality is frowned upon,an that isnt a choice,you are born like that, an people try an control who are sexual partners are,who we love who we wanna be with. if we really do have free will as the bible says we do,why is it everything controls us,controls what we do,alters us? why cant we love unconditionally,marry who we want,do what we want,an not have people frown upon us? do you believe there is free will? | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [3 comments] |
|
| Ostara | March 18, 2010, 2:32PM |
 by: ILLmortal |
|
Now comes the Spring Equinox / Ostara / Vernal Equinox, and the season of Spring reaches it's apex, halfway through its journey from Candlemas to Beltane. Once again, night and day stand in perfect balance, with the powers of light on the ascendancy. The god of light now wins a victory over his twin, the god of darkness. In the Mabinogion myth reconstruction which I have proposed, this is the day on which the restored Llew takes his vengeance on Goronwy by piercing him with the sunlight spear. For Llew was restored/reborn at the Winter Solstice and is now well/old enough to vanquish his rival/twin and mate with his lover/mother. And the great Mother Goddess, who has returned to her Virgin aspect at Candlemas, welcomes the young sun god's embraces and conceives a child. The child will be born nine months from now, at the next Winter Solstice. And so the cycle closes at last. We think that the customs surrounding the celebration of the spring equinox were imported from Mediterranean lands, although there can be no doubt that the first inhabitants of the British Isles observed it, as evidence from megalithic sites shows. But it was certainly more popular to the south, where people celebrated the holiday as New Year's Day, and claimed it as the first day of the first sign of the Zodiac, Aries. However you look at it, it is certainly a time of new beginnings, as a simple glance at Nature will prove. In the Roman Catholic Church, there are two holidays which get mixed up with the Vernal Equinox. The first, occurring on the fixed calendar day of March 25th in the old liturgical calendar, is called the Feast of the Annunciation of the Blessed Virgin Mary (or B.V.M., as she was typically abbreviated in Catholic Missals). 'Annunciation' means an announcement. This is the day that the angel Gabriel announced to Mary that she was 'in the family way'. Naturally, this had to be announced since Mary, being still a virgin, would have no other means of knowing it. (Quit scoffing, O ye of little faith!) Why did the Church pick the Vernal Equinox for the commemoration of this event? Because it was necessary to have Mary conceive the child Jesus a full nine months before his birth at the Winter Solstice (i.e., Christmas, celebrated on the fixed calendar date of December 25). Mary's pregnancy would take the natural nine months to complete, even if the conception was a bit unorthodox. As mentioned before, the older Pagan equivalent of this scene focuses on the joyous process of natural conception, when the young virgin Goddess (in this case, 'virgin' in the original sense of meaning 'unmarried') mates with the young solar God, who has just displaced his rival. This is probably not their first mating, however. In the mythical sense, the couple may have been lovers since Candlemas, when the young God reached puberty. But the young Goddess was recently a mother (at the Winter Solstice) and is probably still nursing her new child. Therefore, conception is naturally delayed for six weeks or so and, despite earlier matings with the God, She does not conceive until (surprise!) the Vernal Equinox. This may also be their Hand-fasting, a sacred marriage between God and Goddess called a Hierogamy, the ultimate Great Rite. Probably the nicest study of this theme occurs in M. Esther Harding's book, 'Woman's Mysteries'. Probably the nicest description of it occurs in M. Z. Bradley's 'Mists of Avalon', in the scene where Morgan and Arthur assume the sacred roles. (Bradley follows the British custom of transferring the episode to Beltane, when the climate is more suited to its outdoor celebration.) The other Christian holiday which gets mixed up in this is Easter. Easter, too, celebrates the victory of a god of light (Jesus) over darkness (death), so it makes sense to place it at this season. Ironically, the name 'Easter' was taken from the name of a Teutonic lunar Goddess, Eostre (from whence we also get the name of the female hormone, estrogen). Her chief symbols were the bunny (both for fertility and because her worshipers saw a hare in the full moon) and the egg (symbolic of the cosmic egg of creation), images which Christians have been hard pressed to explain. Her holiday, the Eostara, was held on the Vernal Equinox Full Moon. Of course, the Church doesn't celebrate full moons, even if they do calculate by them, so they planted their Easter on the following Sunday. Thus, Easter is always the first Sunday, after the first Full Moon, after the Vernal Equinox. If