Lord ,my wife doesn't know what I go through

A man was sick and tired of going to work every day while his wife stayed home. He wanted her to see what he went through so he prayed: "Dear Lord: I go to work every day and put in 8 hours while my wife merely stays at home. I want her to know  what I go through, so please allow her body to switch with mine for a day.

God, in his infinite wisdom, granted the man's wish. The next morning, sure enough, the man awoke as a woman. He arose, cooked breakfast for his wife, awakened the kids, Set out their school clothes, fed them breakfast, packed their lunches, Drove them to school, came home and picked up the dirty clothes,washed them.  And stopped at the bank to make a deposit, went grocery shopping, Then drove home to put away the groceries, Paid the bills. He cleaned the cattle shed. Then it was already 1 P.M. and he hurried to make the beds, and sweep and mop the kitchen floor. Ran to the school to pick up the kids and got into an argument with them on the way home. Set out snacks and got the kids organized to do their homework, then set up the ironing board and watched TV while he did the ironing. At 4:30 he began peeling potatoes and washing vegetables for supper, prepared rice and snapped fresh beans for supper.

After supper, he cleaned the kitchen, ran the dishwasher, folded clean laundry, bathed the kids, and put them to bed. At 9 P.M. He was exhausted and, though his daily chores weren't finished, he went to bed where he was expected to play the role as a wife, which he managed to get through without complaint.

The next morning, he awoke and immediately knelt by the bed and said, Lord, I don't know what I was thinking. I was so wrong to envy my wife's being able to stay home all day. Please, oh please, let us trade back." The Lord, in his infinite wisdom, replied, "My son, I feel you have learned your lesson and I will be happy to change things back to the way they were.

About Einstein

Once the professor of a university challenged his students with this question. "Did God create everything that exists?"

A student answered bravely, "Yes,he did".

The professor then asked, "If God created everything, then he created evil. Since evil exists (as noticed by our own actions), so God is evil.

The student couldn't respond to that statement causing the professor to conclude that he had "proved" that "belief in God" was a fairy tale, and therefore worthless.

Another student raised his hand and asked the professor, "May I pose a question? ",
"Of course" answered the professor. The young student stood up and asked : "Professor does Cold exists?"


The young student answered, "In fact sir, Cold does not exist.According to the laws of Physics, what we consider cold, in fact is the absence of heat. Anything is able to be studied as long as it transmits, energy (heat). Absolute Zero is the total absence of heat, but cold does not exist. What we have done is create a term to describe how we feel if we don't have body heat or we are not hot." "And, does Dark exist?", he continued.

The professor answered "Of course".

This time the student responded, "Again you're wrong, Sir. Darkness does not exist either. Darkness is in fact simply the absence of light. Light can be studied, darkness can not. Darkness cannot be broken down. A simple ray of light tears the darkness and illuminates the surface where the light beam finishes. Dark is a term that we humans have created to describe what happens when there's lack of light."

Finally, the student asked the professor, "Sir, does evil exist?"

The professor replied, "Of course it exists, as I mentioned at the beginning, we see violations, crimes and violence anywhere in the world, and those things are evil."

The student responded, "Sir, Evil does not exist. Just as in the previous cases, Evil is a term which man has created to describe the result of the absence of God's presence in the hearts of man.

After this, the professor bowed down his head, and didn't answer back.

The young man's name was " ALBERT EINSTEIN."

STEVE JOBS

I dropped out of Reed College after the first six months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: “We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?” They said: “Of course.” My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents’ savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn’t see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn’t interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn’t all romantic. I didn’t have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends’ rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn’t have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can’t capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, it’s likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn’t know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down – that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple’s current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I’m pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn’t been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don’t lose faith. I’m convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You’ve got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don’t settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn’t even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor’s code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you’d have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I’m fine now.

This was the closest I’ve been to facing death, and I hope it’s the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poeti touch. This was in the late 1960′s, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Thank you.

The Apple of Love

"Can I see my baby?" the happy new mother asked. When the bundle was nestled in her arms and she moved the fold of cloth to look upon his tiny face, she gasped. The doctor turned quickly and looked out the tall hospital window.

