http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2010/03/19/arts/design/20100319-museum-slideshow_6.html
If you cannot see the purpose why these three pictures were placed together on the same page, please close your eyes for a second, open them once more and reconsider its purpose.
If you cannot understand why evolutionary followers believe we descended from monkeys, please see the three pictures presented in the link. Please observe the similarities between the bone structures, the placement of bones, the sockets, between humans and apes.
If you fail to see similarities in the bone structures, but rather rely on the differences in size, intelligence, and Biblical history, please take a second to review the pictures above. Repeat action until you see the similarities in bone structure.
If you think, "Ok... the apes bone structure resembles man because ape was also created by God." Please review Bible to find where a female ape was created from a male apes rib. Repeat as needed, for every animal in the animal kingdom where male and female genders exist.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
The Laughing Jew
NYTimes: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/17/world/middleeast/17mideast.html?hp
Here, again, is an example of the US position in the face of Israel's insolence. The decide to build on Palestinian land while Joe Biden is visiting the country, them possibly making a statement and he trying to get a working relationship working between the foes.
Done in all insolence
From the NYTimes:
"Last Tuesday the Israeli Interior Ministry announced 1,600 new housing units for Jews in Ramat Shlomo, another part of East Jerusalem, acutely embarrassing Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr., who was on a visit here. The move infuriated the Obama administration, coming soon after it had announced the start of American-brokered Israeli-Palestinian indirect peace talks, the first in more than a year.
Mr. Netanyahu apologized for the timing of the announcement and called it a mistake “done in all innocence.” But he has not shifted regarding Israel’s insistence on its right to continue building in all of Jerusalem. "
AMERICA the ophtalmologist trying to correct two blind eyes. We need a deo ex machina like old times to step in and stomp on civilization pick them up in arms impregnate a few for demigods for his entertainment so perhaps we can have more shows like hercules or xena on tv instead of this god awful war of sticks and stones and a well trained well armed well funded israeli army.
Israel has a bomb. It is a big big bomb. Back from the good ole days of proliferation. I sit and roll my hand into a fist and place it under my chin one foot reclined onto the side of the stone where I sit naked, thinking: Man, we've seen the things these human beings have built, created: lollipops, cotton balls, genetically modified thornless roses, and here else they're pasting metal, screwing screws, encasing plutonium in cute little bubbles, capable of reminding the world of those two Japanese incidents mentioned semi-proudly in American history books.
Well, everyone has one. India has one. North Korea has one. France has a few. Britain. Etc.
I mean everyone. The phrase at hand "Don't do onto other masses what we wouldn't like done onto us (at the hands of the few governing, of course)"
It is amazing they haven't made pocket sized a-bombs. Each one of us carrying one of those little Plutonium balls in our pockets, fully exercising a twist off the second amendment.
SO: Based on Murphy's Law those bombs will go off sometime. You know it won't be you or I that will be responsible. Possible, the domino theory will not be whose turning red or blue, but rather, one goes off here, the next one goes off there, and there, and there, and there until no one is left to utter a simple sweet word as 'om'.
Hamas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat Hamas.
Hamas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat H mas.
H mas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat H ma .
H ma th o s st n s t the Police.
The Police beat H m .
H m t o s n the Police.
The Police beat m .
m o n the Police.
The Police beat
the Police.
The Police
the Police
The Police
The Police
The Police
Socioeconomicpoliticoreligiocultural myopia rules at the end of the day.
Here, again, is an example of the US position in the face of Israel's insolence. The decide to build on Palestinian land while Joe Biden is visiting the country, them possibly making a statement and he trying to get a working relationship working between the foes.
Done in all insolence
From the NYTimes:
"Last Tuesday the Israeli Interior Ministry announced 1,600 new housing units for Jews in Ramat Shlomo, another part of East Jerusalem, acutely embarrassing Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr., who was on a visit here. The move infuriated the Obama administration, coming soon after it had announced the start of American-brokered Israeli-Palestinian indirect peace talks, the first in more than a year.