you've ever wondered why Easter moved all around the calendar, now you know. (By the way, the Catholic Church was so adamant about NOT incorporating lunar Goddess symbolism that they added a further calculation: if Easter Sunday were to fall on the Full Moon itself, then Easter was postponed to the following Sunday instead.) Incidentally, this raises another point: recently, some Pagan traditions began referring to the Vernal Equinox as Eostara. Historically, this is incorrect. Eostara is a lunar holiday, honoring a lunar Goddess, at the Vernal Full Moon. Hence, the name 'Eostara' is best reserved to the nearest Esbat, rather than the Sabbat itself. How this happened is difficult to say. However, it is notable that some of the same groups misappropriated the term 'Lady Day' for Beltane, which left no good folk name for the Equinox. Thus, Eostara was misappropriated for it, completing a chain-reaction of displacement. Needless to say, the old and accepted folk name for the Vernal Equinox is 'Lady Day'. Christians sometimes insist that the title is in honor of Mary and her Annunciation, but Pagans will smile knowingly. Another mythological motif which must surely arrest our attention at this time of year is that of the descent of the God or Goddess into the Underworld. Perhaps we see this most clearly in the Christian tradition. Beginning with his death on the cross on Good Friday, it is said that Jesus 'descended into hell' for the three days that his body lay entombed. But on the third day (that is, Easter Sunday), his body and soul rejoined, he arose from the dead and ascended into heaven. By a strange 'coincidence', most ancient Pagan religions speak of the Goddess descending into the Underworld, also for a period of three days. Why three days? If we remember that we are here dealing with the lunar aspect of the Goddess, the reason should be obvious. As the text of one Book of Shadows gives it, '...as the moon waxes and wanes, and walks three nights in darkness, so the Goddess once spent three nights in the Kingdom of Death.' In our modern world, alienated as it is from nature, we tend to mark the time of the New Moon (when no moon is visible) as a single date on a calendar. We tend to forget that the moon is also hidden from our view on the day before and the day after our calendar date. But this did not go unnoticed by our ancestors, who always speak of the Goddess's sojourn into the land of Death as lasting for three days. Is it any wonder then, that we celebrate the next Full Moon (the Eostara) as the return of the Goddess from chthonic regions? Naturally, this is the season to celebrate the victory of life over death, as any nature-lover will affirm. And the Christian religion was not misguided by celebrating Christ's victory over death at this same season. Nor is Christ the only solar hero to journey into the underworld. King Arthur, for example, does the same thing when he sets sail in his magical ship, Prydwen, to bring back precious gifts (i.e. the gifts of life) from the Land of the Dead, as we are told in the 'Mabinogi'. Welsh triads allude to Gwydion and Amaethon doing much the same thing. In fact, this theme is so universal that mythologists refer to it by a common phrase, 'the harrowing of hell'. However, one might conjecture that the descent into hell, or the land of the dead, was originally accomplished, not by a solar male deity, but by a lunar female deity. It is Nature Herself who, in Spring, returns from the Underworld with her gift of abundant life. Solar heroes may have laid claim to this theme much later. The very fact that we are dealing with a three-day period of absence should tell us we are dealing with a lunar, not solar, theme. (Although one must make exception for those occasional MALE lunar deities, such as the Assyrian god, Sin.) At any rate, one of the nicest modern renditions of the harrowing of hell appears in many Books of Shadows as 'The Descent of the Goddess'. Lady Day may be especially appropriate for the celebration of this theme, whether by storytelling, reading, or dramatic re-enactment. For modern Witches, Lady Day is one of the Lesser Sabbats or Low Holidays of the year, one of the four quarter-days. And what date will Witches choose to celebrate? They may choose the traditional folk 'fixed' date of March 25th, starting on its Eve. Or they may choose the actual equinox point, when the Sun crosses the Equator and enters the astrological sign of Aries. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [5 comments] |
|
| Is it out of reach? | January 2, 2010, 3:19PM |
 by: Faith_Dissipates |
|
