Dear Soulmate,
To see your face is to watch the moon's charming guise.Clear as white, calm as night, and heavenly appealing. A rousing light of this soul in its darkest hour and the lone delight of this sorrowful heart. To listen to your voice is to hear an angel sing. Every lyric speaks of heartfelt love. Its tune soothes this tired and deadbeat mind and the rhythm ushers in a new dawn of life. To smell your scent is to sense a sweet perfume as fresh and sweet-scented as the morning mist. A new, refreshing, and inspiring fragrance to this dull and stinking world of mine. To behold your eyes is to be magically entranced by a force as magnetic as the heavens above striking and mesmerizing and I just get lost inside your sight. To see your grace is to meet the Goddess of Love. Lovely, irresistible, and out of the ordinary to glance at your beauty is privilege enough.What more if I get to be by your side? To share thy sorrows and laughter and to discern my deepest secrets Is a great pleasure, without a doubt.For no one's more interesting than thou art To make me love you is as weird as life but is as pleasant as rose but for you to love me, too, is a gift from God himself.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
ARTICLE: WHAT LIES BENEATH BY AMANDA HESS
On Beauty | For Women, a New Look Down Under
After years of razors, wax and lasers reducing pubic hair to the bare minimum — or nothing at all — there’s a return to a more natural state.
Marilyn Monroe’s maid claimed she once walked in on the actress naked and splayed-legged, bottle and toothbrush in hand, meticulously bleaching the hair between her legs a perfectly matching platinum. When Monroe danced onto a breezy New York City subway grate in that billowing ivory dress in “The Seven Year Itch,” she layered two pairs of underwear to ensure that her bountiful crop was obscured from gawkers’ sightlines. And when the studio photographer snapped on-set publicity shots of the scene, they were meticulously airbrushed to smooth out the unmistakable texture visible beneath her pleated skirt.
For women of Monroe’s generation, pubic hair was a game of peekaboo — on full display in the privacy of the bungalow, but carefully hidden from popular view. In recent years, the bombshell bush has essentially disappeared. Wax-wielding estheticians and permanent lasers have whittled it down or erased it entirely. Pornography has served up a new degree of bareness. When the paparazzi shoot pantyless pop stars exiting limousines, their cameras zoom in on a barren landscape.
It wasn’t always this way. For centuries of artistic tradition, the absence of pubic hair was merely an illusion. Renaissance artists depicted the female pelvis in smoothed stone or oil-painted shadow. Although a few artists made bids for erotic realism — notably Gustave Courbet in 1866 with the furry black patch in his painting “L’Origine du Monde”— the taboo persisted. The story goes that the 19th-century art critic John Ruskin was so shocked by the discrepancy between the renderings he’d studied and his wife’s naked body that he annulled the marriage. “Though her face was beautiful,” he wrote, “there were certain circumstances in her person” that left him unable to proceed. When the photographer Alfred Stieglitz exhibited 45 portraits, several of them nudes, of his muse Georgia O’Keeffe in 1921, they caused a sensation.
The explosion of the bikini on 1960s beaches changed everything, bringing with it the “bikini line,” which required a precise shave. The beauty industry graciously homed in on this new terrain, first with razors and depilatory creams, then waxes, electrolysis and lasers. Peruse popular nudes over the past decades and you can practically carbon-date the photo by the area’s dwindling dimensions. In the 1960s, the fashion designer Mary Quant got hers trimmed into a heart. Helmut Newton’s 1981 “Big Nudes” series of photographs featured towering heels and equally imposing pubic hair; by the 1990s, Playboy centerfolds had transitioned from a full growth to a teensy landing strip; by the 21st century, the “Brazilian” was established as the new standard.
Did it go too far? Today, the Helmut Newton nude makes for a more aspirational ideal than an unfortunate celebrity crotch shot. The New York waxing emporium J. Sisters displays a 1990s head shot of Gwyneth Paltrow signed, “You changed my life!!” But these days, Paltrow laughingly told Ellen DeGeneres, “I work a ’70s vibe.” Mert & Marcus photographed Daria Werbowy and Naomi Campbell with full, frank pubic hair in a 2010 Love magazine spread, and they look assertive, real, even rebellious.
Even young porn stars are “bringing the ’80s back,” says Nina Hartley, a doyenne of the scene. Stoya, one of the highest-profile porn actresses of the moment, has also posed for the fashion photographer Steven Klein with grown-out pelvis and armpits. “I’ve had all sorts of pubic hair,” she says. “I’ve been completely bald, I’ve had my entire natural bush grown out, and I usually have an arrangement somewhere in between.” It’s worth noting that this look isn’t completely untamed, of course. Many women still attend to the sides and underneath. But there’s something refreshingly retro, delightfully expressive and confidently grown-up in getting back to nature. And Courbet’s “L’Origine du Monde”? It now resides at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, where — judging by the sale of postcards — it is one of the most popular paintings of all.
After years of razors, wax and lasers reducing pubic hair to the bare minimum — or nothing at all — there’s a return to a more natural state.
Marilyn Monroe’s maid claimed she once walked in on the actress naked and splayed-legged, bottle and toothbrush in hand, meticulously bleaching the hair between her legs a perfectly matching platinum. When Monroe danced onto a breezy New York City subway grate in that billowing ivory dress in “The Seven Year Itch,” she layered two pairs of underwear to ensure that her bountiful crop was obscured from gawkers’ sightlines. And when the studio photographer snapped on-set publicity shots of the scene, they were meticulously airbrushed to smooth out the unmistakable texture visible beneath her pleated skirt.