The baby had been born without ears. Time proved that the baby's hearing was perfect. It was only his appearance that was marred. When he rushed home from school one day and flung himself into his mother's arms, she sighed, knowing that his life was to be a succession of heartbreaks. He blurted out the tragedy. "A boy, a big boy...called me a freak."

He grew up, handsome for his misfortune. A favorite with his fellow students, he might have been class president, but for that. He developed a gift, a talent for literature and music. "But you might mingle with other young people," his mother reproved him, but felt a kindness in her heart.

The boy's father had a session with the family physician..."Could nothing be done?" "I believe I could graft on a pair of outer ears, if they could be procured" the doctor decided. Whereupon the search began for a person who would make such a sacrifice for a young man.

Two years went by. One day, his father said to the son, "You're going to the hospital, son. Mother and I have someone who will donate the ears you need. But it's a secret," said the father. The operation was a brilliant success, and a new person emerged. His talents blossomed into genius, and school and college became a series of triumphs.

Later he married and led the diplomatic service. One day, he asked his father, "Who gave me the ears? Who gave me so much? I could never do enough for him or her." "I do not believe you could, "said the father, "but the agreement was that you are not to know...not yet." The years kept their profound secret, but the day did come. One of the darkest days that ever pass through a son. He stood with his father over his mother's casket. Slowly, tenderly, the father stretched forth a hand and raised the thick, black-brown hair to reveal the mother had no outer ears. "Mother said she was glad she never let her hair be cut," his father whispered gently, "and nobody ever thought mother less beautiful, did they"?

fashion fabulous

                                              ..................elegance..................................

                                             ...................designer..........................................

Just another broken heart....

It wasn't about love, not even some kind of connection.I guess I remember my counselor talking of ' being connected'. Okay, well there was connection. Just a little omnipotent feeling that I never felt before in my heart. It started out simple, he came to everyone and offered every single lady a flower, day by day. One day.. I received mine, I was literally bursting with happy twinkles.

I hid though, and simply shoved the flower in my pocket. I mumbled a thank you and asked quietly.. "Do you think you'll woe me with a flower, like every other girl?". He .. laughed.. so gently and gentleman-like. That got my heart. He took it at that moment. He said.. " No.. I believe every lady should feel loved and cared for, nothing more. A simple gift, much like my flowers.. can be a great thing for a broken heart." 

I blinked. Dazed. And amazed. He was the answer to my prayers. I was sure. As time passed by, we became friends.. good friends. He was there whenever I needed him, I felt he could protect me from the hurt and pain. At times, I confided to some of my close friends .. and I did realize how quickly inquisitive he'd get. I never understood why. I mean, he looked like he had a stone for a heart.But all I knew is that he was in love with God;his ways and speech would definitely tell you that. I knew .. that he knew that I felt uncomfortable around him for it was obvious. Very obvious. Everyone noticed it. He never did anything about it.

Then one.. day, that very special day in October, he came to me.. and said "I've always admired your strong-willed character, I always did.. please.. push aside our differences and let us become friends. I never did like the words you spoke to the other people about me, I care about you and for the record am not arrogant ." I was shocked, bewildered.. and finally happy. He gave me a hug then burst out laughing.I thought.....weird!.I had never envisioned him to be the caring type That moment was tragically magic. I felt alive... I felt.. loved. 

As days passed, we laughed, smiled and shared stories. Oh.. how sweet it was. It was something I wanted to hold onto. Something I didn't want to leave me. But eventually.. it descended to the darkness. I committed wrong things, things he did not like.. and when he scolded me for it.. I grew scared and nervous, and soon demanded that we should end this relationship. 

He was baffled, and somewhat speechless. He left without another word. That night I thought.. what was I thinking? Why would I do that? As I thought over it, my eyes blurred, and I cried.. I cried with such violence I was afraid I'd wake the others. Finally.. I slept. In the morning I immediately went to him and asked for forgiveness. I was on my knees, believe it or not.. I was on my knees,-I thought that I was proud. He looked down at me with such coldness, it sent icy daggers through my chest. With no avail, he shook his head "No" and walked away. I was broken, frail and.. alone. I cried out into the sky and cried more, never ending tears.