I was talking to someone online and the question surfaced "is it out of reach", "do you really think you have a chance of ever achieving your goal", "it's impossible." My goal: to change the world. To change society, to make an impact. It sounds crazy, I know. But one day, I will have a plan. I am aware of the fact that the Utopian dream is unachievable, it is impossible. Apparent "perfection" does not occur in nature. And Brave New World was the perfect example as to how perfection, is impossible. I do not want everyone to be like me, I do not think that I'm perfect I have flaws, everyone has flaws. But one's perception of flaws differs at times from that of another; which is why society can never be "perfect". Everyone's perception of perfection differs. But one of the things I wish to change is the fact that these flaws that people possess instead of being accepted are exploited. People need to be more accepting of other people. People should care more about other people, their lives shouldn't be nearly as self-centered. A simple ways to show people you care through your actions is holding the door for the person behind you. When someone falls, it should be instinctual to extend your hand to them to try to help them up. Instead of pretending that they don't see them and walking by. People will always be judgmental, we are judged by actions but before they even see our actions we are judged by appearances. We are stereotyped. Everyone wants to fit a certain criteria. And the few who chose to rebel are instantaneously rejected by the static. Don't be the static, be the song and play it clear. Life is short, it's not meant to be lived in hatred or discrimination but in love and acceptance. So don't take anything or anyone for granted because it could all be taken away in the matter of an instance. But the real reason I wrote this was to make you know not to give up on your dreams, even if everyone is putting you down for it. Fight the static. And if you intentions are questioned, speak up. I don't know if I will ever change the world, but I will never know until I try. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [1 comment] |
|
| 11:11 | April 13, 2009, 11:46AM |
 by: Sean T. |
|
11:11. Something you may have heard of, read about, or experienced from time to time. Most people see it on their clocks, or catch it in random places, and for the most part, it's merely a coincidence. Some people have noticed though, that over time, it starts occuring more often, happening more frequently as time passes. So too often to be considered a concidence, but more of a mystery than anything else. Some have even felt that when their life is on track, they notice 11:11 in more places, and more often, than when it isn't. There's alot of buzz to be read about the subject, and many varying opinions and stories. Some easily plausible, some not so much. Some as simple as people making wishes at 11:11, to some as strange and perplexing as 11:11 being digitally encoded into our DNA to be activated at the time of our spiritial awakening. No matter what the case, or what you may belief, this is a very real, and widely documented phenomena. There's alot to be said, but after seeing it for years, in my belief and experience, I would say that 11:11 stands for an awakening to a new path. something that I think will be triggered within many, but not everyone. I think it's going to play a signifigant roll in guiding anyone that listens. I believe there are doors that are opened at certain intervals in time, and as we move forward, we step into a new level of consciousness and understanding, and coincidences or synchrinocities start occuring more rapidly as we move forward into this awakening. Life becomes more of a cape shrouding an answer larger than anything we've ever imagined. I also believe this is beyond all religion, I would say that these numbers speak much more clearly. Religion provides guidance to those who seek it, but you don't have to accept guidance to live your own life. For some, they just believe in what they can see. 11:11 is something witnessed by many people of all backgrounds and religions. To me, 11:11 is the sign of a global change, and personally, I've been slowly awakening to this change for years. It started in 2001, not too long after the attacks on September 11th. I was 12. At first, 11:11 was something I never payed any attention to, but I did happen to notice seeing it on my clocks, and I never thought to connect it with anything. Gradually it started occuring more often. But my life came to a point where it started falling apart, I dropped out of school because of heart problems, and became extremely reclusive and depressed. Only within the past 3 years or so have I started picking the pieces back up. With this self renewal, I started seeing the numbers again, not only randomly, but I would find myself waking up at 11:11, and I would see 1111 in phone numbers and on license plates, and it seemed too strange at that point. I started researching and stumbled on to some things that completely changed the way I thought of this. At this point, I'm still learning, but I feel as though I have an understanding as to how life really works. This is why I wrote this, to inform, and guide others who may be somewhere else on this path. More information and stories about 11:11 can be found at the following sites: 11:11 @ Wikipedia -- Informational Uri Geller's 11:11 explanation -- Interesting 11:11 @ SpiritGuardians.com -- Spiritual 11:11 @ CrystalLinks.com -- A little out there :/ 11 coincidence @ GreatDreams.com -- Personal stories | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [0 comments] |