For women of Monroe’s generation, pubic hair was a game of peekaboo — on full display in the privacy of the bungalow, but carefully hidden from popular view. In recent years, the bombshell bush has essentially disappeared. Wax-wielding estheticians and permanent lasers have whittled it down or erased it entirely. Pornography has served up a new degree of bareness. When the paparazzi shoot pantyless pop stars exiting limousines, their cameras zoom in on a barren landscape.
It wasn’t always this way. For centuries of artistic tradition, the absence of pubic hair was merely an illusion. Renaissance artists depicted the female pelvis in smoothed stone or oil-painted shadow. Although a few artists made bids for erotic realism — notably Gustave Courbet in 1866 with the furry black patch in his painting “L’Origine du Monde”— the taboo persisted. The story goes that the 19th-century art critic John Ruskin was so shocked by the discrepancy between the renderings he’d studied and his wife’s naked body that he annulled the marriage. “Though her face was beautiful,” he wrote, “there were certain circumstances in her person” that left him unable to proceed. When the photographer Alfred Stieglitz exhibited 45 portraits, several of them nudes, of his muse Georgia O’Keeffe in 1921, they caused a sensation.
The explosion of the bikini on 1960s beaches changed everything, bringing with it the “bikini line,” which required a precise shave. The beauty industry graciously homed in on this new terrain, first with razors and depilatory creams, then waxes, electrolysis and lasers. Peruse popular nudes over the past decades and you can practically carbon-date the photo by the area’s dwindling dimensions. In the 1960s, the fashion designer Mary Quant got hers trimmed into a heart. Helmut Newton’s 1981 “Big Nudes” series of photographs featured towering heels and equally imposing pubic hair; by the 1990s, Playboy centerfolds had transitioned from a full growth to a teensy landing strip; by the 21st century, the “Brazilian” was established as the new standard.
Did it go too far? Today, the Helmut Newton nude makes for a more aspirational ideal than an unfortunate celebrity crotch shot. The New York waxing emporium J. Sisters displays a 1990s head shot of Gwyneth Paltrow signed, “You changed my life!!” But these days, Paltrow laughingly told Ellen DeGeneres, “I work a ’70s vibe.” Mert & Marcus photographed Daria Werbowy and Naomi Campbell with full, frank pubic hair in a 2010 Love magazine spread, and they look assertive, real, even rebellious.
Even young porn stars are “bringing the ’80s back,” says Nina Hartley, a doyenne of the scene. Stoya, one of the highest-profile porn actresses of the moment, has also posed for the fashion photographer Steven Klein with grown-out pelvis and armpits. “I’ve had all sorts of pubic hair,” she says. “I’ve been completely bald, I’ve had my entire natural bush grown out, and I usually have an arrangement somewhere in between.” It’s worth noting that this look isn’t completely untamed, of course. Many women still attend to the sides and underneath. But there’s something refreshingly retro, delightfully expressive and confidently grown-up in getting back to nature. And Courbet’s “L’Origine du Monde”? It now resides at the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, where — judging by the sale of postcards — it is one of the most popular paintings of all.
Monday, December 9, 2013
PERSONAL/LOVE LETTER: MY LOVE
My love-
I have sipped the sweetness of your being.You have caressed my soul, and I have touched yours.We have frolicked together on the beaches of my imagination.I can never feel ordinary again.The day we met, was the day I found my dream.I devote every single part of me to you.I give you all my love, all my life.How I want to hold you in my arms while you are sleeping...Hear your every soundless breath...See the moon shine on your lovely face...Smell the sweetness of your hair...and touch your tender lips...I'll cherish every moment when I am with you..How deeply do I love you?From the deepest depths of my soul. Can I ever leave you? I could never let you go! Can I resist your warm embrace? Not in a million years...To breathe the air that you breathe,to walk where you have walked, to stop and rest where you rest,to be there by your side.To hold you by the hand,to whiff the aroma you dispel, to touch your softness and your warmth, is all in the world that I do dwell.To fill the void that my heart feels,to bridge the gap between us,to stretch across the miles,to see your lovely smiles To stroke your hair, to feel your lips,to be together, not passing ships, to caress your skin, to smell your smell,is all in the world that I do dwell. To ease this ache my heart incurs,to kiss across your smiling face,to leap the chasm between our souls,to draw you nearer to my whole.
I have sipped the sweetness of your being.You have caressed my soul, and I have touched yours.We have frolicked together on the beaches of my imagination.I can never feel ordinary again.The day we met, was the day I found my dream.I devote every single part of me to you.I give you all my love, all my life.How I want to hold you in my arms while you are sleeping...Hear your every soundless breath...See the moon shine on your lovely face...Smell the sweetness of your hair...and touch your tender lips...I'll cherish every moment when I am with you..How deeply do I love you?From the deepest depths of my soul. Can I ever leave you? I could never let you go! Can I resist your warm embrace? Not in a million years...To breathe the air that you breathe,to walk where you have walked, to stop and rest where you rest,to be there by your side.To hold you by the hand,to whiff the aroma you dispel, to touch your softness and your warmth, is all in the world that I do dwell.To fill the void that my heart feels,to bridge the gap between us,to stretch across the miles,to see your lovely smiles To stroke your hair, to feel your lips,to be together, not passing ships, to caress your skin, to smell your smell,is all in the world that I do dwell. To ease this ache my heart incurs,to kiss across your smiling face,to leap the chasm between our souls,to draw you nearer to my whole.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
VIDEO: GORDON LIGHTFOOT: IF YOU COULD READ MY MIND
One of the most beautiful songs ever. The supposed meaning of the song is under the lyrics for those interested.
