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| perspectives and intepretations :-) |
| 04.28.04 (7:39 am) [edit] |
A boy had reached four without giving up the habit of sucking his thumb, though his mother had tried everything from bribery to reasoning to painting it with lemon juice to discourage the habit.
Finally she tried threats, warning her son that, "If you don't stop sucking your thumb, your stomach is going to blow up like a balloon."
Later that day, walking in the park, mother and son saw a pregnant woman sitting on a bench. The 4-year-old considered her gravely for a minute, then spoke to her saying, "Uh-oh...I know what *you've* been doing."
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Have a blessed and hilarious day!
Unc Paul
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| when the IRS helps the church |
| 04.25.04 (5:23 pm) [edit] |
"Hello, is this Pastor Smith?"
"It is."
"This is the IRS. Can you help us?"
"I can."
"Do you know Sam Johnson?"
"I do."
"Is he a member of your congregation?"
"He is."
"Did he donate $10,000?"
"He will."
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Pity that from where I live, such donations are not tax deductible :-)
Have a blessed day
unc Paul
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| The 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter |
| 04.21.04 (5:26 am) [edit] |
From HeartTouchers
Bruce Cameron wrote this article in 1998 and it grew into a book and then a hit TV show by the same name which airs on ABC...
_________________________ ________________
The 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Daughter
by W. Bruce Cameron, Copyright 1998 http://www.wbrucecameron.com
When I was in high school I used to be terrified of my girlfriend's father, who I believe suspected me of wanting to place my hands on his daughter. He would open the door and immediately affect a good-naturedly murderous expression, holding out a handshake that, when gripped, felt like it could squeeze carbon into diamonds.
Now, years later, it is my turn to be the dad. Remembering how unfairly persecuted I felt when I would pick up my dates, I do my best to make my daughter's suitors feel even worse. My motto: wilt them in the living room and they'll stay wilted all night.
"So," I'll call out jovially. "I see you have your nose pierced. Is that because you're stupid, or did you merely want to APPEAR stupid?"
As a dad, I have some basic rules, which I have carved into two stone tablets that I have on display in my living room.
Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure as heck not picking anything up.
Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.
Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, In order to assure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric staple gun and fasten your trousers securely in place around your waist.
Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate: when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I WILL kill you.
Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is "early."
Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make YOU cry.
Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process which can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?
Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places lacking parents, policemen, or nuns. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her chin. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies which feature chainsaws are okay. Hockey games are okay.
My daughter claims it embarrasses her to come downstairs and find me attempting to get her date to recite these eight simple rules from memory. I'd be embarrassed too--there are only eight of them, for crying out loud! And, for the record, I did NOT suggest to one of these cretins that I'd have these rules tattooed on his arm if he couldn't remember them. (I checked into it and the cost is prohibitive.) I merely told him that I thought writing the rules on his arm with a ball point might be inadequate--ink washes off--and that my wood burning set was probably a better alternative.
One time, when my wife caught me having one of my daughter's would-be suitors practice pulling into the driveway, get out of the car, and go up to knock on the front door (he had violated rule number one, so I figured he needed to run through the drill a few dozen times) she asked me why I was being so hard on the boy. "Don't you remember being that age?" she challenged.
Of course I remember. Why do you think I came up with the eight simple rules?
Bruce Cameron
bruce@wbrucecameron.com
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I have 2 sons and no daughters, let them deal with other fathers .... :-)
Have a blessed day!
Unc Paul
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| structured or unbridled freedom |
| 04.20.04 (4:32 pm) [edit] |
in a conversation yesterday with my mother (their grandmother), my eldest son (11) decided that he would rather live in a structured disciplined environment (with rules and duties ... and parents reminding him to focus, do his duties, work hard etc) - rather than a free, do as you please lifestyle (which his best friend has). His best friend doesn't have to come home from school till he wants to - plays the whole day, doesn't do his homework properly etc.
I must say I am pretty pleased aboiut the way he is thinking as he can see that unbridled freedom given to his friend has resulted in a his friend slacking in his studies and losing control over his life. He is beginning to see that he needs to think long term and that while he should be having fun - too much fun is unbalanced and that at this age, he needs help.