|
| We can't condemn attraction, Attraction and Action are two different things. | February 21, 2009, 6:43PM |
 by: MyLastBlkRose |
|
I have a question which will result in controversy and anger. What is the "Laws" of attraction, in a rational state of mind? The truth needs to be brought up at one point or another, correct? So if your a guy reading this right now, you were "chose to be" attracted to woman...correct? And if your a girl you were "chose to be" attracted to males, correct? Wrong. No one has chosen who to be attracted to. That’s a bunch of mislead media persuasions and societal influence. I'm a girl and I'm attracted to girls, so I ask you, does that make me a sinner? Does it make me a horrible person who will burn in hell? This isn't to make you all change your opinions on any subject I bring up right now, but It needs to be brought it up. Our society tells us who we can and can not love. It tells us what makes us horrible humans who deserve to die, and what makes us saints worthy of Heaven or what makes us acceptable in this world. I guess the point is that, why do we listen to every little thing we are told? Why do we hang on every strand that is spoken? People lie, people are persuaded, things happen and we aren’t all the same. Get used to it. We tell ourselves to listen to our parents and listen to our elders. Why do we, in all honesty? Most of the beliefs your parents have they were brought up with, and their parents before them, and so on and so forth dating back to the beginning of time when there was no such thing as an open minded, rational person. We were closed up to reality and forced into believing things that make no sense whatsoever. You can pull your religion and the bible out on me, go right ahead. I love God, and I believe in him very much, I turn to him when I need help, but the Bible isn't God, or Jesus’ spoken word. The bible was written by everyday "normal" close-minded humans. His disciples wrote the bible on how they thought Jesus would feel. Jesus himself did not right the bible, and that is a known fact. You can pull out "humane" and "normal" on me as well. Who is to say that love, no matter WHO we love, is wrong? I guess first I should bring up the topic of homosexuality, which has already been lightly discussed. The bible says "Man shall not lay down with Man" and if you do than you'll go to hell, correct? Did you know that in that same passage of the bible it later on goes on to state that if you eat shellfish than you will be damned to hell because shellfish is an abomination? Did you also know that later on in that SAME exact passage it states that children who disobey their parents shall be sentenced to death by stoning? Go ahead and tell me I'm wrong, go look it up, can’t find it, open up the Bible itself. Homosexuality was removed from the Official list of mental disorders awhile back. The reason is because some human finally came to rational senses and fought against it. There is a reason it was removed. Even if Homosexuality was still stated in that list along with Depression and anxiety, it doesn't mean you’re a horrible person. However it has been and therefore Science see's nothing wrong with it, and we do not know whether God or Jesus did either. ? Oh and if you plan on pulling out your Adam and Eve excuse now, than it brings me into my next subject, Incest. Technically if you want to go there, than we are all "related" which makes this world very incestuous. Like I have stated earlier we can’t control who we are attracted to. Should a four year old little girl be stoned and burned to death because she has become attracted to her father, or the same for the father attracted to his daughter? No, they should not. Attraction doesn't mean that you act on what you think. It's actually stated in common, but unknown knowledge that the first female attraction is to their father. It only seems normal, am I correct? If a four year old little girl wants to hug and kiss daddy, how do they know that it’s not "normal" as society would put it. Children see their parents hug and kiss in much different ways than they do with their children, and they see what their parents do as love, so who are we to condemn them? Am I saying that a man should commit sexual actions with his 4 year old daughter, NO. I'm simply stating that attraction isn't controllable. The everyday father would pull away from his daughter when she acted on her urges to kiss her daddy in the same way her mommy does, because she wants to be loved. He would explain to her that the love between mommies and daddies is different from the loves between daddies and their little girls. He would go on to explain that neither love is less or more and that he loves his little girl more than life, and that this is normal, but that