If you could read my mind, love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old-time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I'm a ghost that you can't see
If I could read your mind, love
What a tale your thoughts could tell
Just like a paperback novel
The kind the drugstores sell
When you reach the part where the heartaches come
The hero would be me
But heroes often fail
And you won't read that book again
Because the ending's just too hard to take
I'd walk away like a movie star
Who gets burned in a three-way script
Enter number two
A movie queen to play the scene
Of bringing all the good things out in me
But for now love, let's be real
I never thought I could act this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feeling's gone and I just can't get it back
If you could read my mind, love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old-time movie
'Bout a ghost from a wishin' well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
But stories always end
And if you read between the lines
You'll know that I'm just tryin' to understand
The feelings that you lack
I never thought I could feel this way
And I've got to say that I just don't get it
I don't know where we went wrong
But the feeling's gone and I just can't get it back
Some comments I read somewhere. Maybe the true meaning:
Many people interpret this as a song of regret. It is not. It is a song of sorrow, not regret. Leaving his wife is something he understands that he must (unfortunately) do. He is sad about it and has sympathy for his wife. But leave he must before something worse and regrettable happens.
While the Gordon may have eventually acquired "feelings" for other women (which may be what he is referring to in "I never thought I could act/feel that/this way".....I am not sure), that is not what caused this relationship to fail.
The most important and powerful words in the song are in the last verse:
And if you read between the lines
You'll know that I'm just trying to understand
The feelings that YOU lack
These lines are so powerful and personal that Lightfoot's (now grown up) children from this broken marriage have requested that he use the line "the feelings that WE lack" (which changes the true meaning of the song, IMO) when he now performs this in concert. Gordon has honored their request.
ARTICLE/ DATING: (NY POST) Short men don’t stack up with NYC women By Gary Buiso
It’s a tall order dating women in the Big Apple.
The likelihood that a man under 5-foot-9 is contacted by a Manhattan or Bronx woman online is a scant 1.2 percent, with Brooklyn coming in with a paltry 2.4 percent response rate, according to a study conducted by the dating site AYI.com, which analyzed 50,000 interactions over two months.
Staten Island short stacks had just a 4.1 chance of being chatted up online, and Queens mini-men rounded out the boroughs with 5.4 percent.
“People in bigger cities have more options and tend to be pickier,” explained Josh Fischer, who led the study.
Brooklynite Nick Rizzo knows the sting of big-otry all too well.
“It’s just a fact of life that most women taller than me aren’t willing to date me,” confessed the 5-foot-7 28-year-old, who said he has found that women are often “uncomfortable” when their date doesn’t measure up.
“Maybe they’re worried about how it will look to other people,” he added.
But there’s hope across the Hudson.
Shorties in Jersey City have a 7.6 percent likelihood of being contacted by the fairer sex — that’s a staggering 533 percent more likely than short men in Manhattan/Bronx.
“Jersey City, as opposed to Manhattan, has a bit more of a community vibe. People actually get to know each other here, and are a bit more laid-back,” said Bethany, a 5-foot, 28-year-old Jersey City woman who doesn’t mind dating a short man.
Still, there are some pitfalls when dating the diminutive, she warned. “Short men don’t always have Napoleon complexes, but definitely steer clear of the ones that do.”
Some short men don’t help their cause.
“I met an [online] date at a bar in Manhattan. He was already seated when I walked in,” recalled a 5-foot-6, 42-year-old Chelsea woman. “We had a nice time chatting over a glass of wine. When I got up to leave, I saw that the man who had said he was 5-6 was actually 5-0.
“I must have had a fairly surprised look on my face. To my horror, he said, ‘I can climb you like a tree.’ I made a hasty exit.”
Experts said size matters — because of evolution.
“Cross-culturally, women show a preference for taller mates,” said Dr. Jill Shapiro, a biological anthropologist at Columbia University. “Most people think it’s related to sexual selection. Taller men are perceived to be healthier, be better providers. By being tall, you are signaling that you have good genes.”
So what’s the matter with Jersey City women? Evolutionarily speaking, a lot, said Shapiro.
“It’s going against the normal pattern for most humans,” she said.
The likelihood that a man under 5-foot-9 is contacted by a Manhattan or Bronx woman online is a scant 1.2 percent, with Brooklyn coming in with a paltry 2.4 percent response rate, according to a study conducted by the dating site AYI.com, which analyzed 50,000 interactions over two months.
Staten Island short stacks had just a 4.1 chance of being chatted up online, and Queens mini-men rounded out the boroughs with 5.4 percent.
“People in bigger cities have more options and tend to be pickier,” explained Josh Fischer, who led the study.
Brooklynite Nick Rizzo knows the sting of big-otry all too well.
“It’s just a fact of life that most women taller than me aren’t willing to date me,” confessed the 5-foot-7 28-year-old, who said he has found that women are often “uncomfortable” when their date doesn’t measure up.
“Maybe they’re worried about how it will look to other people,” he added.
But there’s hope across the Hudson.
Shorties in Jersey City have a 7.6 percent likelihood of being contacted by the fairer sex — that’s a staggering 533 percent more likely than short men in Manhattan/Bronx.
“Jersey City, as opposed to Manhattan, has a bit more of a community vibe. People actually get to know each other here, and are a bit more laid-back,” said Bethany, a 5-foot, 28-year-old Jersey City woman who doesn’t mind dating a short man.
Still, there are some pitfalls when dating the diminutive, she warned. “Short men don’t always have Napoleon complexes, but definitely steer clear of the ones that do.”
Some short men don’t help their cause.