My youngest son (9) can't decide :-)
I am so pleased as this is my understanding that while I want to live life by grace and freedom, I cannot fully appreciate and live life to the full without good "rules and laws".
Have a blessed day
Unc Paul
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| the church gosip |
| 04.19.04 (12:54 am) [edit] |
Another fun one from Mike's Funnies ...
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The church gossip, and self-appointed arbiter of the church's morals, kept sticking her nose into other people's business. Several church members were unappreciative of her activities, but feared her enough to maintain their silence.
She made a mistake, however, when she accused George, a new member, of being drunk after she saw his pickup truck parked in front of the town's only bar one afternoon.
She commented to George on a Sunday morning, in the company of many, that everyone seeing it there would know what he was doing.
George, a man of few words, stared at her for a moment and just walked away. He didn't explain, defend, or deny; he said nothing.
Later that evening, George quietly parked his pickup in front of her house and left it there all night.
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Have ablessed day and watch the gossip! :-)
Unc Paul
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| ego |
| 04.17.04 (4:08 am) [edit] |
The only thing that can keep on growing without nourishment is an ego.
- Unknown
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| Hope through nouns and verbs |
| 04.14.04 (5:40 pm) [edit] |
Came across this story a second time ... a sign to pass it on?! :-)
I find this another great one that has a nice inspiring twist. I find it fascinating that hope can be fiund int he strangest things. [b]It really does DEPEND on one's perspectives[/b]
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[u]Burned Out Hope [/u]
The school system in a large city had a program to help children keep up with their school work during stays in the city's hospitals. One day a teacher who was assigned to the program received a routine call asking her to visit a particular child. She took the child's name and room number and talked briefly with the child's regular class teacher. "We're studying nouns and adverbs in his class now," the regular teacher said, "and I'd be grateful if you could help him understand them so he doesn't fall too far behind."
The hospital program teacher went to see the boy that afternoon. No one had mentioned to her that the boy had been badly burned and was in great pain. Upset at the sight of the boy, she stammered as she told him, "I've been sent by your school to help you with nouns and adverbs." When she left she felt she hadn't accomplished much.
But the next day, a nurse asked her, "What did you do to that boy?" The teacher felt she must have done something wrong and began to apologize. "No, no," said the nurse. "You don't know what I mean. We've been worried about that little boy, but ever since yesterday, his whole attitude has changed. He's fighting back, responding to treatment. It's as though he's decided to live."
Two weeks later the boy explained that he had completely given up hope until the teacher arrived. Everything changed when he came to a simple realization. He expressed it this way: "They wouldn't send a teacher to work on nouns and adverbs with a dying boy, would they?"
Hope looks for the good in people, instead of harping on the worst.
Hope opens the doors where despair closes them.
Hope discovers what can be done instead of grumbling about what cannot.
Hope "lights a candle" instead of "cursing the darkness."
Hope regards problems, small or large, as opportunities.
Hope cherishes no illusions, nor does it yield to cynicism.
Hope sets big goals and is not frustrated by repeated difficulties or setbacks.
Hope pushes ahead when it would be easy to quit.
Hope puts up with modest gains, realizing that "the longest journey starts with one step."
Hope accepts misunderstanding as the price for serving the greater good of others.
Hope is a good loser because it has the divine assurance of final victory.
_________________________ ________________
Have a blessed and hopeful day
Unc Paul
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| wise man and the dustbin |
| 04.13.04 (4:54 am) [edit] |
Got this in the mail. Nice :-)
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A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home in the summer near a junior high school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment.
Then a new school year began. The very next afternoon three young boys full of youthful afterschool enthusiasm came down his street beating merrily on every trash can they encountered. The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favor? I'll give you each a dollar if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."
The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the trash cans. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street. "Look" he said, "I haven't received my Social Security (pension) check yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than 25 cents. Will that be okay?"
"A lousy quarter?!" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time beating these cans around for a quarter, you're nuts! No way, mister. We quit!"
And the old man enjoyed peace and serenity for the rest of his days.
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I wish to be as wise as that masn ... now!