it’s not okay. He would be gentle about it; he wouldn't yell or be disgusted. Of course I'm speaking of a GOOD father, one who loves their child and isn't an abusive asshole, which abusive parents are a complete other story, so lets skip over that for now -_-. This slowly leads me into the subject matter of pedophilia. Now before you sit there and think "eww, ugh they should die" let me explain. Being a pedophile does NOT make you a child molester. There is a HUGE difference, one that society likes to push to the deepest recesses of our minds. I will explain this to you. Child molesters ARE pedophiles, yes that is true, but that doesn't mean that ALL pedophiles are child molesters. Pedophilia is listed as a known mental disorder. So I ask you, if pedophile and I were standing side by side him having the disorder of pedophilia and me having my many disorders of the following, OCD, PTSD, Severe Depression and Severe Anxiety, also Borderline Personality disorder traits, and "an eating disorder" that he should be shot instead of me? Neither of us chose to be put on earth with our disorders but we also can’t do anything about them, medicine and therapy only go so far with some things. Technically I would have more problems than this supposed "horrible man" with the disorder of pedophilia, so why shouldn't I be shot and not him? Should I be beaten and raped and sent to prison, than to hell because I have these uncontrollable illnesses that I never got to decide upon having? I would certainly hope not. Pedo means "Child" in Greek, and Phile is a derivative of Latin, French and Greek meaning of "love". There for Pedophile means Child Love? How the hell is that wrong? I ADORE children, but would I ever touch them in a manner other than lovingly? NO!. I would not touch a child in a sexual way, and most Pedophiles wouldn't either. So think before you choose your side of this debate. Being attracted to a child isn't a crime, and never will be, so we must get used to it. However acting on the attraction, is and very well should be. We can NOT condemn attraction and throw people in jail for being attracted to anyone or anything. Let me share a few small pieces of my past if I may, to further explain my meaning behind a few things I'm trying to express in this "article". When I was two years old I was molested by a man named Jason and to this day I still hate him, which is very hard for me to say because I only hate two people in this world. Technically by law I was raped because there was penetration. He never went to jail because I was two, I was too afraid to say anything to the police although there was solid evidence, I was two, and what can you expect. Our government seems to sometimes be so corrupt, again that’s another story. However he did end up in prison because he didn't quit his lewd acts after he took me as his first victim. When I turned four, I'm sure I was a fairly happy little girl with a good life, except for that traumatic event in my life which I believe at that point I pushed too far for me to reach or think about. However three months after I had turned four my father passed away. He made the mistake of making a deadly cocktail of Heroin, cocaine and alcohol. It took him within hours. The only memory I have of my father that I remember currently is the day of his Memorial Service. I was dressed in all white, I looked so cute. Everyone was dressed in black and it confused me ever so much. When I saw my father I was so excited I ran over to him thinking he was only but asleep, I climbed up on the stool next to his "wooden bed" which I would later understand to be a casket, something that once you enter you don't exit. I kissed his cheek and I remember him being ever so cold. I remember thinking "Daddy is cold, I have to get him a blanket". I guess I don't need to go any further this has made my point and I don't feel like going into a mental breakdown at this very moment. Those are my first two memories, and until a bit later, about 6 or so I remember nothing of my childhood except for those two traumatic events, Trauma never ceases to brand itself into your mind. Since I can remember I have had an attraction to much older men, an attraction that almost lead me to deaths doorway. I loved to call older men daddy, mind you this was over the phone or internet because it was such a horrid time in my life. I loved how they treated me, and took care of me. I also had an attraction to pain, torture, abuse and rape. In a rational mind I might have been able to put it all together and realize it was a direct consequence of my rape and the loss of my daddy. When I finally came to grasp with the fact that I had this attraction and these urges I talked to my therapist who pieced it all together for me. A girl’s first attraction is to her daddy, and when I was two I had already been violated by lewd sexual acts. Not having my daddy around at the age that little girls first start feeling complete attraction, I had no man in my life to explain that it was