This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in our world which again stains our land and every one of our lives. It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown.
They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this world of ours. Why? What has violence ever accomplished?
What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet. No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders.
A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.
Whenever any human life is taken by another person unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.
"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lose their cause and pay the costs." Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment.
We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.
Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some humans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home.
Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them. Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul. For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors.
This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter. This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all. I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done.
When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered. We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers. Yet we know what we must do.
It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.
We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.
Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution. But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can. Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something.
Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.
The Fight:
What does it mean and where does it come from?
An Essay:
Homosapien. A man. He is alone in the universe.
A punker. Still a man. He is alone in the universe,
but he connects. How? They hit each other.
No clearer way to evaluate whether or not you're alive. Now. Complications. A reason to fight.
Somebody different. Difference creates dispute.
Dispute is a reason to fight. Now, to fight is a reason to feel pain. Life is pain.
So to fight with reason is to be alive with reason.
Final analysis:
To fight, a reason to live.
Problems and Contradictions
I believe that there should be no rules, only chaos. Fighting appears to be chaos. And when we slam in the pit a show it is.
But when we fight for a reason, like rednecks,
there's a system, we fight for what we stand for, chaos. Fighting is a structure, fighting is to establish power, power is government and government is not anarchy. Government is war and war is fighting.
The circle goes like this:
our redneck skirmishes are cheap perversions of conventional warfare. War implies extreme government because wars are fought to enforce rules or ideals,
even freedom.
But other people ideals forced on someone else, even if it is something like freedom, is still a rule; not anarchy. This contradiction was becoming clear to me in the fall of '85. Even as early as my first party,
"Why did I love to fight?" I framed it, but still,
I don't understand it.
It goes against my beliefs as a true anarchist.
But there it was. Competition, fighting, capitalism, government, THE SYSTEM. That's what we did.
It's what we always did.
Rednecks kicked the shit out of punks, punks kicked the shit out of mods, mods kicked the shit out of skinheads, skinheads took out the heavy metal guys,
and the heavy metal guys beat the living shit out of new wavers and the new wavers did nothing.
What was the point?
Final summation? None.
[.:CAPRICORN:.] The passionate Lover
Love to bust. Nice. Sassy. Intelligent. Sexy. Predict future. Irrestible, awesome kisser. Loves being in long relationships. Great talker. Always gets what he or she wants. BY FAR the BEST in BED. Very sexy. Coolest. Loves to own Gemini's in sports.
Extremely fun. Loves to joke. Loves to be your first. So you'll never forget. Smart.
yeah i'm good :p
a guy posted this on IAMbme
this is from a sketch show "kids in the hall"
and i just found it to good to just let it alone
Dave: Hi, my name’s Dave Foley, and something you might not know about me is that … I have a good attitude towards menstruation.
That’s right, I’m the guy! The guy with a good attitude towards menstruation!
Oh, I know a lot of men are made uncomfortable by this monthly miracle. But not me. No, I embrace it. Embrace it the way the way some men embrace the weekend! Why I anticipate it the way a child anticipates Christmas!
Did you know that in alot of native Indian cultures, menstruating woman were forced to leave the village, lest their powerful magic should overwhelm the Shaman? If I were Shaman, I wouldn’t be so competitive. I’d be more open and giving. I’d be a shaman with … a good attitude towards menstruation!
‘Cause after all, what is it? A cluster of blood vessels, awaiting a fertilized egg. Providing a safe warm place for that egg to grow. And if a life does not occur, the whole thing is flushed away, and the cycle begins again. Now is that anything to be ashamed of or disgusted by? No, this is the nesting stuff of humanity!
That’s why the woman I shall love will be able to menstruate as fully and freely as she desires. Even if her monthly flow should build in intensity to a raging rust-coloured torrent! An unbridled river of life giving blood flowing from between her legs! An awesome cataract plunging off the edge of our couch. I wouldn’t be fazed! No, no, even if coureur de bois would come up stream, battling the rapids, and singing a jaunty song, I would take no offense, rather I would ford across that mighty womanly river, and fetch herbal tea and Pamprin.
And then I would mop her brow and admire her fecundity.