Mr. Netanyahu apologized for the timing of the announcement and called it a mistake “done in all innocence.” But he has not shifted regarding Israel’s insistence on its right to continue building in all of Jerusalem. "
AMERICA the ophtalmologist trying to correct two blind eyes. We need a deo ex machina like old times to step in and stomp on civilization pick them up in arms impregnate a few for demigods for his entertainment so perhaps we can have more shows like hercules or xena on tv instead of this god awful war of sticks and stones and a well trained well armed well funded israeli army.
Israel has a bomb. It is a big big bomb. Back from the good ole days of proliferation. I sit and roll my hand into a fist and place it under my chin one foot reclined onto the side of the stone where I sit naked, thinking: Man, we've seen the things these human beings have built, created: lollipops, cotton balls, genetically modified thornless roses, and here else they're pasting metal, screwing screws, encasing plutonium in cute little bubbles, capable of reminding the world of those two Japanese incidents mentioned semi-proudly in American history books.
Well, everyone has one. India has one. North Korea has one. France has a few. Britain. Etc.
I mean everyone. The phrase at hand "Don't do onto other masses what we wouldn't like done onto us (at the hands of the few governing, of course)"
It is amazing they haven't made pocket sized a-bombs. Each one of us carrying one of those little Plutonium balls in our pockets, fully exercising a twist off the second amendment.
SO: Based on Murphy's Law those bombs will go off sometime. You know it won't be you or I that will be responsible. Possible, the domino theory will not be whose turning red or blue, but rather, one goes off here, the next one goes off there, and there, and there, and there until no one is left to utter a simple sweet word as 'om'.
Hamas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat Hamas.
Hamas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat H mas.
H mas throws stones at the Police.
The Police beat H ma .
H ma th o s st n s t the Police.
The Police beat H m .
H m t o s n the Police.
The Police beat m .
m o n the Police.
The Police beat
the Police.
The Police
the Police
The Police
The Police
The Police
Socioeconomicpoliticoreligiocultural myopia rules at the end of the day.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Meta-article: Nigerians Recount...
I see: An article recounting the mass murder of 500 Christian Nigerians by Muslim tribesmen. You can e-mail, send to phone, print, reprint, and share this article with family, friends, and acquaintances. 10 men sit on the ground of the picture, two framed pictures in the background portray two angles of the same child- a girl in a puffy white dress. More pictures hang pinned onto panels on the wall. A few of them stare at you, most stare off to the side. Many of them appear to be military. There is a possibility that it is one or a handful of men represented in the pictures. Many wear military uniforms, from pins to berets with indeterminate insignias. If the world were reflected by what is seen on these pictures, the phrase “it’s a man’s world” wouldn’t be far from the truth. The oxymoronic essence is not apparent: the military- symbols of restrained, constrained, destroyed childhoods repressed by uniforms and strict thoughts: the child below, unaware of a world where there is need for military, free in the little white dress barely discovering the world around her.
The men on the floor, detained as guilty, offer different faces for the camera. To think they were once children… Yet, to see and report was is seen is not to assume pasts or presume futures. The truth: Two men, two women, one stick, one short knife resulting in three dead one living, a crime.
I often think the dead don’t worry, the dead don’t judge, the dead don’t suffer. The living do.
I see: A web-ad to ‘PACQUIAO-CLOTTEY: THE EVENT’. The sport: BOXING. Here, in an article about 500 killings, is included an ad to a boxing match. Pacquiao and Clottey both stare at you with the same grim, intense look as some of the men in the picture below. Our souls deep inside wonder what have we done to create a world where faces must thus look at you.
The other ad, showing a dirty Caucasian man with a look of anguish on his face appeals you to click on the box to play a snippet from HBO’s ‘The Pacific.’ The Subject: War. More precisely: WWII. And what did we do, as readers, to ask to be furthered directed towards death?! Isn’t war about death? Some would say war is more about ideals. Are we better because of it? Some would say yes. However, I must not indulge in speculation, rather speak of what I further see.