Have a blessed day
Unc Paul
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| Why does Easter's date wander? |
| 04.10.04 (4:34 pm) [edit] |
be warned! technical stuff but it is Easter morning where I am and this might be of interest to some ...
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The following article is located at:
http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/newsletter/20 04/apr9a.html" title="http://www.christianitytoday.com/history/newsletter/20 04/apr9a.html" target="_blank"http://www.christianitytoday....
Why does Easter's date wander?
by Farrell Brown, introduced by Chris Armstrong.
This week, as they so often do, my Sunday School class of bright 12- and 13-year-olds posed a tough question: why did Easter fall on Evan's birthday last year, but it's falling on Abby's birthday this year? Though I couldn't answer on the spot, I knew I had a secret weapon back at the office—saved for just such an occasion: a short article by Farrell Brown, a retired chemistry professor with an interest in the historical interactions between science and religion. Here, as a public service for those still scratching their heads over the calendrical wandering of Easter, is Dr. Brown's answer to my Sunday School kids' question—and thrown in for free, the story of why Easter dates still differ in different parts of the world:
The date of Easter Sunday, a so-called movable feast day in the Christian Church year, may seem mysterious to many who celebrate it. There are 35 possible dates in the spring season (northern hemisphere) for celebrating a one-time event. Why this wandering? The answer comes from decisions made several centuries after Christianity's inception.
And why do most Eastern Orthodox Christian Churches observe Easter 13 days after the rest of Christendom? This answer lies in how different people reacted to a centuries-old papal decree.
Our first stop on this tour of the wandering Easter is a quick study of how calendars were used in the Biblical lands around 30 A.D. Although the Julian or solar-based calendar of the Roman Empire had been in place since 45 B.C., it did not supplant the lunar calendar that was the chart and compass of 2,000 years of Jewish history. (A lunar year is 12 lunar cycles of 29.53 days each or 354.36 days while a Julian year is 365.25 days with a leap day every four years.) The Julian calendar functions by having three years of 365 days and one year of 366 days every four years.
The incongruence of the two calendars had marred historical recordings in the Eastern Mediterranean and environs since the dual systems began. And to add to the confusion, Jesus' followers had failed to record the exact date of their Lord's resurrection. Many of those first believers expected Jesus to return soon, a hope that (some scholars believe) rendered such anniversaries unimportant for them. For these reasons, a single, universally accepted date for the event's celebration had little to no chance.
The Nicean accord
Three hundred years later in the reign of the Roman Emperor Constantine, Christianity was beginning to spread though out the Empire. Since any self-respecting religion was expected to have its religious festivals and days of observance, a date for celebrating Easter now became a priority. In fact, this was one of eight major topics considered by priests and bishops at the church's first Ecumenical Council in 325, in Nicea (present-day Turkey). One unanimously accepted canon guaranteed that Easter would never fall on the beginning the Jewish Passover, perhaps reflecting Christian animosity towards Jews for their perceived role in Jesus' death.
However, each church group present at Nicea seemed to have a different opinion on the matter of Easter's date. The biggest division was that between the Eastern churches of Antioch and Syria, which still relied on the Jewish or lunar calendar for determining the date of Easter, and the Western churches of Alexandria and Rome, which employed the efficient solar calendar. The resulting accord, as commonly stated, was that Easter shall fall on the first Sunday following the first full moon following the spring equinox. (The spring equinox is one of the two times in the year when the sun crosses the celestial equator and the length of day and night are approximately equal.)
This explains the 35-day span where Easter can occur (March 22 - April 25, inclusive): the first Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox may occur as little as two or as many as 37 days from the equinox.
We owe this complicated formula, with its attention to both the sun (the equinox) and the moon (full phase), to a political compromise among Nicea's gathered factions. The Eastern Christians injected the irregular phases of the moon into the calculations—thus causing the "wandering" effect—because they wanted their lunar calendar to keep its historical (though problematic) role in determining important dates.
A portentous shift
Cumbersome though it was, the Nicean accord ruled the church's commemoration of Jesus' resurrection for next 900 to1000 years. But this was not the end of the story. Unfortunately, the Julian solar calendar contained a non-trivial flaw that reared its head as the centuries crept along. This flaw affected the celebration of Easter, and its correction wrought great strife and consternation among Christians.