“I met an [online] date at a bar in Manhattan. He was already seated when I walked in,” recalled a 5-foot-6, 42-year-old Chelsea woman. “We had a nice time chatting over a glass of wine. When I got up to leave, I saw that the man who had said he was 5-6 was actually 5-0.
“I must have had a fairly surprised look on my face. To my horror, he said, ‘I can climb you like a tree.’ I made a hasty exit.”
Experts said size matters — because of evolution.
“Cross-culturally, women show a preference for taller mates,” said Dr. Jill Shapiro, a biological anthropologist at Columbia University. “Most people think it’s related to sexual selection. Taller men are perceived to be healthier, be better providers. By being tall, you are signaling that you have good genes.”
So what’s the matter with Jersey City women? Evolutionarily speaking, a lot, said Shapiro.
“It’s going against the normal pattern for most humans,” she said.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
PERSONAL/ LOVE LETTER: YOU ARE THE ONE
It’s hard to introduce myself,
start a conversation about simple things,
learn the ways we can join hearts,
touch minds, swap smiles, be warm with each other.
All I want, is to roam those miles of your eyes,
be a good soul finding grace in your gaze,
reel the sparks dancing between glances,
draw in the gravity of who we might be.
But how, how will you even notice me?
Mouthing these, these tiny, silly words
too soon, too much, too late, no doubt -
and blood is rushing my intentions,
the world is spinning, twisting, whirling
and everything is blurring
into one.
You are that one.
start a conversation about simple things,
learn the ways we can join hearts,
touch minds, swap smiles, be warm with each other.
All I want, is to roam those miles of your eyes,
be a good soul finding grace in your gaze,
reel the sparks dancing between glances,
draw in the gravity of who we might be.
But how, how will you even notice me?
Mouthing these, these tiny, silly words
too soon, too much, too late, no doubt -
and blood is rushing my intentions,
the world is spinning, twisting, whirling
and everything is blurring
into one.
You are that one.
VIDEO:: THAT ONE NIGHT WHERE TRUE LOVE SEEMED POSSIBLE.....CONSEQUENCES, DAVID
We erased what really happened from your memory. - Erased?- Replaced. By a better life... under these... beautiful, Monet-like skies. My mother's favorite. A better life because you had Sofia. You sculpted your Lucid Dream out of the iconography of your youth. An album cover that once moved you. An album cover? There are some things... that you're not old enough to understand just yet. A movie you saw once that showed you what a father could be like... or what love could be like. This was a kind woman... an individual... more than your equal. You barely knew her in real life,but in your Lucid Dream... she was your savior. What happened in my real life?Something happened. What did you erase? Do you really want to know? Tell me everything. The morning after the nightclub,you woke up on that street... hung over and alone. You got up, walked away. You never saw Sofia again. I didn't kill Sofia. You battled your board for control of the company... You battled your board for control of the company... and in the end it was Thomas Tipp,your father's friend... the man whose job you saved... who wrenched the company back into your control. Tommy. But then... somebody died. You longed for Sofia. You shut yourself away for months. You were alone. You couldn't standthe pain anymore, the headaches. You could barely function. I found you on the Internet. I signed a contract with you,and then-- I remember. Somebody died. It was me. And on a day in late December... you gave your self to us. You're now in a suspended state. Your friend Brian Shelby threw a three-day memorial in your old home. He was a true friend. You were missed, David. It was Sofia who never fully recovered. It was she who some how knew you best... and like you, she never forgot that one night... where true love seemed possible. Consequences, David. It's the little things. The little things. There's nothing bigger,is there?
ISLAM: THE LIES AND TRUTH ABOUT ISLAM
1-Muslims don't believe in Jesus
In the Qur'an, stories about the life and teachings of Jesus Christ (called 'Isa in Arabic) are abundant. The Qur'an recalls his miraculous birth, his teachings, and the miracles he performed by God's permission. There is even a chapter of the Qur'an named after his mother, Mary (Miriam in Arabic). However, Muslims believe that Jesus was a fully human prophet and not in any way divine himself.
2-Islam oppresses women
Most of the ill-treatment that women receive in the Muslim world is based on local culture and traditions, without any basis in the faith of Islam. In fact, practices such as forced marriage, spousal abuse, and restricted movement directly contradict Islamic law governing family behavior and personal freedom.
3-Muslims are violent, terrorist extremists
Terrorism cannot be justified under any valid interpretation of the Islamic faith. The entire Qur'an, taken as a complete text, gives a message of hope, faith, and peace to a faith community of one billion people. The overwhelming message is that peace is to be found through faith in God, and justice among fellow human beings. Muslim leaders and scholars do speak out against terrorism in all its forms, and offer explanations of misinterpreted or twisted teachings.
Contrary to what is alleged by bigots like Bill Maher, Muslims are not more violent than people of other religions. Murder rates in most of the Muslim world are very low compared to the United States.
As for political violence, people of Christian heritage in the twentieth century polished off tens of millions of people in the two world wars and colonial repression. This massive carnage did not occur because European Christians are worse than or different from other human beings, but because they were the first to industrialize war and pursue a national model. Sometimes it is argued that they did not act in the name of religion but of nationalism. But, really, how naive. Religion and nationalism are closely intertwined. The British monarch is the head of the Church of England, and that still meant something in the first half of the twentieth century, at least. The Swedish church is a national church. Spain? Was it really unconnected to Catholicism? Did the Church and Francisco Franco’s feelings toward it play no role in the Civil War? And what’s sauce for the goose: much Muslim violence is driven by forms of modern nationalism, too.
I don’t figure that Muslims killed more than a 2 million people or so in political violence in the entire twentieth century, and that mainly in the Iran-Iraq War 1980-1988 and the Soviet and post-Soviet wars in Afghanistan, for which Europeans bear some blame.