As I went home, I crawled into bed and remained there... for longest of times. Crying, crying.. and shaking. I had looked up to him. He was my best friend.I had confided in him,I trusted him. I thought over our times and only cried more. My depression was poison. Its been about three years and a half, and here I am. My heart aches still, but as I look past my time with him.. as I smile and look down at the flower he first gave.. I know.. that there's hope. Now that the flower is down a river, finding its path.. alone.

Your tomorrow

We seem to look for better times,
forget the ones we’ve got.
We think of things we can get,
the ones we have matter not.

We hope for dreams we soon shall find,
forget the ones we own.
We think of how much we may grow,
forget how much we’ve grown.

We think of where we can later go.
don’t take in where we are.
We dream of where or success will be
but seem not to go far.

If we look forward to tomorrow,
We never see today.
If we think only of our future,
our present on a shelf will stay.

When you look up into the sky,
and a dream is all you see.
If you keep on looking for tomorrow,
tomorrow will never be.

What happened to thought?

Where did the thinking people go? They were there it seems just a moment ago, and then when I looked around, they were gone.

You remember thinking, don't you? That exercise where you took disparate elements and bounced them around in your mind; testing one thesis against another; comparing one with the other; looking at alternative views? You say, you don't remember? Perhaps that is because we have evolved beyond thought.

What happened to thought? Where did it go? It was nothing less, dear reader, than murder most foul. Yes, thought has died, and we are the perpetrators of this most heinous crime. We have killed it, and left it to lie bleached and dessicated under the blazing sun, on the barren sands of greed and selfishness. We murdered thought when we surrendered our free will to the panderers of partisan wrangling and sound bite discourse.

Our obsession with instant gratification and the inability to take the time for patient analysis had already sapped thought of much of its vitality, rendering it vulnerable and weak. It was knocked to its knees by our reckless pursuit of short term profits and instant solutions.

Our educational system, with its focus on tests without intellectual content, was an unindicted conspirator in the slaying. Fear of lawsuits and anger from parents who wanted little Faith to pass whether or not she could read or count to ten without letting her conceptualize whatever she was saying. Schools that pushed millions of barely literate 'graduates' out into the world were the scenes of the crime.

A legal system that aided and abetted development of a culture of blaming others for whatever goes wrong, and never accepting personal responsibility played a critical role in the death of thought. We quit thinking for ourselves; the system was there to do this on our behalf. Like the fish that lives in  darkness and finally evolves into a creature without eyes, we are rapidly becoming organisms who only need our brains to perform the necessary functions that keep us alive, like eating, breathing and heartbeat.

Thought is dead. One can only hope and pray that, like Lazarus, it can be brought back to life before it is too late.

Interview with God

An 10 year old girl by the name of Cierra laid on her bed as she watched the ceiling. She glanced over and looked at the picture of Jesus on her wall. Cierra had spent all of her young life in church. Her father is the pastor at Mt. Zion Baptist Church and her mother holds the position of music director. Cierra remembered her father during Sunday service would tell the congregation If you talk to God He will talk to you. Cierra looked at the picture again. She was trying to muster up enough courage to ask God some questions and most of all to see if He would respond.

"God why is there so much violence in the world?"

There was silence. Cierra waited. She knew that God is real however she did not know if He would answer but she knew that He was able. With in five minutes of her asking Cierra heard a small still voice." "Cierra, Cierra" the voice called. Cierra said" speak Lord for your child is listening." The voice said "I did not create violence. I'm not the author of confusion. I have given man a lot of precious gifts and one of them is free will. I have made them free will agents. They have to choose to do well. My will is that they will choose life and not death. For in me there is life, peace and joy."

"God why did you send your son Jesus to die for me and mankind?"

"When I created Adam and Eve they had a wonderful relationship with me. I would walk through the garden in the cool of the day and commune with them. When Satan appeared to Eve in the garden and they disobeyed me that relationship was severed. I sent my son Jesus so that man can be reconciled back unto me."

"God why did you create the devil?"

"The devil did not start off as the devil. I created Lucifer- Son of the Morning. He decided that he wanted to exalt himself above Me. The spirit of pride began to take him over and he was cast out of Heaven along with one third of the angels. These angles became his followers."

"God I hear my daddy say that you are coming back again. God are you really coming back?"

"My dear child I come everyday for my people. I will return. The key is not when will I return, but will you be ready when I return? No one knows that day or the hour, but I want you to tell them to be ready."