wrong. The only men in my life were my mother’s boyfriends which used and abused her. These attractions lead me to some stupid things. I became terribly attracted, and I don't mean by looks to a man who was 34 at the time I was 14. He had four children whom he seemed to love dearly and treat great. He was very much interested in me as well and we talked for months, when I finally told someone about this, she was deeply concerned and helped me make a plan not to talk to this man anymore. When I told him he had said that he had my address and my last name and school name, which I never gave this information to him. It scared me because in the many months we talked he told me he would kidnap me and breed me like a bitch. This has a point, I swear! I am not saying that some pedophiles are not horrible men, I'm just simply stating that many are not. This man who targeted me at such a young age planned on taking action on his attraction, and although he had never touched an underage girl before he was going to, so I do believe some pedophiles are horrible people, like I said however MANY are NOT. I decided to write this to open up some peoples eyes to reality. And unintentionally to open their eyes to something else totally unplanned, safety when it comes to internet predators. My main point of this article would have to be... Attraction and Action are nothing alike, so think before you jump to unnecessary judgment. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [6 comments] |
|
| The Etiology of the Pyramids and Sunburns on White People | July 23, 2008, 5:31PM |
 by: quirky_one |
|
A long time ago in a galaxy very, very near here there was the Earth. Of course Earth is in our galaxy but it was named Dirt World at the time so it is kind of different. At the time (the time being the somewhat less than definitive "long time ago") humans had just finished evolving from dinosaurs and were really tired. While they lay down to take a nap, aliens came and started poking around the Earth (still at this time named "Dirt World"). They were employees of an intergalactic real estate firm looking to buy up planets that had been foreclosed on. They apparently liked what they saw because they bought it despite the price being significantly higher than they expected. Needless to say, the newly evolved humans were quite shocked to awaken to aliens moving all their stuff around. The aliens were equally surprised to find that the humans had not gotten the eviction notice. Of course Earth had gotten the notice but at the time everyone had been dinosaurs and nobody could read. The aliens, already upset at the Earth's steep price, held a meeting to decide what to about the humans. After digging up some violent dinosaur footage meant strictly for home viewing, it was deemed convenient to label them as "savages" and have them placed into reeducation camps were they would be forced to watch reruns of pro-alien films like E.T. and My Favorite Martian. The aliens couldn't have expected better results. Stephen Spielberg was nominated for best director and violent xenophobic uprisings dropped by 90%. Unfortunately the good times came to an end when a bootleg copy of Alien III fell into the human's hands. Public opinion polls showed a marked decrease in the alien approval rating. People began questioning the laser force field prisons and soon angry youths were throwing rocks and calling the aliens hurtful names. Meanwhile, intellectuals huddled in coffee shops and wrote petition letters to the ISCS (redundantly named "The Intergalactic Space Congress of Space" in true bureaucratic style). The letters didn't seem to have any effect and the authors got old and died. Tensions continued to get worse and soon human forces under the command of Dan Quail's distant ancestor, Steve Quail, drove the aliens from the Earth (now no longer named Dirt World but actually named Earth). In response, the hard line intergalactic government under pressure from real-estate special interest groups launched an invasion fleet to Earth. The original name of the operation was dropped by the administration in fear that "Operation Earth Smash" gave the mission an overtly aggressive feel. The newly named "Operation Earth Hug" deployed on Stardate <*<>* (which admittedly means very little to anyone who doesn't run on Northern Quadrant Sector 5112A Standard Time). Congress however only approved a single landing zone just west of the Nile River. Having found this information by looking at the ISCS's user friendly website, the human decided to build up defenses in the area. After reviewing several promising designs, a brilliant defense was selected. The pyramid provided a perfect anti-landing device and humans began building them all over the useless alien landing strip now called Egypt. When the aliens arrived and tried to land, the pyramids kept poking the bottom of their spaceships. It was very frustrating. They sent an appeal to the Intergalactic Space Congress of Space for a new landing zone but by the time the Bylotar