Compare that to the Christian European tally of, oh, lets say 100 million (16 million in WW I, 60 million in WW II– though some of those were attributable to Buddhists in Asia– and millions more in colonial wars.)
Belgium– yes, the Belgium of strawberry beer and quaint Gravensteen castle– conquered the Congo and is estimated to have killed off half of its inhabitants over time, some 8 million people at least.
Or, between 1916-1930 Tsarist Russian and then Soviet forces — facing the revolt of Central Asians trying to throw off Christian (and then Marxist), European rule — Russian forces killed an estimated 1.5 million people. Two boys brought up in or born in one of those territories (Kyrgyzstan) just killed 4 people and wounded others critically. That is horrible, but no one, whether in Russia or in Europe or in North America has the slightest idea that Central Asians were mass-murdered during WW I and before and after, and looted of much of their wealth. Russia when it brutally conquered and ruled the Caucasus and Central Asia was an Eastern Orthodox, Christian empire (and seems to be reemerging as one!).
Then, between half a million and a million Algerians died in that country’s war of independence from France, 1954-1962, at a time when the population was only 11 million!
I could go on and on. Everywhere you dig in European colonialism in Afro-Asia, there are bodies. Lots of bodies.
Now that I think of it, maybe 100 million people killed by people of European Christian heritage in the twentieth century is an underestimate.
As for religious terrorism, that too is universal. Admittedly, some groups deploy terrorism as a tactic more at some times than others. Zionists in British Mandate Palestine were active terrorists in the 1940s, from a British point of view, and in the period 1965-1980, the FBI considered the Jewish Defense League among the most active US terrorist groups. (Members at one point plotted to assassinate Rep. Dareell Issa (R-CA) because of his Lebanese heritage.) Now that Jewish nationalsts are largely getting their way, terrorism has declined among them. But it would likely reemerge if they stopped getting their way. In fact, one of the arguments Israeli politicians give for allowing Israeli squatters to keep the Palestinian land in the West Bank that they have usurped is that attempting to move them back out would produce violence. I.e., the settlers not only actually terrorize the Palestinians, but they form a terrorism threat for Israel proper (as the late prime minister Yitzhak Rabin discovered).
Even more recently, it is difficult for me to see much of a difference between Tamerlan Tsarnaev and Baruch Goldstein, perpetrator of the Hebron massacre.
Or there was the cold-blooded bombing of the Ajmer shrine in India by Bhavesh Patel and a gang of Hindu nationalists. Chillingly, they were disturbed when a second bomb they had set did not go off, so that they did not wreak as much havoc as they would have liked. Ajmer is an ecumenical Sufi shrine also visited by Hindus, and these bigots wanted to stop such open-minded sharing of spiritual spaces because they hate Muslims.
Buddhists have committed a lot of terrorism and other violence as well. Many in the Zen orders in Japan supported militarism in the first half of the twentieth century, for which their leaders later apologized. And, you had Inoue Shiro’s assassination campaign in 1930s Japan. Nowadays militant Buddhist monks in Burma/ Myanmar are urging on an ethnic cleansing campaign against the Rohingya.
As for Christianity, the Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda initiated hostilities that displaced two million people. Although it is an African cult, it is Christian in origin and the result of Western Christian missionaries preaching in Africa. If Saudi Wahhabi preachers can be in part blamed for the Taliban, why do Christian missionaries skate when we consider the blowback from their pupils?
Despite the very large number of European Muslims, in 2007-2009 less than 1 percent of terrorist acts in that continent were committed by people from that community.
Terrorism is a tactic of extremists within each religion, and within secular religions of Marxism or nationalism. No religion, including Islam, preaches indiscriminate violence against innocents.
It takes a peculiar sort of blindness to see Christians of European heritage as “nice” and Muslims and inherently violent, given the twentieth century death toll I mentioned above. Human beings are human beings and the species is too young and too interconnected to have differentiated much from group to group. People resort to violence out of ambition or grievance, and the more powerful they are, the more violence they seem to commit. The good news is that the number of wars is declining over time, and World War II, the biggest charnel house in history, hasn’t been repeated.
4-Islam is intolerant of other faiths
Throughout the Qur'an, Muslims are reminded that they are not the only ones who worship God. Jews and Christians are called "People of the Book," meaning people who have received previous revelations from the One Almighty God that we all worship. The Qur'an also commands Muslims to protect from harm not only mosques, but also monasteries, synagogues, and churches -- because "God is worshipped therein."
5-Islam promotes "jihad" to spread Islam by the sword and kill all unbelievers
The word Jihad stems from an Arabic word which means "to strive." Other related words include "effort," "labor," and "fatigue." Essentially Jihad is an effort to practice religion in the face of oppression and persecution. The effort may come in fighting the evil in your own heart, or in standing up to a dictator. Military effort is included as an option, but as a last resort and not "to spread Islam by the sword."
SPIRITUAL: WHEN YOU MET GOD
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that's when you met me.
"What... what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?"
"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.
"There was a... a truck and it was skidding..."
"Yup." I said.
"I... I died?"
"Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies." I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?"
"More or less," I said.
"Are you god?" You asked.
"Yup." I replied. "I'm God."
"My kids... my wife," you said.
"What about them?"
"Will they be alright?"
"That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is your family. That's good stuff right there."
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved." "To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved."
"Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?"
"Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."
"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right."
"All the religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me."
You followed along as we strolled in the void. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk."
"So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter?"
"Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now."
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had."
"You've been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point doing that between each life."
"How many times have I been reincarnated then?"
"Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives." I said. "This time around you'll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D."
"Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?"
"Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from."
"Where you come from?" You pondered.
"Oh, sure!" I explained. "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there's others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there but you honestly won't understand."
"Oh." You said, a little let down. "But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?"
"Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan, you don't even know its happening."
"So what's the point of it all?"
"Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?"
"Well, it's a reasonable question." You persisted.
I looked in your eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature."
"You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"
"No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect."
"Just me? What about everyone else?"
"There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you, and me."
You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on Earth..."
"All you. Different incarnations of you."
"Wait. I'm everyone!?"
"Now you're getting it." I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
"I'm every human who ever lived?"
"Or who will ever live, yes."
"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"
"And you're John Wilkes Booth." I added.
"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.
"And you're the millions he killed."
"I'm Jesus?"
"And you're everyone who followed him."
You fell silent.
"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."
"Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"
"Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child."
"Whoa." You said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?"
"No. Not yet. You're a fetus You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born."
"So the whole universe," you said. "It's just..."
"An egg of sorts." I answered. "Now it's time for you to move on to your next life."
And I sent you on your way.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that's when you met me.
"What... what happened?" You asked. "Where am I?"
"You died," I said, matter-of-factly. No point mincing words.
"There was a... a truck and it was skidding..."
"Yup." I said.
"I... I died?"
"Yup. But don't feel bad about it. Everyone dies." I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. "What is this place?" You asked. "Is this the afterlife?"
"More or less," I said.
"Are you god?" You asked.
"Yup." I replied. "I'm God."
"My kids... my wife," you said.
"What about them?"
"Will they be alright?"
"That's what I like to see," I said. "You just died and your main concern is your family. That's good stuff right there."
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn't look like God. I just looked like some man. Some vague authority figure. More of a a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
"Don't worry," I said. "They'll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn't have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved." "To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it's any consolation, she'll feel very guilty for feeling relieved."
"Oh," you said. "So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?"
"Neither," I said. "You'll be reincarnated."
"Ah," you said. "So the Hindus were right."
"All the religions are right in their own way," I said. "Walk with me."
You followed along as we strolled in the void. "Where are we going?"
"Nowhere in particular," I said. "It's just nice to walk while we talk."
"So what's the point, then?" You asked. "When I get reborn, I'll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won't matter?"
"Not so!" I said. "You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don't remember them right now."
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. "Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It's like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it's hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you've gained all the experiences it had."
"You've been a human for the last 34 years, so you haven't stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for longer, you'd start remembering everything. But there's no point doing that between each life."
"How many times have I been reincarnated then?"
"Oh, lots. Lots and lots. And into lots of different lives." I said. "This time around you'll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 A.D."
"Wait, what?" You stammered. "You're sending me back in time?"
"Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from."
"Where you come from?" You pondered.
"Oh, sure!" I explained. "I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there's others like me. I know you'll want to know what it's like there but you honestly won't understand."
"Oh." You said, a little let down. "But wait, if I get reincarnated to other places in time, could I have interacted with myself at some point?"
"Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own timespan, you don't even know its happening."
"So what's the point of it all?"
"Seriously?" I asked. "Seriously? You're asking me for the meaning of life? Isn't that a little stereotypical?"
"Well, it's a reasonable question." You persisted.
I looked in your eye. "The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature."
"You mean mankind? You want us to mature?"
"No. Just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature, and become a larger and greater intellect."
"Just me? What about everyone else?"
"There is no one else," I said. "In this universe, there's just you, and me."
You stared blankly at me. "But all the people on Earth..."
"All you. Different incarnations of you."
"Wait. I'm everyone!?"
"Now you're getting it." I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
"I'm every human who ever lived?"
"Or who will ever live, yes."
"I'm Abraham Lincoln?"
"And you're John Wilkes Booth." I added.
"I'm Hitler?" You said, appalled.
"And you're the millions he killed."
"I'm Jesus?"
"And you're everyone who followed him."
You fell silent.
"Every time you victimized someone," I said, "You were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you've done, you've done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you."
"Why?" You asked me. "Why do all this?"
"Because someday, you will become like me. Because that's what you are. You're one of my kind. You're my child."
"Whoa." You said, incredulous. "You mean I'm a god?"
"No. Not yet. You're a fetus You're still growing. Once you've lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born."
"So the whole universe," you said. "It's just..."
"An egg of sorts." I answered. "Now it's time for you to move on to your next life."
And I sent you on your way.
Friday, December 6, 2013
PERSONAL/LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE
Dear Soulmate.....
When I am alone at night.I let my mind open and my heart relax for I know you are here.In my heart and soul...you run through my veins and heal my wounds.Like you healed my heart.You are the air I breathe and the flowers I see.The sun that warms my once cold soul.The blanket that keeps me warm at night.How good you make me feel wrapped around my warming body waiting for you I love to do.Because I know my thoughts are of you alone at night no more will I be thinking of you sets me free.Together forever we will always be.You are the voice that caresses my soul. The touch that eases my aching muscles. The body that swims in my eyes. The person I am one with. The soul that mates with my own. The object of my passion.
