What does Geronimo shout when he jumps off something ?

 There have been 8 kings of England called Henry 

but can you name them all ?

 Research suggests that we start to recognize our mother's voice from the womb around 31 weeks.

 As soon as we're born, our language skills begin to develop. From birth to six months, we mostly coo, cry, and murmur as the vocal cords mature. Then we advance to babbling, until words start around 18 months.

Eventually, words lead to sentences and soon, we forget the time when we couldn't speak at all. 

Children are less afraid to say what they're feeling than adults. It's only as we get older that we learn to censor ourselves.

 Maybe we do it because we're simply afraid to rock the boat. Or maybe we're terrified that by saying what we feel, or asking for what we need, we will cause more trouble than there is to begin with.

 So we choose over and over again to tamp down our voices, to stuff it so far down it can make us sick, until we can't anymore and we have to let it out. 

Even if it's the hardest thing in the world.

 Genetics, diet, exercise. 

All of these factors have shown to be the key determinants of longevity. 

But researchers discovered another way to predict our life spans: our zip codes.

 In some cities, a few blocks could increase the likelihood of dying 30 years earlier. Where we live determines how we live. And how we live matters more than you might imagine.

 No matter where we live, we all wish for long, healthy lives for our family, for our loved ones, for our children. But even if the odds are in your favor, predictions are only part of the picture. 

We live in a world where everything can change in the blink of an eye. You could be on top of the world one minute but you never know when the rug might be pulled out from under you.

 When that happens, which it inevitably will, all you can do is hold on. 

And hope it won't end you.

 The word "Bible" does not appear in The Bible 

T-Pau

 

Songs written by 

Carole Ann Decker 

Ronald Phillip Rogers 

Just when you thought he couldn't get any more of a cunt 

His middle name is Phillip 

China in Your Hand - full version

It was a theme she had
On a scheme he had
told in a foreign land
To take life on earth
To the second birth
and the man was in
command
It was a flight on the wings
Of a young girls dreams
That flew too far away

And we could make the monster live again
Oh hands move and heart beat on
Now life will return in this electric storm

A prophecy for a fantasy
The curse of a vivid mind

Don't push too far
Your Dreams are china in your hand
Don't wish too hard
Because they may come true
And you can't help them
You don't know what you might
Have set upon yourself
China in your hand

Come from greed
Never born of the seed
Took life from a barren hand
On eyes wide
Like a child in the form of a man

A story told
A mind of his own
An omen for our time
We take a flight on the wings of fantasy
Then you push too far
And make your dreams reality

Yeah! china in your hand

But they're only dreams
And you shouldn't push too far

Man is timid and apologetic;

he is no longer upright; 

he dares not say "I think," "I am," 

but quotes some saint or sage.

 He is ashamed before the blade of grass or the blowing rose. 

These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God to-day. 

There is no time to them. 

There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. 

Before a leaf-bud has burst, its whole life acts; in the full-blown flower there is no more; in the leafless root there is no less.

 Its nature is satisfied, and it satisfies nature, in all moments alike. 

But man postpones or remembers; 

he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past

or, heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to foresee the future. 

He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time

 How dare men call God infinite, and yet try to compress Him within the covers of a little book

 Power attracts pathological personalities. 

It is not that power corrupts but that it is magnetic to the corruptible

  If The Atheist Truly Did Not Believe, He Would Not Bother To Deny

“But for me the sweetest contact with God has no form. 

I close my eyes, look within, and enter a deep soft silence. 

The infinity of God's creation embraces me.”

― Michael Jackson

 Nobody has ever been in an empty room 

 

The first teacher never went to school 

Words that do not appear in the Bible

 Trinity

Rapture

Second Coming

Original Sin

Omniscience, 

Omnipresence, 

Supernatural,

Transcendence, 

Afterlife, 

Deity, 

Divinity, 

Theology, 

Monotheism, 

Missionary, 

Immaculate Conception, 

Christmas, 

Christianity, 

Evangelical, 

Fundamentalist, 

Methodist, 

Catholic, 

Pope, 

Cardinal, 

Catechism, 

Purgatory, 

Penance, 

Transubstantiation, 

Excommunication, 

Dogma, 

Chastity, 

Unpardonable Sin, 

Infallibility, 

Inerrancy, 

Incarnation, 

Epiphany, 

Sermon, 

Eucharist, 

the Lord's Prayer,

 Good Friday, 

Doubting Thomas, 

Advent, 

Sunday School, 

Dead Sea, 

Golden Rule, 

Moral, 

Morality, 

Ethics, 

Patriotism, 

Education, 

Atheism, 

Apostasy, 

Conservative (Liberal is in), 

Capital Punishment, 

Monogamy, 

Abortion, 

Pornography, 

Homosexual, 

Lesbian, 

Fairness, 

Logic, 

Republic, 

Democracy, 

Capitalism, 

Funeral, 

Decalogue, 

or Bible

 When an infection destroys a cell, the surrounding cells signal each other to wall it off. 