Opposition Party exhausted its filibuster, their attempt at landing in central Mexico had been thwarted as well. On Stardate <*<<* Grommela Purgonotte, the first female Fishmander to become President, came to power. It had generally been forgotten that a Starfleet had continually circled Earth (still often referred to as "Dirt World" in a derogatory sense) for over a thousand years. The gas prices at the time induced severe budget cuts and the fleet was recalled. After several days of drunken street celebrations, mankind received its many political prisoners who had been held on Pluto for around eighty generations. The result however was a gangly race with a pale, snow-like complexion. The new arrivals found that rather than returning to a glorious homecoming, they were made fun of by their peers. As if that was not enough, the sun that had provided their ancestors with sustenance now burnt their skin and turned it unattractive shades of red. They appealed to a now much more sympathetic ISCS which granted them compensation for their unjust treatment and minimal exposure to sunlight as part of "alternative interrogating techniques". The ghostly white humans received an oddly timed outpouring of alien sympathy because the now two thousand year old "laser force field prison notes" that had only recently been leaked to the press. The result was that whites in return for their suffering were given three eternal gifts: sunscreen, really big shade hats, and Europe. Of course the Palestinians who were given a small arid region along the Mediterranean in return for the Continent were not pleased but they were given strong assurances that their new home would remain theirs forever. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [14 comments] |
|
| To quote George Carlin.. | July 4, 2008, 1:56PM |
 by: mainstream |
|
George Carlin on religion. "When it comes to bullshit, big-time, major league bullshit, you have to stand in awe of the all-time champion of false promises and exaggerated claims, religion. No contest. No contest. Religion. Religion easily has the greatest bullshit story ever told. Think about it. Religion has actually convinced people that there's an invisible man living in the sky who watches everything you do, every minute of every day. And the invisible man has a special list of ten things he does not want you to do. And if you do any of these ten things, he has a special place, full of fire and smoke and burning and torture and anguish, where he will send you to live and suffer and burn and choke and scream and cry forever and ever 'til the end of time! But He loves you. He loves you, and He needs money! He always needs money! He's all-powerful, all-perfect, all-knowing, and all-wise, somehow just can't handle money! Religion takes in billions of dollars, they pay no taxes, and they always need a little more. Now, you talk about a good bullshit story. Holy Shit! But I want you to know something, this is sincere, I want you to know, when it comes to believing in God, I really tried. I really, really tried. I tried to believe that there is a God, who created each of us in His own image and likeness, loves us very much, and keeps a close eye on things. I really tried to believe that, but I gotta tell you, the longer you live, the more you look around, the more you realize, something is fucked up. Something is wrong here. War, disease, death, destruction, hunger, filth, poverty, torture, crime, corruption, and the Ice Capades. Something is definitely wrong. This is not good work. If this is the best God can do, I am not impressed. Results like these do not belong on the résumé of a Supreme Being. This is the kind of shit you'd expect from an office temp with a bad attitude. And just between you and me, in any decently-run universe, this guy would've been out on his all-powerful ass a long time ago. And by the way, I say "this guy", because I firmly believe, looking at these results, that if there is a God, it has to be a man. No woman could or would ever fuck things up like this. So, if there is a God, I think most reasonable people might agree that he's at least incompetent, and maybe, just maybe, doesn't give a shit. Doesn't give a shit, which I admire in a person, and which would explain a lot of these bad results. So rather than be just another mindless religious robot, mindlessly and aimlessly and blindly believing that all of this is in the hands of some spooky incompetent father figure who doesn't give a shit, I decided to look around for something else to worship. Something I could really count on. And immediately, I thought of the sun. Happened like that. Overnight I became a sun-worshipper. Well, not overnight, you can't see the sun at night. But first thing the next morning, I became a sun-worshipper. Several reasons. First of all, I can see the sun, okay? Unlike some other gods I could mention, I can actually see the sun. I'm big on that. If I can see something, I don't know, it kind of helps the credibility along, you know? So