For I…Have A Good Attitude….Towa
______________
[I need:] love and hate to survive
[I find:] that humans are destroying the earth
[I want:] a other world created by me
[I have:] everything but a world to call my own
[I wish:] for nothing for most wished don't come true
[I hate:] all humans but a few
[I fear:] nothing
[I am:] the pain you feel, the earth you walk on, the water you drink, the fire that keeps you warm, the air you breath, the womb that gives you life, the love you feel, i'm the univers you live in I am a angel of darkness
[I love:] some that are close to me
[I miss:] nothing
[I feel:] everything
[I know:] all
[I crave:] for the touch of flesh
[I should:] bring a darkness upon the humans
[I search:] chaos
[I wonder:] what time is
[I regret:]opening my hart to a few because they just destroyd it
strange days are at my door
strange days have found us..strange days have tracked us down!
but there is a way to conquer them but the road is long one may lose himself but at the end meet again
for it is nothing but a spiritual journey to find the true meaning of ones emotions
But in the lonely hours when the moon's the only light,
I thought about the times when I turned my back and stalled
I ain't no nice guy after all.
o no they are not a gift from god
they are a unholly curse from the beast we call the desolate one
The first of the fallen, the spoiler of virgins, the master of abortions
Let me help you outta your chair, grandma...
...Grandma, what was it like|To be on that holiday site...
...Late at night, I awoke from my...
...Sleep, hearing, unknown, voices...
LAUGHING INSANE!!!
All hail the ale
where would you be without rules?Thats right France
where would you be with to many rules? germany
where would you be with rules favoring the cyclists?
Holland
Vor uns liegt Deutschland . . .In uns lebt Deutschland . . .und hinter uns marschiert Deutschland
The star fell
That is no ordinary star. That is the tear of a warrior.
What is a warrior?
One who has finished his battle somewhere on this planet...
A pitiful soul that could not believe in the Great Spirit...
Mountain...
Heavy are Mountains.
But that changes over time.
Sky...
Blue Sky.
What your eyes can’t see.
What your eyes can see.
Sun...
There is only one
Water...
Comforting.
Ayla san?
Flower...
So many alike.
So many useless.
Sky...
Red, red sky.
Red is the color.
Red is the color I hate.
Water Flowing.
Blood...
The smell of blood.
A woman who never bleeds.
From the red earth comes man.
From the soil.
Born of man and woman is Man.
Town...
A human creation.
Robot...
A human creation as well.
What is human?
A creation of god?
Is it a human creation?
The things I possess are my life and soul.
Meditation...
The throne of a soul.
Who is this? This is me.
Who am I? Who am I? Who am I?
I am myself.
This, that which is, is myself.
That which is formed is me.
This is the me that can be seen,
Yet it feels as if this is not myself.
A strange feeling.
I feel the presence of someone who is not me.
Who is there, beyond me here?
Who are you?
Who are you?
Who are you?
my believes besides christianety i explored wicca, celtic and viking believes, buddhism and a little bit of hinduism
but my believe of the univers is this
all things in the univers need energy to live and grow
and if one thing dies that energy returns to a huge collectif to rest there until it has to be used again to let new life grow
i do believe in heaven and in a hell but not really like they explain but as a state of mind heaven being everything you wanted feeling warm having your friends close and not a worry in the sky
and the hell a place where you are alone feeling a void inside
funny conversation between stewie and brian
-Brian: say something
-Stewie: what?
-Brian: just say something! please
-Stewie: ow for god sake,euhm euh yey and God said to abraham,'you will kill your son isaack.'
And Abraham said 'I cant hear you, you have to speak into the microphone' and God said 'ow i'm sorry, is this better check check check jerry pull the higher note i'm still getting a hiss back here'
-Brian: say something about my mother
-Stewie: ow yes
and the ow so funny
-Stewie: What's this? Blueberries! Oh, oh my G ... oh, that's better than sex!
Save the whales, hey funcky momma save those whales
Hey pretty babe save those whales, save those beatback funcky whales
Well save our whales but shoot the seal
Yeah o shoot them seals
Ooh the seals eat all the fish
Ooh shoot the seals
I wonder how it feels
If you thing i’m funcky for shooting all the seals, save your breath