The dreams that soothe my sleep.The hand that wipes my tears away.The company that pulls me from loneliness.The light in my dark existence You are the obsession that keeps me alive. Loving you inspires me.Loving you has released me from the chains of a broken heart.Loving you leaves my heart swollen with this incredible pressure.Because I can love you,
Because I love you,Because I'm not afraid to love you.I love you and want to dive into your deep mind and stay forever lost in the wonder of you.Lost forever in the wonder of you. Dive into the warmth of your arms,look into the intensity of your eyes, watch your thin lips move as they speak of everything. I know that time can never change,the love I have for you except to make it deeper still with everything we do. In all my dreams of coming years you are the biggest part.I can get you out of my head but never out of my heart
When I am alone at night.I let my mind open and my heart relax for I know you are here.In my heart and soul...you run through my veins and heal my wounds.Like you healed my heart.You are the air I breathe and the flowers I see.The sun that warms my once cold soul.The blanket that keeps me warm at night.How good you make me feel wrapped around my warming body waiting for you I love to do.Because I know my thoughts are of you alone at night no more will I be thinking of you sets me free.Together forever we will always be.You are the voice that caresses my soul. The touch that eases my aching muscles. The body that swims in my eyes. The person I am one with. The soul that mates with my own. The object of my passion.
The dreams that soothe my sleep.The hand that wipes my tears away.The company that pulls me from loneliness.The light in my dark existence You are the obsession that keeps me alive. Loving you inspires me.Loving you has released me from the chains of a broken heart.Loving you leaves my heart swollen with this incredible pressure.Because I can love you,
Because I love you,Because I'm not afraid to love you.I love you and want to dive into your deep mind and stay forever lost in the wonder of you.Lost forever in the wonder of you. Dive into the warmth of your arms,look into the intensity of your eyes, watch your thin lips move as they speak of everything. I know that time can never change,the love I have for you except to make it deeper still with everything we do. In all my dreams of coming years you are the biggest part.I can get you out of my head but never out of my heart
LOVE/DATING: WISDOM
There is a time and a place for everyone to see their true love face to face. I've witnessed first hand false love and what a wise one once told me:"True love won't hide, false love hides behind close heart".This wise one is one I used to love, do love, and always will love. This person taught me things that would have taken forever to learn on my own. Therefore, I am thankful for all the things this being has taught me. Then, I witnessed true love for the first real time. This love showed me that you can never put all your trust into unsure facts.Love also showed me pain like no other, pain that cut through my soul, pain that eventually made me stronger, and somehow made me love this love more. Although I have hurt a few and have been hurt by a couple, no one is the total blame for how my heart cried. I say what can kill me will, and what doesn't won't, but what seems to hurt more than death itself makes me stronger. Most think, just as the wise one does, that love is simply a manipulation of the mind and isn't worth the run around once more once you have been hurt. I say it's not love that hurts you, it's the people you fall in love with. Not to say that you can control whom you love, but try to choose more carefully who you share your temple and your mind with. You may not fall as hard and get as disappointed as you seem to have done in the past.It is said that if you stand for nothing you will fall for anything. I stand for true love, because I am blessed to have love and one who loves me. I will stand by love and wisdom through it all, because I believe that they are the keys to leading a better life. I have based my life on the love that love has shown me through love, and the wisdom that has been taught to me by wisdom. Love and Wisdom is all I need on this earth to survive life's never ending turmoil and pain.Thank you Love, Thank you Wisdom.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
FAN: FROM A FAN
I was in love with you for such a long time, for so long you were in my every thought and in many actions. I carried this love around with me somewhat secretively and silently. It had no where to go. I was alone with it. There was nobody and no body to accept it. But I realized later it is what it is. Cant change anybody, cant make them love or want you if they don't. Being committed is not about chasing someone in hopes they will return your love and accept you. No, I made that mistake before also. Being committed needs to be about a relationship, a relationship with two minds, hearts, and souls. If there is only one person loving the other it is not that, and if you commit yourself to that you are committing yourself to the lonely zone of unrequited love. And there is no reason to try to be a matyr and savior, we already have Jesus. And don't try to understand things, if you live in the world of why, you wont get out. The hardest thing maybe is trying to figure out what to do with that space. Kinda like decorating. What do you do with that empty space? Take a breather and enjoy the extra oxygen, or fill the space with something new, or cherish the development of a different type of love a renewed friendship of sorts.
I love you Alex. And I love you for you, I see and feel you I always will. God can explain that that one to me when I meet him. When im old and grey, without one glimmer of sexiness left in me, I will still love and would like you to meet my grandchildren, maybe they can be friends with yours, although ill be watching what you whisper in your grandson ear about my granddaughter, saying go after that, that is some good pussy right there.
PERSONAL: DEAR FUTURE SOULMATE...YOU ARE NOT A DREAM
Dear Future Soulmate,
Many nights I sit and ponder. I dream but I cannot find the truth. Who am I? Who is the one? I go through life searching for.In my dreams you are there with your blue eyes like liquid sky. Blond hair of midnight lust.Your touch sends shiver to my heart and your embrace is like soft silk. On a fresh crisp morning, need I speak of your kiss.Passionate, loving....How long did I long for thee.I count the seconds 'till next I rest in your arms. Every waking hour my heart beats for you. My thoughts are always centered around you, yet when I wake the morning air, cool and soft hits me and I know it's just a dream. Yet how can something so real be just a dream? I know who you are.You know who I am.We hunger for the touch, the embrace of our souls. But one day I will reach you and then all will know that you are real.Your soft arms will embrace me...I can even now feel their warmth.I can see your eyes of blue ice glitter as you look upon me.And your lips-how I yearn for their breathtaking touch...So soft and pure.Always shall I love you.But for now I'll wait for you see, you've already captured my heart.So, it can be won by no other.They all wonder why I sit and wait on a dream, but you are not a dream.You are my life. If it takes forever, I will wait for you hold the key and you are miles away,Yet I know that as soon as you are near,I will sense your presence. For you and I are connected by a sliver of silver thread. My heart is yours and yours is mine and all I ask is that you do not wait too long to bring the key and open my inner soul.For I am but a half without you, you see you are not a dream because our love is written in the crystalline stars. In the quiet of the night,I felt your touch. Two hearts blending as one, Souls reaching out for that familiar feeling of completeness. Peace at last, the day is done.