They isolate the infected cell to prevent it from spreading and harming other parts of your body. The isolation is temporary but important. It gives your body time to trigger your immune system and stop the infection from spreading. Until isolation is no longer needed. 

Much like the cells in our body, humans often isolate to avoid harm.

The truth is, no single part of the body can thrive on its own. Your organs work together as a system. They'll compensate for each other when one gets weak. 

People can do the same for each other, stepping up when someone else is down. 

Isolating ourselves often makes us feel more alone. 

We're usually better together,

 even when we're struggling.

Years ago, a New York physician discovered a gene mutation that causes congenital insensitivity to pain, or CIP. It's an extremely rare condition that blocks people from feeling pain. 

Sounds good in theory, but pain is important. It tells the body when it's in danger and helps keep it alive. 

Put your hand in fire, get burned and you learn not to do it again. 

Or, put another way, living hurts. 

As long as you're hurting, you're living. We know this. 

Pain is an excellent teacher. 

And life is full of sayings that remind us of its upsides:

 "Growing pains. Labor pains. Happy tears. So good it hurts." 

Pain warns us. It protects us. 

And most of all, pain makes us appreciate life's pleasures. 

Cherish good company, good health, savor the moments after the hurting, when you're all better, pain free. 

At least for a while.

 

In 1963, Dr. Thomas Starzl performed the first five liver transplants. 

One patient bled to death on the operating table. The other four died within days. As a result, the operation was considered too dangerous to be performed on humans and liver transplantation was suspended worldwide for the next four years. 

It wasn't exactly an auspicious start for a surgery that has saved countless lives. 

Progress doesn't happen overnight and setbacks are all but inevitable. Sometimes, it can make you feel like Sisiphus, endlessly pushing the same boulder on the same hill. 

But where we would be if doctor Starzl hadn't persevered to perfect the liver transplant, if he had let the setbacks win? 

As tempting as it can be to throw in the towel, sometimes you have to take the obstacles as they come and find a new path forward.

 

At the height of the Great Depression, Harvard scientists started tracking students in hopes of discovering the key to a long and happy life. They looked at participants' mental and physical health over 75 years. It is the longest study of happiness to date. 75 years and all they did was confirm what we've known since the beginning of time. The most powerful predictor of health and happiness is the quality if our relationships. Strong relationships protect us. Loneliness, on the other hand, can be deadly. Over the course of our lives, our relationships ebb and flow. We get together, break up, move away, or fall out of touch. It's prolonged periods of loneliness and toxicity that wreak havoc on our health, our brain function, and our longevity. Sometimes, being alone can be so terrifying that we trap ourselves in harmful relationships. But in order to really thrive, you've got to be ready to cut and run. Your life just might depend on it.

 

So don't knock the guys on death row

Maybe they know something you don't

 

There was only one guy in the whole Bible Jesus ever personally promised a place with him in Paradise.

 Not Peter,

 not Paul, 

not any of those guys.

 He was a convicted thief, being executed. 

 

In religion people’s beliefs and convictions are  gotten at second-hand,

and without examination, 

from authorities who have not themselves examined the questions at issue 

but have taken them at second-hand from other non-examiners, 

whose opinions about them were not worth a thing 

 

Every faith in the world is based on fabrication. 

That is the definition of faith―

acceptance of that which we imagine to be true, that which we cannot prove. 

Every religion describes God through metaphor, allegory, and exaggeration, from the early Egyptians through modern Sunday school.

 Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessible. 

The problems arise when we begin to believe literally in our own metaphors.

 

Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities

 

The merest accident of microgeography had meant that the first man to hear the voice of Om, and who gave Om his view of humans, was a shepherd and not a goatherd. 

They have quite different ways of looking at the world, and the whole of history might have been different.