In the mid-1200's, an English Friar named Roger Bacon observed that the date of Easter, in addition to its prescribed wandering, was drifting farther and farther into the spring season. Astronomers now knew that the length of the solar year was closer to 365.242 days than to the 365.250 days assumed in the Julian calendar year. In 1,000 years, the Julian calendar counted 365,250 days, while in actuality, 365,242 solar days had elapsed. Bacon realized that each Julian year "overflowed" slightly into the next solar year, and that any given date was farther along in real time than the calendar would imply. The man-made calendar might say one thing, but nature's seasons were not fooled! Though the small mismatch caused a shift of only 11 minutes per year, this had accumulated—from Julius Ceasar's to Roger Bacon's day—into a troubling 9 days. Bacon's petitions to correct the drift went unheeded.
By the mid-1500s, Pope Gregory XIII recognized the consequences of the drift and entrusted a solution to a Jesuit mathematician and astronomer, Christopher Clavius. The enlightened Pope endorsed Clavius's findings in 1563 at the Council of Trent, and 19 years later, on October 4, 1582, Gregory signed a papal bull promulgating the new calendar that bears his name—the Gregorian calendar.
Gregory's calendar inserted a correction to the Julian calendar from that time forward. Ingeniously, it removed eight of the 250 leap days (February 29) occurring in each 1,000 years of the Julian calendar, thereby approximating more accurately the average number of days in a year—namely, 365.242. The exact rule is that at the century boundaries, a leap day shall be observed only when the century number is wholly divisible by 400. In other words, observance of a leap day in 2000 was a special event. It will not happen again at a century boundary until 2400.
More trouble for Easter
While the Gregorian calendar solved the problem for future years, there remained the critical matter of correcting the older calendar's "slippage." By 1582, the cumulative mismatch of the Julian calendar year against the solar year totaled 10 days. The papal bull addressed this problem in a practical but provocative way: it advanced the Julian calendar by 10 days. The calendar days October 5 - 14, 1582 simply vanished!
This part of Gregory's decree sealed confusion and conflict across Christendom. Not only would Easter continue its wandering, but it would wander differently in different regions. Germany, with its mixture of Catholic and Protestant enclaves, was particularly hard hit. For 193 years, Easter was celebrated variously at different times by different Germanic states. The Anglican Church joined the fray, resisting the change for nearly 170 years. And to this day, Christians in the Eastern Orthodox Church, except for the Finnish, retain the Julian calendar that is now 13 days behind the Gregorian calendar. In the year 2,100, the lag will equal 14 days.
For more on Easter and the calendars, see the following sources:
Duncan, David Ewing. "Calendar", NY. Avon Books, Inc. 1998
Gould, Stephen Jay. "Questioning the Millennium", NY. Harmony Books, 1996
Thurston, Hebert. "Catholic Encyclopedia: Easter Controversy". Retrieved from http://www.newadvent.org/cath... .
Farrell Brown is Professor Emeritus at Clemson University and resides in the Clemson area. He may be contacted at farrelb46@bellsouth.net .
Copyright © 2004 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.
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Have a great Easter and may you find God's prsence real!
Unc Paul
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| Reflections: Jesus' Cross |
| 04.08.04 (5:41 pm) [edit] |
It's Easter soon, so time for something more serious ...
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The following article is located at:
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/003/23.68.html" title="http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/003/23.68.html" target="_blank"http://www.christianitytoday....
Reflections: Jesus' Cross
Quotations to stir heart and mind.
Compiled by Richard A. Kauffman | posted 03/15/2004
THE CHRISTIAN teaching about who crucified Christ is not that the Romans or the Jews or whatever people happened to be there did, but that you and I did, and that all human societies without exception are involved in the crucifixion of Christ.
Northrop Frye's Notebooks and Lectures on the Bible and Other Religious Texts
THEY CRUCIFIED HIM with the criminals. Which is more amazing, to find Jesus in such bad company, or to find the criminals in such good company? ... Jesus died precisely for these two criminals who were crucified on his right and left and went to their death with him. He did not die for the sake of a good world, he died for the sake of an evil world.