Many nights I sit and ponder. I dream but I cannot find the truth. Who am I? Who is the one? I go through life searching for.In my dreams you are there with your blue eyes like liquid sky. Blond hair of midnight lust.Your touch sends shiver to my heart and your embrace is like soft silk. On a fresh crisp morning, need I speak of your kiss.Passionate, loving....How long did I long for thee.I count the seconds 'till next I rest in your arms. Every waking hour my heart beats for you. My thoughts are always centered around you, yet when I wake the morning air, cool and soft hits me and I know it's just a dream. Yet how can something so real be just a dream? I know who you are.You know who I am.We hunger for the touch, the embrace of our souls. But one day I will reach you and then all will know that you are real.Your soft arms will embrace me...I can even now feel their warmth.I can see your eyes of blue ice glitter as you look upon me.And your lips-how I yearn for their breathtaking touch...So soft and pure.Always shall I love you.But for now I'll wait for you see, you've already captured my heart.So, it can be won by no other.They all wonder why I sit and wait on a dream, but you are not a dream.You are my life. If it takes forever, I will wait for you hold the key and you are miles away,Yet I know that as soon as you are near,I will sense your presence. For you and I are connected by a sliver of silver thread. My heart is yours and yours is mine and all I ask is that you do not wait too long to bring the key and open my inner soul.For I am but a half without you, you see you are not a dream because our love is written in the crystalline stars. In the quiet of the night,I felt your touch. Two hearts blending as one, Souls reaching out for that familiar feeling of completeness. Peace at last, the day is done.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
PERSONAL/LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE/ FUTURE WIFE
Dear Soulmate,
The light in your eyes is the love in your eyes and the love in your eyes is mine.So the love in my eyes meets the light in your eyes to wine and dine through time. If i try to sleep... i dream of you. Awake, I walk still dreaming tooI live to love you nothing more...what else is this poor heart for? When kissed by you, my lips are blessed and when I'm alone with you my soul undressed. Kiss me again and never cease for when I'm alone with you my mind has peace. When i hold you ...I hold everything from your resplendent eyes my existence springs. The world may stop and the moon might bust but this dream lives on... just the two of us....I love you. I love the fact I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because thinking about you places it there. I love the fact that when I talk to you I lose all my words and my senses. I love the fact that the more I talk to you is the more I want to talk to you.
The light in your eyes is the love in your eyes and the love in your eyes is mine.So the love in my eyes meets the light in your eyes to wine and dine through time. If i try to sleep... i dream of you. Awake, I walk still dreaming tooI live to love you nothing more...what else is this poor heart for? When kissed by you, my lips are blessed and when I'm alone with you my soul undressed. Kiss me again and never cease for when I'm alone with you my mind has peace. When i hold you ...I hold everything from your resplendent eyes my existence springs. The world may stop and the moon might bust but this dream lives on... just the two of us....I love you. I love the fact I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because thinking about you places it there. I love the fact that when I talk to you I lose all my words and my senses. I love the fact that the more I talk to you is the more I want to talk to you.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
PERSONAL/LOVE LETTER: DEAR SOULMATE..I CAN SEE ALL THE PAIN
Dear Soulmate
I can see all the pain you hide. No one can see how your hurting inside, but I can see so much when I look in your eyes and I can feel the pain from all the good-byes.Baby, just come to me and cry because on me you can rely.No more do you have to fear because I finally found you, I'm here.Just open your heart and let me in.I can make love and happiness begin.You won't be in the dark tonight because I'm here with your light, I've been through it all and I've taken that painful fall, but you walked into my life.Now I know that I'll be alright.I'll do whatever it takes to make the rain go away. That's the promise that I'll make...you don't have to be afraid. All you have to do is trust me and take my hand because I've been through it too, I understand.Break your heart, no I'll never...I want to be here, past forever. I've fallen in love with you, Can you tell? Do you know? Here in this charmed night that spinning lights shine down on us. And I can only think througout the sound of your voice echoing in my mind that I have found forever in your eyes. As we move together...past being strangers and the shadows;I still can't speak one word of this truth.My love is a silence,but then you take my hand and you take my soul with you whispered words:"I've fallen in love with you"The pleasant memory of holding your hand. Never do I want this feeling to fade.In the palm of your hand I felt a piece of your heart.
I can see all the pain you hide. No one can see how your hurting inside, but I can see so much when I look in your eyes and I can feel the pain from all the good-byes.Baby, just come to me and cry because on me you can rely.No more do you have to fear because I finally found you, I'm here.Just open your heart and let me in.I can make love and happiness begin.You won't be in the dark tonight because I'm here with your light, I've been through it all and I've taken that painful fall, but you walked into my life.Now I know that I'll be alright.I'll do whatever it takes to make the rain go away. That's the promise that I'll make...you don't have to be afraid. All you have to do is trust me and take my hand because I've been through it too, I understand.Break your heart, no I'll never...I want to be here, past forever. I've fallen in love with you, Can you tell? Do you know? Here in this charmed night that spinning lights shine down on us. And I can only think througout the sound of your voice echoing in my mind that I have found forever in your eyes. As we move together...past being strangers and the shadows;I still can't speak one word of this truth.My love is a silence,but then you take my hand and you take my soul with you whispered words:"I've fallen in love with you"The pleasant memory of holding your hand. Never do I want this feeling to fade.In the palm of your hand I felt a piece of your heart.
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