I see an ad that simply says CYRUS, July 9. It holds no appeal. Good luck getting my accidental click. Slightly down, off to the right, an actress from “The Miracle Worker” also carries an anguished, insane look on her face: the shivering lips, the disheveled curls of the hair, the square chin, the exposed lobe…
Focus back on the article, you read about the weapons confiscated- “14 machetes, 26 bows, arrows, 3 axes, 4 spears, and 44 guns.” (Play chess for chrissakes!)To think that these had often been used as tools rather than weapons; as tools for hunting, tools for clearing the ground for agriculture, tools. But I forget, tribal was is as old as sand. Tribes have been dispersed and urbanized only fairly recently in history. Tribes still persist in some areas, i.e. Afghanistan. Tribes, once romanticized by their sense of communal support, by their long folkloric traditions, by their unique languages and habits, now struggle to remain as tribes in the face of global urbanization (globalization), at the hand of a new world order- yes, I said new world order, meaning not the apocalyptic, deliberately conceived rule of one central world government, but rather a gradual loss of specific cultures developed by isolation exchanged for a modern, interconnected eclectic culture blending in the most prevalent languages and cultural habits (Nihau where hello stood, forks were chopsticks stood, soy where barley stood), or the Darwinian rule applied to cultural survival as tied to political powers and economics.
Like a thief in the night they stole into cots and shot and cut without mercy.
Like the Trojan horse they waited till nightfall to turns dreams into nightmares.
Will it be eye for eye? We will see.
The men on the floor, detained as guilty, offer different faces for the camera. To think they were once children… Yet, to see and report was is seen is not to assume pasts or presume futures. The truth: Two men, two women, one stick, one short knife resulting in three dead one living, a crime.
I often think the dead don’t worry, the dead don’t judge, the dead don’t suffer. The living do.
I see: A web-ad to ‘PACQUIAO-CLOTTEY: THE EVENT’. The sport: BOXING. Here, in an article about 500 killings, is included an ad to a boxing match. Pacquiao and Clottey both stare at you with the same grim, intense look as some of the men in the picture below. Our souls deep inside wonder what have we done to create a world where faces must thus look at you.
The other ad, showing a dirty Caucasian man with a look of anguish on his face appeals you to click on the box to play a snippet from HBO’s ‘The Pacific.’ The Subject: War. More precisely: WWII. And what did we do, as readers, to ask to be furthered directed towards death?! Isn’t war about death? Some would say war is more about ideals. Are we better because of it? Some would say yes. However, I must not indulge in speculation, rather speak of what I further see.
I see an ad that simply says CYRUS, July 9. It holds no appeal. Good luck getting my accidental click. Slightly down, off to the right, an actress from “The Miracle Worker” also carries an anguished, insane look on her face: the shivering lips, the disheveled curls of the hair, the square chin, the exposed lobe…
Focus back on the article, you read about the weapons confiscated- “14 machetes, 26 bows, arrows, 3 axes, 4 spears, and 44 guns.” (Play chess for chrissakes!)To think that these had often been used as tools rather than weapons; as tools for hunting, tools for clearing the ground for agriculture, tools. But I forget, tribal was is as old as sand. Tribes have been dispersed and urbanized only fairly recently in history. Tribes still persist in some areas, i.e. Afghanistan. Tribes, once romanticized by their sense of communal support, by their long folkloric traditions, by their unique languages and habits, now struggle to remain as tribes in the face of global urbanization (globalization), at the hand of a new world order- yes, I said new world order, meaning not the apocalyptic, deliberately conceived rule of one central world government, but rather a gradual loss of specific cultures developed by isolation exchanged for a modern, interconnected eclectic culture blending in the most prevalent languages and cultural habits (Nihau where hello stood, forks were chopsticks stood, soy where barley stood), or the Darwinian rule applied to cultural survival as tied to political powers and economics.
Like a thief in the night they stole into cots and shot and cut without mercy.
Like the Trojan horse they waited till nightfall to turns dreams into nightmares.
Will it be eye for eye? We will see.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
IR Rrrrrrrrrrr
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8558347.stm
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/08/world/asia/08china.html?scp=2&sq=china&st=cse
US-Israel-China
Where is the glory of AMERICA? WHERE IT BE?! See here!?
They will do what they want to do because we are not as large as we used to be.
We will wave our index finger at them, vicariously through Rice or Clinton or whomever, and they will insolently nod at our boldness; they will nod and think how pathetic we look waving that finger up and down in that “do this and do that” fashion, meanwhile staring at the holes in our pockets, at our liquid money dripping like piss down our pants onto some cracked floor.
