FUCK humility. I get damn sick of people wanting other people to feel humility. It's like that asshole that wrote to me recently after so many years and wondered if I remembered him. Then when I don't fawn all over him, and am just polite, sends me a nasty reply reminding me of my age, and that I'm showing my age, and all kinds of shit just to make me feel some humility because his sorry ass didn't get a big hoorah from me. Well excuse my grits, mr. stupidass, if I was all that worthless why did you bother looking me up just so you could say something mean? I had just visited a very good friend who was dying in much pain, and then did die, and here you come, with your stupid accusations, following me all over the internet, and wanting to talk about romance. Romance sucks. That's how I see it, mainly because of people like you, who give it a bad damn name. I think this belongs in the romance thread? Have I messed up? Have I had a bad day, or a bad week or a fucking bad month? Yes. I believe I have. How much more humility must one have in one's life? Would be fucking nice to know.
That was an extremely wonderful rant, worthy of Samuel Beckett.
Your story reminds me of the following passage:
>>"I remember a mini-paradigm shift I experienced one Sunday morning on a subway in New York. People were sitting quietly - some reading newspapers, some lost in thought, some resting with their eyes closed. It was a calm, peaceful scene.
Then suddenly, a man and his children entered the subway car. The children were so loud and rambunctious that instantly the whole climate changed.
The man sat down to next to me and closed his eyes, apparently oblivious to the situation. The children were yelling back and forth, throwing things, even grabbing people's papers. It was very disturbing. And yet, the man sitting next to me did nothing.
It was difficult not to feel irritated. I could not believe that he could be so insensitive as to let his children run wild like that and do nothing about it, taking no responsibility at all. It was easy to see that everyone else on the subway felt irritated, too. So finally, with what I felt was unusual patience and restraint, I turned to him and said, "Sir, your children are really disturbing a lot of people. I wonder if you couldn't control them a little more.?"
The man lifted his gaze as if to come to a consciousness of the situation for the first time and said softly, "Oh, you're right. I guess I should do something about it. We just came from the hospital where their mother died about an hour ago. I don't know what to think, and I guess they don't know how to handle it."
Can you tell imagine what I felt at that moment? My paradigm shifted. Suddenly I saw things differently, and because I saw things differently, I thought differently, I felt differently, I behaved differently. My irritation vanished. I didn't have to worry about controlling my attitude or my behavior; my heart was filled with the man's pain. Feelings of sympathy and compassion flowed freely. "You're wife just died? Oh, I'm so sorry! can you tell me about it? What can I do to help?" Everything changed in an instant.
In the words of Thoreau, "For every thousand hacking at the leaves of evil, there is one striking at the root." We can only achieve quantum improvements in our lives as we quit hacking at the leaves of attitude and behavior and get to work on the root, the paradigms from which our attitudes and behaviors flow." The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People - Stephen R. Covey
Thoreau doesn't have much room to talk, mr. anti-social. Jail was actually nicer than his cabin. He knew what he was doing....Actually, I like Thoreau. Never mind.
Thoreau was a prototypical hippie. He pretended to live in a little shack in the woods, cut off from humanity, but he regularly walked into town to buy supplies, and never gave up the house he owned in Concord. I grew up near there, so we had Thoreau shoved down our throats all through school. Him and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. And Emerson. And Louisa May Alcott. All of them.
Funny, but both of you seemed to have missed the point completely, which is a shame.
"Today we come across an individual who behaves like an automaton, who does not know or understand himself, and the only person he knows is the person that he is supposed to be, whose meaningless chatter has replaced communicative speech, whose synthetic smile has replaced genuine laughter, and whose sense of dull despair has taken the place of genuine pain. Two statements may be said concerning this individual. One is that he suffers from spontaneity and individuality which may seem to be incurable. At the same time it may be said of him he does not differ essentially from the millions of the rest of us who walk upon this earth."
Foon; wasn't that some strange dance thing you did in odd places for peole to take pictures of you? One leg in the air and fist against head or something? Or am I on the completely wrong track again ... as usual ?
Mrsthing, I would have given anything to have had studies of Emerson crammed down my throat. I explored his work on my own. I will never get tired of Emerson.
Sorry, Gungas. I'm not used to people actually wanting to talk about anything serious.
I've read that story before, and I've had similar things happen to me, which is why I try not to be judgmental. We all go out into the world on any given day, little pods of context that nobody else knows about. That scowling person who bumped into you and just kept on going may have just lost his job, or had a fight with her mother, or come from a grueling tax audit--ANYTHING.