"You want me to tell them to be ready?" asked Cierra. "Yes" said God. "I'm going to use you at an early age to spread my word. I love your child like faith that I have placed in you. Do not be afraid of their faces and do not let them tell you that you are only a child. I will always be with you. I will never leave you nor forsake you. As you begin to study my word you will open your mouth and I will speak through you."

Cierra laid there with tears falling from her eyes. She knew that she had spoken with God but most of all she knew that God had spoken too her.

An interview with God.

Without Courage

Of all the virtues man acquires, I believe Courage is the most universally respected and admired. Contrary to popular opinion, Courage is not dealing with a situation with reckless abandon, nor meeting a challenge without regard to consequences. To me, courage is a much more complex and comprehensive set of behavioral characteristics arising from one’s beliefs about life and how you chose to live life. Aristotle, the ancient Greek philosopher, described it accurately as:

“Courage is the first of human qualities;

Because it is the quality which guarantees the others”.              
         
The act of Courage is much more than facing a danger or taking on a challenge.  It is a quality of spirit that enables you to act appropriately in the face of the unexpected challenges.

It is the strength of character that allows you to face apparent obstacles or dangers or the unknown with measured responses and a commitment to succeed. Equally, it can also be facing defeat and knowing that you will come out of the encounter wiser and richer.

Like most human characteristics, courage is not inherited and is not present at birth, but is developed and nurtured gradually by learning and by exposure to risk taking. Children who are not afforded the opportunity to meet and deal with challenges are necessarily lacking this ability and invariably find difficulty in responding to situations with the level of courage needed.

 Courage, to be managed successfully, requires the use of all the elements of human behavior. Unlike the blind, impulsive response of a rage reaction which is no different than an animal response, true courage draws on a complex mix of human characteristics including  experience, maturity, intelligence, confidence and logic. To be successful the response must be balanced and directed, with a definitive, realistic goal.

Examples of Courage and Courageous behavior abound all around us but most of the time we do not recognize them. Some are easy to recognize such as when a police officer faces an armed assailant, his action is one of supreme courage, similarly when a soldier is sent in harm’s way, he carries his courage each time, for they know they risk serious consequences. In other situations Courage is expressed in the form of commitment.

 The truth is that courage is expressed in millions of diverse ways by so many of us without any concern of gain or reward. The only consideration is the intention to do the right thing at all cost. This above all, is the essential component for leading a life of fulfillment and satisfaction.

As Maya Angelou, the celebrated Florida-based, African-American poet, noted:

 One isn't necessarily born with Courage, but one is born with potential.

Without Courage, we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency.

We can't be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest”.

Her confession.

She had soaked it all in, but by one look on her face I knew that she was keeping something from me. I never tried asking but I looked at her in a manner to suggest that she had better start talking or else I will just have to extract the information from her using my own ‘tennee’ means.

Marlene is her name, my best friend in campus. It was the wee hours of the day when we were having our chit-chat after lectures when she finally confided in me.

--------------------

She loved to watch him. She loved to get lost in the very few, but deep, aging lines in his forehead, imagining the struggles he has had in his life, and recognizing how beautifully they had shaped a boy into this man that stood before her. She loved hearing his voice, like a Ethiopian song to an Kenyan audience; they didn’t speak the language, but had hopes for the day when they might understand the meaning of those so elegantly grouped together words, in a tone that confirms its mastery of the language. A tone that humors you as you try to keep up, in a non-degrading way. His lips would quiver in a very secretive manner when he made a joke and none of us could process it fast enough to share the childish giggle with him. Even Marlene herself.

When she got lost in her head, walking through all of the possible encounters with him on the campus corridors she had yet the invitation to enjoy, he would often catch her off guard with a question she had no answer to. She would then just gaze blankly at him. Besides what could she possibly have in her feeble conformed mind that would be of any entertainment to him? He looked sharp and a mastery of all trades in a manner only Marlene could describe even though my vantage point was totally different from hers. That’s what she feared, she knew none of her daydreaming would get her any closer to being able to have a one-on-one conversation with him. She knew that he was far to busy living his life to spare the time to impact hers in a more  direct way. She did not wish to be the lady he came home to, that she imagined would nag him for problems so miniscule. Nor did she want to take him away from his own world. She simply wanted to talk with him, get to know more about him, let him know her.