Rename ourselves America the humble; no longer America the proud.
Who is proud?! I have heard the proud sing the National Anthem drunk in a frat boy’s basement! Now THERE’s your source of pride. THERE ARE YOUR GMS, YOUR FORDS, YOUR CHEVYS, YOUR JEEPS. THERE YOUR MASSIVE F250s COMPETING FOR QUICK ON THE FAST LANE, while the rest of us sweat and pray sweat and pray oh god please don’t let those idiots crash in front of me!
I have seen the proud grow heavy at the anxious munching,
The proud complain about the diversity of language,
the proud refusing to believe that things
are changing,
can change,
will change.
Rename ourselves America the humble, and work towards raising the land once more, once more to the land our father’s remember, a land of freshly paved highways, spearheading technology, producing, exporting, having the authority and SENSE to REASON, having the patience to once again rediscover our neighbors, having the ability to understand that reality is not you nor I, but we and us. US.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/08/world/asia/08china.html?scp=2&sq=china&st=cse
US-Israel-China
Where is the glory of AMERICA? WHERE IT BE?! See here!?
They will do what they want to do because we are not as large as we used to be.
We will wave our index finger at them, vicariously through Rice or Clinton or whomever, and they will insolently nod at our boldness; they will nod and think how pathetic we look waving that finger up and down in that “do this and do that” fashion, meanwhile staring at the holes in our pockets, at our liquid money dripping like piss down our pants onto some cracked floor.
Rename ourselves America the humble; no longer America the proud.
Who is proud?! I have heard the proud sing the National Anthem drunk in a frat boy’s basement! Now THERE’s your source of pride. THERE ARE YOUR GMS, YOUR FORDS, YOUR CHEVYS, YOUR JEEPS. THERE YOUR MASSIVE F250s COMPETING FOR QUICK ON THE FAST LANE, while the rest of us sweat and pray sweat and pray oh god please don’t let those idiots crash in front of me!
I have seen the proud grow heavy at the anxious munching,
The proud complain about the diversity of language,
the proud refusing to believe that things
are changing,
can change,
will change.
Rename ourselves America the humble, and work towards raising the land once more, once more to the land our father’s remember, a land of freshly paved highways, spearheading technology, producing, exporting, having the authority and SENSE to REASON, having the patience to once again rediscover our neighbors, having the ability to understand that reality is not you nor I, but we and us. US.
El callejon de mi abuela.
Era en el callejon de mi abuela donde las cenizas
se tiraban y estrechaban
Dispersaban y mojaban
Y de vez en cuando los chiquillos
Alli mismo orinaban.
El callejon encajado :
Entre un muro de ladrillos
De la Ferreteria de los Yuja-
Al otro lado,
el muro de barro
Lleno de huecos y recuerdos
De oscuridades y memorias
De ecos de sonidos ya olvidados.
Desde alli, los desfiles pasaban
Como pasan los pajaros
Por veces volando
Bajo un cielo nublado.
Nos trepabamos al muro
Sostenidos del tejado,
Las tejas vestian de moho
Y un opaco anaranjado.
Cuantas lluvias aguantaron
Cuantos soles descarados
Cuantas noches sin luna
Cuantos gatos alli posaron.
Callejon de mi vida,
Callejon de la memoria,
Donde las cenizas se tiraban
Se apagaban y dispersaban.
se tiraban y estrechaban
Dispersaban y mojaban
Y de vez en cuando los chiquillos
Alli mismo orinaban.
El callejon encajado :
Entre un muro de ladrillos
De la Ferreteria de los Yuja-
Al otro lado,
el muro de barro
Lleno de huecos y recuerdos
De oscuridades y memorias
De ecos de sonidos ya olvidados.
Desde alli, los desfiles pasaban
Como pasan los pajaros
Por veces volando
Bajo un cielo nublado.
Nos trepabamos al muro
Sostenidos del tejado,
Las tejas vestian de moho
Y un opaco anaranjado.
Cuantas lluvias aguantaron
Cuantos soles descarados
Cuantas noches sin luna
Cuantos gatos alli posaron.
Callejon de mi vida,
Callejon de la memoria,
Donde las cenizas se tiraban
Se apagaban y dispersaban.
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