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There has been this - and it's reflected in the broadcasts - this moronic use of statistics. Which has suggested to everyone who is intelligent the use of statistics is moronic.

quote by Michael Lewis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Two In A One (Pablo & Gunslinger)

Chorus
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Jackpot is when you win plenty at money
Jail is a place I don't want to go
January the first month of the year
Jealose is when five women fancy
But John is the proper name fe a English man
Jockey is a profisnel horse rider
Me sah June is the sixth mounth of the year
Chorus
An jam is when you caint move in a party
Mi say England is a place that covered in snow
Man we drink the ribeana wi don't no like drink beer
But Jelly fish Jahman mi say them swim in a the sea
Unless you born an bread as a Jamaican
The pirate them a gather round the Jolly Roger
Wi wackad as single but wi deadly as a pair
Chorus
No fe treatment go a hospital
I man pay de rent every Tuesday I man
You a Student if you a go to college
Dat a nuff argoument mi say gunny an Pablo
Cause a two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
A say to move from the window
When you come a feh wi dance
But a Babylon pick mi up
And a think to myself
Cause I'm going to jail
Man is what a going to tell
me girl Jah know I man was
So I had to get reckless
Because a two in a one Jah
man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Two in a one Jah man a two in a one
Seh daddy Pablo a long with Gunslinger
Seh duw to the Circumstances pirate setah in the area
Listen to the style an when we throw down
Because a murder it name
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent

song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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We The Electronic

See us on the underground
Packed up in our sardine cans
Tailor made with suits and shades
Lipstick teeth and waxwork hands
Electronic, we're electronic
Jumping on conveyor belts
Escalators in our heads
Programmed for another day
Talking to a faceless friend
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Hear the ticking in our beds
Find the balance in our heads
Wishing we could make a change
See the morning coming in
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic
Electronic, so moronic
We're electronic, we the electronic
Electronic

song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Multi-emotionalized

I'm the one that's suppose to feel,
Everyone's pain.
Including my own.
But less magnified.
I am suppose to pledge my allegiance.
No matter if I am spit and spat upon...
At the expense of my self expression.
On streets where my ancestors more than paid,
For displays of these misgivings.

Misunderstandings...
That I'm expected to internalize,
And make them my own.
To dispense and share,
With those in joyous despair and disillusioned.

'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'

Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.

Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.
I'm only here for purposes,
To help you feel supreme!

'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'

I'm a mult-emotionalize thing you think you've made!
I'm multi-emotionalized with each emotion taught,
To be slick and smooth and as sharp as a razor blade.
Sharpened to display any emotion.
If asking for it!

'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'

And a swift change to those statistics come.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Reflected

Look upstanding with your head held high
You will be reflected
You looK outstanding with your eyes in disguise
Just beyond your glasses
Holy, how he would keep, it's devine
I'm surely glad, I'm surely over town
And even though I'm you will always here
Very rarely worry almost constantly
Could you be receptive
Our life's outstanding in a shower please
Wet my skins a plenty
Baby, what a day I love our town
I'm surely glad, I'm surely all around
And even since I knew it all so clear
You will be reflected
You will be reflected
You will be reflected
You will be reflected, reflected

song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wait, things are shaping up

I approached a sculptor the other day
For carving a statue of
Gautama Buddha
He asked me a number of questions
Some of them were far stretched
Though I answered all of them
I was thinking within that
All these details were unnecessary
He could read my mind and said
These details were needed to help me
Come out with what exactly you were looking for
He suggested my coming to him
Two weeks later
Why so long and he said
Wait things are shaping up

Two weeks later
I saw practically no progress
He showed me a granite block
Which he said he would carve
As Gautama Buddha
He suggested me to visit him
Two weeks later
“Do you not think we are delaying? ”
I asked and he said
Wait things are shaping up

I went to him as suggested
No change at all
The block was under water
And carving had not started
He said that this curing process
Would help him understand
The quality of the block
And he opined
That we were lucky in
Selecting the right granite
And he suggested my visiting him
A week later
“Yes, I know you are wondering
As to why it is taking so much time”
How he could say even without my telling that
He continued
Wait, things are shaping up

A week later
No great change
But the block got castled here and there
No where near my expectations
“Come after three days and see”

[...] Read more

poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Suggested

Today...
It is not appropriate to be honest.
Or imply it in retrospect.
We live in times
In which truth is deluded,
With a mixture of suggestions...
Followed by denials confessed!