 For sheep are stupid, and have to be driven.

 But goats are intelligent, and need to be led.

 

Take the Kama Sutra. 

How many people died from the Kama Sutra as opposed to the Bible?

 Who wins?

Every day people are straying away from the church and going back to God

 

sing Hey diddle diddle 

The cat and the fiddle 

the pigs in the middle

are what a fine riddle

and haven't you heard 

That the cockatoo bird 

Would repeat a rude word 

Til the panther demurred 

and threatened to plaster 

it's peco disaster

come let us sing faster and faster and faster

Then Jack and Jill stumbled 

And down the hill tumbled 

my Cookie quite crumbled 

the elephant  mumbled 

with weeping and wailing 

it jumped off the railing 

and found it was sailing 

along and a-paling 

then cried The Mad hatter 

pay heed to my chatter 

come take this white platter 

and fry it in batter

my song is all sung 

to untangle your tongue

take the refrain

and sing it again 

Hannibal Lector

 We first meet the Hopkins version of Dr Lector in Silence with Clarice

 This is of course the third film based on the first book, so is that version of Will going to see him in the cell 

At this point Lector has been locked in the dungeon cell, away from the world and the sun, tormented for several years - if someone was not insane before anyone would be after that

 This is the Hopkins version, what he calls a cross between a Tarantula and a Crocodile 

With Mads in Hannibal we see him while he was still in society - this version is the sophisticated respected Doctor going round society who fits in and can disguise who he is

 This version of Hannibal turns into the Hopkins version after many years in the cell 

The Cox version is interesting as this was at the time only the first book was out and this was the first time Lector had been portrayed - as in the book there is this main intro scene and then there are a couple of others, Lector does not get much book or screen time 

The Cox Lector appears normal, which is what people note a psychopath is like in real life, which is why you can't tell them apart from a normal person

 

Fear prophets, 

and those prepared to die for the truth, 

for as a rule they make many others die with them,

 often before them,

 at times instead of them.

 

An atheist believes that a hospital should be built instead of a church.

An atheist believes that deed must be done instead of prayer said.

An atheist strives for involvement in life and not escape into death.

 
He wants disease conquered, poverty vanished, war eliminated 

 

Religion is for people who're afraid of going to hell. 

Spirituality is for those who've already been there

Casey at the Bat

 

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day:
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to the hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We'd put up even money now, with Casey at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despisèd, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey's bearing and a smile lit Casey's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt;
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Casey's eye, a sneer curled Casey's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
"That ain't my style," said Casey. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted someone on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Casey still ignored it and the umpire said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey's lip, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate;
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey's blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favoured land the sun is shining bright,
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light;
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout,
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep

 

 

The poem itself acts as an extended metaphor for the conflict between desire and obligation.

 

The speaker stopped by the woods to observe the natural beauty and snowfall in the woods. He wanted to enjoy the calmness of the dark, deep, lovely woods.

 

The poem is often interpreted as conveying an attraction toward death, indicated in the final lines: 'The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep. ' Here, the woods and the 'sleep' to which the speaker refers represent death.

 

' taps on several themes such as life, death, commitment, pessimism vs optimism, and darkness. The main theme of this piece is the journey of life. It is present throughout the poem and highlighted in the last few lines.

 

The text of the poem reflects the thoughts of a lone wagon driver (the narrator), pausing at dusk in his travel to watch snow falling in the woods. It ends with him reminding himself that, despite the loveliness of the view, "I have promises to keep, / And miles to go before I sleep."

 

The speaker is stopping by some woods on a snowy evening. He or she takes in the lovely scene in near-silence, is tempted to stay longer, but acknowledges the pull of obligations and the considerable distance yet to be traveled before he or she can rest for the night.

 

The horse thinks it is "queer" or odd to stop in the middle of the woods because it seems his owner never does this. We know this because the speaker tells us that his "little" horse is used to stopping near farmhouses.

 

Hence, the phrase "miles to go before I sleep" means that the poet has a lot to achieve in life before death descends on him

 

Woods represent sensuous enjoyment (lovely), the darkness of ignorance (dark) as well as the dark inner self of man (deep). The last two lines mean that the poet Robert Frost has to fulfill his promises and has to travel a lot of distance before he can rest.

 

The speaker's thoughts and reflections on this "darkest evening" reflect his sense of isolation and contemplation in the midst of nature

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

 

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.