Karl Barth, Deliverance to the Captives
GETHSEMANE invites us to consider … what it meant for Jesus to be, in a unique sense, God's Son. The very moment of greatest intimacy—the desperate prayer to "Abba, Father"—is also the moment where ... he is set on the course for the moment of God-forsakenness on the cross.
Tom Wright, Mark for Everyone
SINCE JESUS had no sin either in his nature or in his conduct, he need never have died either physically or spiritually. ... Then why did he do it? What was the rationale of his death? There is only one possible, logical, biblical answer. It is that he died for our sins, not his own. The death he died was our death, the penalty which our sins had richly deserved.
John Stott, Our Guilty Silence
REGARDLESS of all the gold or silver with which it is covered, the Cross remains what the apostle Paul said … "a scandal for the Jews, and folly for the Gentiles" (1 Cor. 1:23). In our given situation the "Jews" represent those who seek only help from religion, while the "Gentiles" are those who seek clever and easy explanations. And in this case the Cross is truly a scandal and folly.
Alexander Schmemann, O Death, Where Is Thy Sting?
MY LORD, my Love, is crucified:
Is crucified for me and you.
To bring us rebels near o God;
Believe, believe the record true,
Ye all are bought with Jesus' blood;
Pardon for all flows from his side:
My Lord, my Love, is crucified.
Charles Wesley, from O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done
THE TRAGEDY of the second millennium was that the Cross, starting with the Crusades, became an emblem of the sword… . The challenge of this third millennium is to let it be what it was and what it still is in its origin—an emblem of unconditional love.
Ray Simpson, A Holy Island Prayer Book
HIGH AND LIFTED UP, I see Him
on the eternal Calvary,
And two pierced hands are stretch-
ing east and west o'er land and sea.
On my knees I fall and worship that
great Cross that shines above,
For the very God of Heaven is not
Power, but Power of love.
G. A. Studdert Kennedy, from High and Lifted Up
Copyright © 2004 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.
March 2004, Vol. 48, No. 3, Page 68
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Especially to the Christians, may you have a blessed Easter.
Unc Paul
www.ChristianityToday.com
AOL Keyword and CompuServe GO: ChristianityToday.com
Copyright © 1994–2002 Christianity Today International
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| ENGLISH IS A CRAZY LANGUAGE |
| 04.05.04 (7:11 pm) [edit] |
ENGLISH IS A CRAZY LANGUAGE
Part 1
By Richard Lederer
From "Crazy English: the Ultimate Joy Ride Through Our Language" (Pocket Books, 1989):
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0671 023233/youthspecialt-20/" title="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0671 023233/youthspecialt-20/" target="_blank"http://www.amazon.com/exec/ob...
English is the most widely spoken language in the history of our planet, used in some way by at least one out of every seven human beings around the globe. Half of the world's books are written in English, and the majority of international telephone calls are made in English. English is the language of over sixty percent of the world's radio programs. More than seventy percent of international mail is written and addressed in English, and eighty percent of all computer text is stored in English. English has acquired the largest vocabulary of all the world's languages, perhaps as many as two million words, and has generated one of the noblest bodies of literature in the annals of the human race.
Nonetheless, it is now time to face the fact that English is a crazy language -- the most lunatic and loopy and wifty and wiggy of all languages. In the crazy English language, the blackbird hen is brown, blackboards can be green or blue, and blackberries are green and then red before they are ripe. Even if blackberries were really black and blueberries really blue, what are strawberries, cranberries, elderberries, huckleberries, raspberries, and gooseberries supposed to look like?
To add to this insanity there is no butter in buttermilk, no egg in eggplant, no grape in grapefruit, no bread in shortbread, neither worms nor wood in wormwood, neither mush nor room in mushroom, neither pine nor apple in pineapple, neither peas nor nuts in peanuts, and no ham in a hamburger. (In fact, if somebody invented a sandwich consisting of a ham patty in a bun, we would have a hard time finding a name for it.)
To make matters worse, English muffins weren't invented in England, french fries in France, or Danish pastries in Denmark. And we discover even more culinary madness in the relevations that sweetmeat is made from fruit, while sweetbread, which isn't sweet, is made from meat.