He was beautifully broken, yet so held together. He was ugly in the most attractive way. That was my friends description. Physically he was not much to look at, his body held his thinning head about six feet and 2 inches off of the ground, in the middle there was a slight belly that suggested he didn’t do much on weekends. His  torso with a simple T-shirt. His face was normal, nothing misproportioned, nothing too stunning, except his eyes. His eyes were the most excruciating mind dazzling subject she had come across. The windows to his mind, and much like his mind, they were confident. They had the effect of a light to a moth, a light that once inside you shines so brightly it’s hard to fathom its presence.

Every word that came so ghost-like out of his mouth was treated like the word of God by her. And that’s precisely what he was to her, a god of sorts, an answer her questioning the importance of knowledge. He was her very own faith, taking shape. And it was the shape of a twenty-three year old man standing at the front of a half-filled classroom pouring his genius into tiny heads like Marlenes’.They looked in a metaphoric way, like rags already soaked in sticky fluid, trying to soak up the rest of a spill. They tried, and tried, week after week, to wring out all of the old knowledge so that they would have room for his much more significant teachings. And that’s where she is left every Tuesday afternoon, talking about the mystery man after lectures.

-------------

I liked to pick on her but this day I couldn’t. It was all in her eyes. She knew I would not judge  or question her faith because I was her friend. Marlene didn’t look up the whole time. But that was normal for her. We were all silent for some time, then we burst out laughing.

She knew my answer…..

The subpoena

His whisper , “This is strange.”, is so ardent that I believe him, and her whisper,


“Yes.”

 is the same.

“We just grew apart.” — Cliché, but the only explanation available to him.


She nods.

Neither, though, realizes their error. Their exchange proves otherwise. But for their intimacy, they could never let each other go as if nothing

“It’s the only way I can…”

— and yet everything —

“…be happy?”

— depended upon it. Their last sentence falls like a butterfly fading on wind, fluttering once more before it falls and fractures, its pieces tumbling across the earth, finding their own ends.

Amidst what would otherwise be tragedy, the couple exudes the ess, the artist’s curved line and point where motion changes direction, redefines itself, traps the eye. It is in the way they step about one another and choose their words, always mindful.

The judge calls them forward , “Do you swear to tell the truth…” ,with me, and I express their wishes. The judge asks questions he’s asked of so many before, but he pauses, looks over his glasses as if I could’ve saved them, spared him. He signs the documents, declares them divorced.

The next pair is called.

We exit.

Before the doors behind me have even closed they’ve each shaken my hand and walked away.

She drinks her canned water held in her hand.

He’s out the revolving door.

Air wafts up from behind me, moves around and past, and the new silence tells me the door is now closed. Tomorrow I think I’ll be able to save the rest.

The guest pastor

After a few of the usual Sunday evening Hymns, the church's Pastor stood up, walked over to the pulpit and before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in the service that evening.

In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was on of his dearest childhood friends and the he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service. With that an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.

"A father, his son and a friend of his son were sailing off the pacific coast." he began. "When a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized."

The old man hesitated for a moment. Making eye contact with two teenagers who were, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story.

"Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: to which boy would he throw the other end of the life line. He only had seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son's friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves. As the father yelled out. "I Love You, Son!" He threw out the life line to his son's friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered!

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old minister's mouth.
"The father," he continued, "knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping into an eternity without Jesus..
Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save the son's friend.

How great our heavenly father sacrificed his only begotten son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept His offer to rescue you and take a hold of the lifeline he is throwing out to you in this service. With that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence filled the room.

The pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. Within minutes after the service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man's side. "That was a nice story." Politely stated one of them, "but I don't think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son's life in hopes that the other boy would become a Christian." "Well you have a point there," the old man replied lancing down at his worn bible.

A big smile broadened his narrow face. He once again looked up at the boys and said, "It sure isn't very realistic, is it? But I'm standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up his son for me.
You see.... I was that father and your pastor is my son's friend."

Did he actually make it?

Satan called a worldwide convention. In his opening address to his Evil angels, he said,

"We can't keep the Christians from going to church. We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth. We can't even keep them from conservative values. But we can do something else. We can keep them from forming an intimate, abiding relationship with Christ. If they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken. So let them go to church, let them have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time so they can't gain that relationship with Jesus Christ. This is what I want you to do: distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day."