And the older I get, the more I have to fight to prevent turning into that automaton. I was just thinking about that today--checking in with myself. Do I do things because I enjoy them or because they contribute to my enjoyment of life or my personal enrichment, or am I just doing them because I think I'm supposed to? And what if the answer is the latter? Do I have the courage to change?
These questions were a piece of cake 30 years ago. They're not anymore.
In that same vein, I highly recommend a book John recommended on his old site, and that I've read: "Time and The Soul" by Jacob Needleman. John wrote a beautiful little foreword to the book, and the book itself is full of good bones to gnaw on, spiritually and mentally.
Fan, I like Emerson, too--but when you have to learn what your teacher wants and spew it back to him for an exam, it takes a lot of the fun out of it. After college, I did some reading on my own, and liked Emerson much better.
"Around 1826, during a winter trip to St. Augustine, Florida, Emerson made the acquaintance of Prince Achille Murat. Murat, the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte, was only two years his senior and the two became extremely good friends and enjoyed one another's company."
I wonder if all these 19th century American, British and European personalities ever got together for a corn and pig roast with some margaritas; a good Florida beach barbecue.
Ms. K, that's hysterical! Actually, when I was younger apparently I used to phoon - only didn't know how to name it at the time. When my friends an I would cross the street we'd make that pose to imitate the little man in the stop light. Ah, how easily young minds are entertained.
What am I talking about? Just today I laughed for about 10 minutes when one of my friends bit another one on his butt cheek. I'm giggling a bit even now
And Mrs. Thing I'd like to apologize for my absence, I've been trying to focus on other things and probably will not pop in till next weekend. But no worries, I intend to catch up. It's been very hard keeping away.
I've never heard of "phoon", but my friends and I used to love doing the Monkee walk down busy city streets. One time we had about 8 of us all doing it, holding up traffic in downtown Boston, MA.
Murat and family, inlaws etc.,lived in the environs of Tallahassee, Fla.(close to Gulf, in North Fla.). Bonaparte dissaproved of marriage until he found out the "Lady Love" was a niece of G. Washington.
Mrs Knight, if you were in Thailand, you could ask for a Ty-phoon with which to eat your pie.
Mrsthing, do you think that because you're from Jeff's family and I'm from V's, that perhaps we should feel an attraction for each other in an ancestral memory kind of way? I hope not, because I hate complications, but I just thought I'd throw that out there, even though both of us are straight and you are married. I'm thinking I should keep all my options out there, however, but actually I don't feel an attraction going on. Admiration, yes, but attraction, no.
Nah, I prefer the UK version which goes in the cup and gets boiling water over it and makes loads of idiots in TV commercials go, "Oohhh..." Remember, you only get an Oooohhhh... with Ty-Phoo ..... I ain't kidding ... I tell you, us Brits are MAD!
Honestly, if someone put a gun to my head and said, "Pleasure this woman or DIE!", I might be able to do it, but I wouldn't enjoy it. I couldn't go gay for anyone. I've got nothing against gays; I've had a few experiences of being mildly sexually attracted to women, but I'm pretty decidedly straight. Breathe a big sigh of relief, Fan!
I admire you, too.
I think Ty-Phoo tea is overrated, though it is good.
I don't think I'm large enough to be vampires, plural. But I've yet to decide if I am a vampire. We'll call it "experimenting". All the cool kids are doing it
Forced to raise the cash for his eye-wateringly expensive divorce settlement, John Cleese has put aside fond thoughts of a happy retirement and hit the road for a run of one-man shows.
Gunga thanks for posting that... After reading what Mr Cleese had to say about his divorce, wouldn't it have been easier/cheaper just to hire O J Simpson to sort out all his marital problems?
Well, yes... but these days it's fashion to let murderers, serial killers, serial rapists and paeodophiles walk out freely... You know, it is because it is so awful to be in a prison for life, even if you commit a mass-murder. The prisons are overcrowded... Well, I would have a much better solution for this problem, how to make the prisons empty and how to reach that murderers and rapists don't eat food on our expenses... But in these human-friendly days it's better if I don't say anything like that, because those who say similar things or even the victims of these prison-well-pampered bastards are imprisoned sooner than the murderers/rapists.
In the next century the victims would sit in prisons and the attackers would live happily outside. Well, perhaps it's safer in there, actually. Although, I don't have any intentions to try it.
Wow 1,500 seat hall sold out? And this is only the first one... Yay JC, may it be followed by many more. God knows I'd pay a lot more than 100$ to see it...
From The Sunday Times
February 11, 2007
Langan’s Bistro
"I took my friend O J Simpson and his wife Nicole after we’d been to see Cats. You may have heard they since parted in somewhat unusual circumstances."
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/food_and_drink/eating_out/winners_dinners/article1363839.ece