In this unreliable English tongue, greyhounds aren't always grey (or gray); panda bears and koala bears aren't bears (they're marsupials); a woodchuck is a groundhog, which is not a hog; a horned toad is a lizard; glowworms are fireflies, but fireflies are not flies (they're beetles); ladybugs and lightning bugs are also beetles (and to propogate, a significant proportion of ladybugs must be male); a guinea pig is neither a pig nor from Guinea (it's a South American rodent); and a titmouse is neither mammal nor mammaried.
Language is like the air we breathe. It's invisible, inescapable, indispensable, and we take it for granted. But, when we take the time to step back and listen to the sounds that escape from the holes in people's faces and to ex- plore the paradoxes and vagaries of English, we find that hot dogs can be cold, darkrooms can be lit, homework can be done in school, nightmares can take place in broad daylight while morning sickness and daydreaming can take place at night, tomboys are girls and midwives can be men, hours -- especially happy hours and rush hours -- often last longer than sixty minutes, quick- sand works very slowly, boxing rings are square, silverware and glasses can be made of plastic and tablecloths of paper, most telephones are dialed by being punched (or pushed?), and most bathrooms don't have any baths in them. In fact, a dog can go to the bathroom under a tree -- no bath, no room; it's still going to the bathroom. And doesn't it seem a little bizarre that we go to the bathroom in order to go to the bathroom?
Why is it that a woman can man a station but as man can't woman one, that a man can father a movement but a woman can't mother one, and that a king rules a kingdom but a queen doesn't rule a queendom? How did all those Renaissance men reproduce when there don't seem to have been any Renaissance women?
A writer is someone who writes, and a stinger is something that stings. But fingers don't fing, grocers don't groce, haberdashers don't haberdash, hammers don't ham, and humdingers don't humding.
If the plural of tooth is teeth , shouldn't the plural of booth be beeth ? One goose, two geese -- so one moose, two meese? One index, two indices -- one Kleenex, two Kleenices? If people ring a bell today and rang a bell yesterday, why don't we say that they flang a ball? If they wrote a letter, perhaps they also bote their tongue. If the teacher taught, why isn't it also true that the preacher praught? Why is it that the sun shone yesterday while I shined my shoes, that I treaded water and then trod on the beach, and that I flew out to see a World Series game in which my favorite player flied out?
If we conceive a conception and receive at a reception, why don't we grieve a greption and believe a beleption? If a horsehair mat is made from the hair of horses and a camel's hair brush from the hair of camels, from what is a mohair coat made? If adults commit adultery, do infants commit infantry? If olive oil is made from olives, what do they make baby oil from? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? (And I'm beginning to worry about those authoritarians.)
And if pro and con are opposites, is congress the opposite of progress?
Reprinted by permission.
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Mikey's Thot for the Day:
To make a long story short, don't tell it.
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PASS IT ON! Yeah, you can send this Funny to anybody you want. And, if you're REAL nice, you'll tell them you got it from
www.MikeysFunnies.com!
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And I thought learning Greek was difficutl
Have a blessed day
Unc Paul
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| HOW THE MEDIA WOULD COVER THE APOCALYPSE |
| 04.04.04 (4:03 am) [edit] |
Noty my original work but funny
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HOW THE MEDIA WOULD COVER THE APOCALYPSE
USA Today:
WE'RE DEAD
The Wall Street Journal:
DOW JONES PLUMMETS AS WORLD ENDS
Microsoft Systems Journal:
APPLE LOSES MARKET SHARE
Sports Illustrated:
GAME OVER
Wired:
THE LAST NEW THING
Rolling Stone:
THE GRATEFUL DEAD REUNION TOUR
Readers Digest:
'BYE
Discover Magazine:
HOW WILL THE EXTINCTION OF ALL LIFE AS WE KNOW IT AFFECT THE WAY WE VIEW THE COSMOS?
TV Guide:
DEATH AND DAMNATION: NIELSON RATINGS SOAR!
Lady's Home Journal:
LOSE 10 LBS BY JUDGMENT DAY WITH OUR NEW "ARMAGEDDON" DIET!