"How shall we do this?" shouted the angels.

"Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent unnumbered schemes to occupy their minds," he answered. "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, then borrow, borrow, borrow. Convince the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work six or seven days a week, 10-12 hours a day so they can afford their lifestyles. Keep them from spending time with their children. As their family fragments, soon their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work. Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small voice of God. Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive, to keep the TV, VCR, CDs and their PCs going constantly in their homes. Fill their coffee tables with magazines and newspapers. Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day. Invade their driving moments with billboards. Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, sweepstakes, mail order catalogs, and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering free products, services, and false hopes. Even intheir recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return from their recreation exhausted, disquieted and unprepared for the coming week. Don't let them go out in nature to reflect on the beauty of God's creation. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, concerts and movies instead."

"And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled emotions. Let them be involved in soul-winning, but crowd their love with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Christ. Soon, they will be working on their own strength, sacrificing their health and family unity for the good of the cause."

It was quite a convention in the end. The evil angels went eagerly to their assignments, causing Christians everywhere to get busy, busy, busy, and rush here and there. Has the devil been successful at his scheme?
You be the judge.

B eing
U nder
S atan's
Y oke

The dictionary defines busy as: "Crowded with activity, cluttered with minute detail to the point of distracting attention from the focal point."
If we could shrink the earth's population to a village of precisely 100 people, with all the existing human ratios remaining the same, it would look something like the following:

There would be:

57 Asians
21 Europeans
14 from the Western Hemisphere, both north and south
8 Africans

52 would be female
48 would be male

70 would be non-white
30 would be white

70 would be non-Christian
30 would be Christian

89 would be heterosexual
11 would be homosexual

6 people would possess 59% of the entire world's wealth and all 6 would be from the United States.

80 would live in substandard housing
70 would be unable to read
50 would suffer from malnutrition
1 would be near death;
1 would be near birth
1 (yes, only 1) would have a college education
1 would own a computer

When one considers our world from such a compressed perspective, the need for acceptance, understanding and education becomes glaringly apparent.

Don't Lie.

Scott looked at the face of a girl whom he had been with for a long time. She was his childhood friend. She was lying on the hospital bed, unconcious. As Scott looked at her, love and sadness can be seen in his eyes. Worried that something bad might happen to her. "tina, please wake up." the words that he kept repeating in his mind, over and over again.

"Hey cheer up now. What's the matter?" A young boy wearing a blue baseball cap told his friend, looking at her, who was crying. "I'm fine." A little girl gave the same boy a fake smile. "Ahh, something's wrong, I knew it. Tina tell me." He insisted. But the little girl just gave him a smile, "nothing."

A girl waited under a waiting shed, it was raining too hard. Everything was dark. "Tina!" The girl heard her name. Left, right, it was her friend, Scott. The boy hurried to see her, he ran to the waiting shed quickly, with his uniform, dripping wet. But as soon as he got there, acted as if she didn't even hear his voice, nor knew him for who he was. "We need to talk..." He said trying to catch some air. "I thought I told you to leave me alone!" The girl shouted as she turned her back at him. "Tina, I can't do that!" Scott answered. Tina started walking away, she had her clothes wet by the time she set her feet out of the waiting shed.

"Hey, listen ok. Look I know that I made the wrong choice about telling you that I...like you....but...please, cant we just...have what we had before? FRIENDSHIP!?" Scott continued. Yuki stopped walking, "Look!" she turned around and faced him, "All I ask is for you to leave me alone! I'm sick and tired of this game. It can't be. You can't like a girl like me." She yelled, tears came falling from her eyes. Scott made his way to his friend and threw his arms around her, "I like you!...Why can't we be together?" He was crying.

"LET GO!" Tina pushed him, and Scott felt pain on his right cheek, she slapped him. "Can't you understand me? I don't like the way you treat me anymore, I'm not special. You just can't love me as someone else? I hate you!" Her voice was beginning to break up, she was crying real hard, but the rain could cover it. Tina turned her back at Scott and ran away.