everyday I can see the sun, as it gives me everything I need; heat, light, food, flowers in the park, reflections on the lake, an occasional skin cancer, but hey. At least there are no crucifixions, and we're not setting people on fire simply because they don't agree with us. Sun worship is fairly simple. There's no mystery, no miracles, no pageantry, no one asks for money, there are no songs to learn, and we don't have a special building where we all gather once a week to compare clothing. And the best thing about the sun, it never tells me I'm unworthy. Doesn't tell me I'm a bad person who needs to be saved. Hasn't said an unkind word. Treats me fine. So, I worship the sun. But, I don't pray to the sun. Know why? I wouldn't presume on our friendship. It's not polite. I've often thought people treat God rather rudely, don't you? Asking trillions and trillions of prayers every day. Asking and pleading and begging for favors. Do this, gimme that, I need a new car, I want a better job. And most of this praying takes place on Sunday His day off. It's not nice. And it's no way to treat a friend. But people do pray, and they pray for a lot of different things, you know, your sister needs an operation on her crotch, your brother was arrested for defecating in a mall. But most of all, you'd really like to fuck that hot little redhead down at the convenience store. You know, the one with the eyepatch and the clubfoot? Can you pray for that? I think you'd have to. And I say, fine. Pray for anything you want. Pray for anything, but what about the Divine Plan? Remember that? The Divine Plan. Long time ago, God made a Divine Plan. Gave it a lot of thought, decided it was a good plan, put it into practice. And for billions and billions of years, the Divine Plan has been doing just fine. Now, you come along, and pray for something. Well suppose the thing you want isn't in God's Divine Plan? What do you want Him to do? Change His plan? Just for you? Doesn't it seem a little arrogant? It's a Divine Plan. What's the use of being God if every run-down shmuck with a two-dollar prayerbook can come along and fuck up Your Plan? And here's something else, another problem you might have: Suppose your prayers aren't answered. What do you say? "Well, it's God's will." "Thy Will Be Done." Fine, but if it's God's will, and He's going to do what He wants to anyway, why the fuck bother praying in the first place? Seems like a big waste of time to me! Couldn't you just skip the praying part and go right to His Will? It's all very confusing. So to get around a lot of this, I decided to worship the sun. But, as I said, I don't pray to the sun. You know who I pray to? Joe Pesci. Two reasons: First of all, I think he's a good actor, okay? To me, that counts. Second, he looks like a guy who can get things done. Joe Pesci doesn't fuck around. In fact, Joe Pesci came through on a couple of things that God was having trouble with. For years I asked God to do something about my noisy neighbor with the barking dog, Joe Pesci straightened that cocksucker out with one visit. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a simple baseball bat. So I've been praying to Joe for about a year now. And I noticed something. I noticed that all the prayers I used to offer to God, and all the prayers I now offer to Joe Pesci, are being answered at about the same 50% rate. Half the time I get what I want, half the time I don't. Same as God, 50-50. Same as the four-leaf clover and the horseshoe, the wishing well and the rabbit's foot, same as the Mojo Man, same as the Voodoo Lady who tells you your fortune by squeezing the goat's testicles, it's all the same: 50-50. So just pick your superstition, sit back, make a wish, and enjoy yourself. And for those of you who look to The Bible for moral lessons and literary qualities, I might suggest a couple of other stories for you. You might want to look at the Three Little Pigs, that's a good one. Has a nice happy ending, I'm sure you'll like that. Then there's Little Red Riding Hood, although it does have that X-rated part where the Big Bad Wolf actually eats the grandmother. Which I didn't care for, by the way. And finally, I've always drawn a great deal of moral comfort from Humpty Dumpty. The part I like the best? "All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back together again." That's because there is no Humpty Dumpty, and there is no God. None, not one, no God, never was. In fact, I'm gonna put it this way. If there is a God, may he strike this audience dead! See? Nothing happened. Nothing happened? Everybody's okay? All right, tell you what, I'll raise the stakes a little bit. If there is a God, may he strike me dead. See? Nothing happened, oh, wait, I've got a little cramp in my leg. And my balls hurt. Plus, I'm blind. I'm blind, oh, now I'm okay again, must have been Joe Pesci, huh? God Bless Joe Pesci. Thank you all very much. Joe Bless You! " -George Carlin, 1937-2008. | |
topic: Life | |
[reply] [6 comments] |
|
| pages: 1
2
3
4
next
|