Inc. magazine:
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Have a blessed day
Unc Paul
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| You won't find God - He will find you |
| 04.02.04 (7:38 am) [edit] |
John Powell, A Professor at Loyola University in Chicago wrote the following about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy.
Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith.
That was the first day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange . . . very strange.
Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father-God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.
When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam he asked in a lightly cynical tone: "Do you think I'll ever find God?"
I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.
"Oh," he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."
I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out:
"Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find him, but I am absolutely certain that he will find you!"
He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line: "He will find you!" At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful.
Then a sad report, I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted, and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe.
"Tommy, I've thought about you so often. I hear you are sick!" I blurted out.
"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."
"Can you talk about it, Tom?"
"Sure, what would you like to know?"
"What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?"
"Well, it could be worse."
"Like what?"
"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real 'biggies' in life."
I began to look through my mental file cabinet under "S" where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification God sends back into my life to educate me.)
"But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!)
He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God, and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But he will find you.' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. (My "clever" line. He thought about that a lot!)
But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, then I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven.
But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success. You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit.
Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn't really care ... about God, about an afterlife, or anything. I'd like to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.'
"So I began with the hardest one: my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him." "Dad". . .
"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.
"Dad, I would like to talk with you."
"Well, talk."
"I mean ... It's really important."
The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?"
"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that."
Tom smiled at me and said with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him:
"The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me.
And we talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me.
"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years. I was only sorry about one thing: that I had waited so long. I was beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.
"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, 'C'mon, jump through.' 'C'mon, I'll give you three days ... three weeks.'
Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. "But the important thing is that He was there. He found me. You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for him."
"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that.
He said God is love, and anyone who loves is living with God and God is living in him.'
Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up o me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell them."
"Oooh . . . I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."
"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."
In a few days Tommy called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date.
However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined. Before he died, we talked one last time.
"I'm not going to make it to class," he said.
"I know, Tom."
"Will you tell them for me? Will you .. .tell the whole world for me?"
"I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best."
So, to all of you who have been kind enough to hear this simple statement about love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven: "I told them, Tommy . . . as best I could."
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I really like this story.
Have a blessed day!
Unc Paul
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| Beans ... |
| 04.01.04 (4:53 pm) [edit] |
This is a really funny one!! May offend some so beware.
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Once upon a time there lived a man who had a
maddening passion for baked beans. He loved them, but they always had a very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction on him. Then one day he met a beautiful girl and he fell madly in love with her. When it was apparent that they would marry he thought to himself, "She is such a sweet and lovely girl, she will never go for this carrying on." So he made the supreme sacrifice and gave up his beloved beans. They were married shortly thereafter.
Some months after his marriage, his car broke down on his way home from work. Since he and his wife lived in the country, he phoned her to say he wouldn't be home at his usual hour because he had to walk the rest of the way home.
On his way home he passed a small cafe and the odor of freshly baked beans was overwhelming. Since he still had several miles to walk, he figured he could walk off any ill effects before he got home, so he stopped at the cafe. Before leaving he ate three large helpings of baked beans. All the way home he putt-putted and after arriving home, felt he had putt-putted his last.
His wife was somewhat agitated and excited to see him and exclaimed delightedly, "Darling, I have the most wonderful surprise for dinner this evening." She then blindfolded him and led him to his seat at the head of the table. He sat down and just as she was about to remove the blindfold, the telephone rang. She made him promise not to touch the blindfold until she returned. She left him to answer the phone. Seizing the opportunity, he shifted his weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud but as ripe as rotten eggs. He took his napkin and vigorously fanned the air around him. He felt another urge coming on, shifted to the other leg, and let go again. This was a prize winner! While keeping one ear on the phone conversation, he kept on for another ten minutes. Upon hearing the phone hang up, he placed his napkin in his lap, folded his hands on top of it and smiled contentedly to himself, the very picture of innocence.
Apologizing for taking so long, she asked if he had peeked and he, of course, assured her that he hadn't. At this point she removed the blindfold and there was his surprise--twelve dinner guests seated around the table for a birthday party!
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So what's the point of this joke? I have no idea. Just needed a laugh!
Have a blessed day
Unc Paul
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