Scott wanted to go after her but all he could do was watch her as she goes farther and farther. As Tina reached the sidewalk near her house, she felt pain on her left chest, her heart was aching. She couldn't breath. She placed her hand just at the place of her heart and tried to massage her chest, "It's ok. You can do it...just a few steps and...Ughr" She took a deep breath and started walking again, slowly, but her knees felt weak, she can't move anymore and that caused her to fall on the ground. Her sister got out the house eventually and helped her to stand up.

Scott took a deep breath and made his way to the wash room to wash the vase. There was silence. Even his loud breathing could be heard...As Scott went out the room, he went to the table near Tina's bed and took the boquet of roses.

"Scott," He heard a soft voice calling him. He turned to his right and found Tina, awake. "Scott, What are u doin here?." she said. Her voice was softer than before. Her friend smiled, "I...came here to...see you.." He replied. "Scott...I..." She felt so much pain on her chest again.

An angel

There was this little girl sitting by herself in the park. Everyone passed by her and never stopped to see why she looked so sad. Dressed in a worn pink dress, barefoot and dirty, the girl just sat and watched the people go by. She never tried to speak. She never said a word. Many people passed by her, but no one would stop.

The next day I decided to go back to the park in curiosity to see if the little girl would still be there. Yes, she was there, right in the very spot where she was yesterday, and still with the same sad look in her eyes. Today I was to make my own move and walk over to the little girl. For as we all know, a park full of strange people is not a place for young children to play alone. As I got closer I could see the back of the little girl's dress. It was grotesquely shaped. I figured that was the reason people just passed by and made no effort to speak to her.

Deformities are a low blow to our society and, heaven forbid if you make a step toward assisting someone who is different. As I got closer, the little girl lowered her eyes slightly to avoid my intent stare. As I approached her, I could see the shape of her back more clearly.

She was grotesquely shaped in a humped over form. I smiled to let her know it was OK; I was there to help, to talk. I sat down beside her and opened with a simple, "Hello"; The little girl acted shocked, and stammered a "hi"; after a long stare into my eyes. I smiled and she shyly smiled back. We talked until darkness fell and the park was completely empty. I asked the girl why she was so sad. The little girl looked at me with a sad face said, "Because, I'm different"; I immediately said, "That you are!"; and smiled. The little girl acted even sadder and said, "I know." "Little girl," I said, "you remind me of an angel, sweet and innocent."

She looked at me and smiled, then slowly she got to her feet and said, "Really?" "Yes, you're like a little Guardian Angel sent to watch over all people walking by." She nodded her head yes, and smiled.

With that she opened the back of her pink dress and allowed her wings to spread, then she said "I am. I'm your Guardian Angel," with a twinkle in her eye. I was speechless -- sure I was seeing things."

She said, "For once you thought of someone other than yourself. My job here is done;" I got to my feet and said, "Wait, why did no one stop to help an angel?"
She looked at me, smiled, and said, "You are the only one that could see me," and then she was gone.

And with that, my life was changed dramatically.

The coffee

He met her on a party, she was so outstanding, many guys chasing after her,while he was so normal, nobody paid attention to him. At the end of the party, he invited her to have coffee with him, she was surprised, but due to politeness, she promised. They sat in a nice coffee shop, he was too nervous to say anything, she felt uncomfortable, she thought, please, let me back home. Suddenly he asked the waiter: would you please give me some salt? I'd like to put it in my coffee.

Everybody stared at him, so strange! His face turned red, but, still, he put the salt in his coffee and drank it. She asked him curiously: why you have this hobby? He replied: when I was a little boy, I was living near the sea, I like playing in the sea, I could felt the taste of the sea, salty and bite, just like the taste of the salty coffee. Now every time I have the salty coffee, I will think of my childhood, think of my hometown, I miss my hometown so much, I miss my parents who still living there. Saying that, tears filled his eyes. She was deeply touched. That's his true feeling, from the bottom of his heart.

"A man who can tell out his homesick, he must be a man loves home, cares about home, has responsibility of home," she thought. Then she also started to talk, talked about her faraway hometown, her childhood, her family. That was a really nice talk, also a beautiful beginning of their story. They continue to date. She found actually he was a man who meets all her demands: he was God fearing ,tolerant, kind hearted, warm, careful...he was such a good guy but she almost missed him! Thanks to his salty coffee!

Then the story was just like every beautiful love story: the princess married to the prince, then they were living the happy life...And, every time she made coffee for him, she put some salt in the coffee, as she knew that's the way he liked.

After 40 years, he passed away, left her a letter which said: "My dearest, please forgive me, forgive my whole life lie. This was the only lie I said to you, the salty coffee. Remember the first time we dated? I was so nervous at that time, actually I wanted some sugar, but I said salt. It's hard for me to change so I just go ahead. I never thought that could be the start of our communication! I tried to tell you the truth many times in my life, but I was too afraid to do that, as I have promised not to lie to you for anything..Now I'm dying, I am afraid of nothing so I tell you the truth: I don't like the salty coffee, what a strange bad taste..but I have the salty coffee for my whole life since I knew you, I never feel sorry for anything I do for you. Having you with me is my biggest happiness for my whole life.

If I can live for the second time, I still want to know you and have you as my whole life wife, even though I have to drink the salty coffee again."

Her tears made the letter totally wet. Someday, someone asked her: What's the taste of salty coffee?

It's sweet. She replied.

Father's Day Special

A Father's Hands

Her  Dad, some ninety plus years now, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. She sat down beside him. He didn't acknowledge her presence and the longer He sat she wondered if he was okay.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, she asked him if he was okay. He raised his head and looked at her and smiled.
Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, he said in a clear strong voice. I didn't mean to disturb you, Dad, but you were just sitting there staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were alright.""Have you ever looked at your hands?" he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?

 She slowly opened her hands and stared down at them. She turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as she tried to figure out the point he was making. Dad smiled and related this story: "Stop and think for a moment about the hands I have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all his life to reach out and grab and embrace life."


"They braced and caught your fall when as a toddler you crashed upon the floor. They put food in your mouth and clothes on your back. As a child your mother taught you to fold them in prayer. They tied your shoes and pulled on your boots. They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They wiped my tears when my son went off to war."

"They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold you as a newborn daughter. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that you were married and loved ,someone special."

"They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, washed and cleansed the rest of my body."

They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else on me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life."



"But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when He leads me home. And with this hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ." ----

After that day, she never looked at her hands the same again.
But she remembers God reached out and took her Dad's hands and led her home. When her hands are hurt of sore or when she stroke the face of her children and husband ,she thinks of Dad. She knows she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God

A.L.I.CE AI Chatbot

 A.L.I.C.E -Artificial Intelligence Chatbot

A.L.I.C.E or Artificial Linguistic Internet Computer Entity is an award-winning artificial intelligence (A.I.) natural language processing chatter bot. It is a bot program that engages in a conversation with a human being by applying some heuristical pattern matching rules to the human's input, and in its online form it also relies on a hidden third person.

A.L.I.C.E is also one of the strongest programs and 'most human' of AI chat robot or chatbot, and has won the Loebner Prize three times (in 2000, 2001 and 2004) in AI competition. However the program is unable to pass the Turing Test or Imitation Game.

Richard Wallace started the development of A.L.I.C.E in 1995. In 1998, it was rewritten in Java. The program uses an XML Schema called AIML (Artificial Intelligence Markup Language) for specifying the heuristic conversation rules, which was published in 2001, and led more developers to contribute to the project. Alicebot, which is an engine or software agent of A.L.I.C.E, utilizes AIML.

ELIZA

 

Artificial Intelligence Simulation

Artificial Intelligence Simulation

Eliza will be glad to be your virtual friend. Eliza can help you with almost everything. It poses the questions of life, the universe, and everything. Don't be afraid to ask for help!
Perhaps Eliza can help you too...

Eliza, Artificial Intelligence Simulation

During the 1960s Joseph Weizenbaum created ELIZA. Eliza simulating a Rogerian therapist.
She passed a restricted Turing test for machine intelligence. Eliza was one of the first AI (Artificial Intelligence) programs and impressed many people who talked to her. 

 

ELIZA created a storm of public interest in AI (Artificial Intelligence) as it helped thousands overcome their personal problems.

Artificial Intelligence is the intelligence of machines and the branch of computer science which aims to create it. It is a technology that enables machines to converse with humans in natural language.

Very soon, Artificial Intelligence (AI) will create a new form of life.

 

The simulation of ELIZA is a complete implementation of the program described by Weizenbaum.

 

My name is ELIZA: Perhaps I can help you...?