Suggested is our need for patience...
To allow inconsistency to cease.
Suggested is a resistance...
To want a stop to fighting,
That only increases the movement of the weak.
Suggested is a greatness kept,
By the spilling of blood and sorrows wept.
Suggested is we maintain,
A mental stressing drain!
To keep thieves looting resources...
And driving those of consciousness,
Further into an abyss!

Today...
It is not appropriate to be honest.
Or imply it in retrospect.
We live in times
In which truth is deluded,
With a mixture of suggestions...
Followed by denials confessed!

And deeper with resolutions,
Providing an absence of thoughtful solutions...
Are those who lead pleading,
We can succeed by sheer request!
And that's all they are suggesting we do...
As those who view ahead of us coming,
A deadend awaiting with an awarded mess!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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0135An informal note to God

In case you were on holiday, this nice sunny weather,
(and may I say, what a great idea the Sun is?)
I thought I'd dropp you a line to say, in case you missed it
that our great President, the Bush
who burns with virtue like an oil well yields,
approves that 'Intelligent Design' should be made
along with the Theory of Evolution
a cornerstone of the education of our great nation.

So just in case you felt a little reduced in function
and come back from holiday to
'Oh, were you away? We hadn't missed you...'
and your new official status, that you were simply around
(around? hmmm) to 'flick the switch'
while two something-or-others got together
to evolve a Creation with its quaint old ideas, like love,
(and by the way, your bright idea
of one, two and three, etc., was cute, too...)

I'd just like to take this opportunity to say
that in your modest role of
Intelligent Design
you certainly flicked the switch on
a pretty spectacular show - including those laws
which, understood by some quite impressive intelligences,
enabled the rather smaller, but impressive
'intelligent design' of the space-shuttle
to.. er.. 'evolve'.. and
to fly a fraction, Icarus-like,
nearer the sun...yep, some show...

So 'intelligent design' would be, like,
from those two proto-thingies that happened to
to meet across a room crowded with...emptiness? or everything? -
to whatever intelligent design might be needed
from Now, and every new 'invention' in the world
until...well... Then...

That seems something even better than Evolution
and a bit similar to Providence and
well, sort of.. eternal...? And universal too...

So if You are still enjoying your seventh day of rest
this pleasant sunny weather (somewhere
ecologically balanced, like the seaside, may I hope?) ,

thanks.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Rearview Mirror Romance

Im movin Im feeling like Im rollin on my own (what could be better)
Then somewhere drivin my car the radio turn it on (what could be better)
I check around in traffic from my point of view (what could be better)
Then I saw her in the mirror
Maybe the same thing has happened to you
It was
(chorus)
Romance in a rearview mirror
Romance after just one look
Romance in a rearview mirror
I didnt know her but it didnt matter
Romance in a rearview mirror
Just by chance I still cant believe that its true love reflected sight
Its a rearview romance tonight
She pulled up close first glance I saw here eyes (what could be better)
I couldnt stop starin at her she didnt realize (what could be better)
Then looked up in the mirror smile on her faace
There she goes heaven knows
Maybe the same thing has happened to you
It was
Romance in a rearview mirror
Romance after just one look
Romance in a rearview mirror
I didnt know her but it didnt matter
Romance in a rearview mirror
Just by chance I still cant believe that its true love reflected sight
Its a rearview romance tonight
(solo)
There she goes heaven knows
I wanna meet her all alone
Romance in a rearview mirror
Romance after just one look
Romance in a rearview mirror
I didnt know her but it didnt matter
Romance in a rearview mirror
Just by chance I still cant believe that its true love reflected sight
Its a rearview romance tonight
Romance in a rearview mirror
Romance after just one look
Romance in a rearview mirror
I didnt know her but it didnt matter
Romance in a rearview mirror
Just by chance I still cant believe that its true love reflected sight
Its a rearview romance tonight
Romance in a rearview mirror
Romance after just one look
Romance in a rearview mirror
I didnt know her but it didnt matter
Romance in a rearview mirror
Just by chance I still cant believe that its true love reflected sight

[...] Read more

song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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La Vie Antérieure (My Earlier Life)

J'ai longtemps habité sous de vastes portiques
Que les soleils marins teignaient de mille feux,
Et que leurs grands piliers, droits et majestueux,
Rendaient pareils, le soir, aux grottes basaltiques.

Les houles, en roulant les images des cieux,
Mêlaient d'une façon solennelle et mystique
Les tout-puissants accords de leur riche musique
Aux couleurs du couchant reflété par mes yeux.

C'est là que j'ai vécu dans les voluptés calmes,
Au milieu de l'azur, des vagues, des splendeurs
Et des esclaves nus, tout imprégnés d'odeurs,

Qui me rafraîchissaient le front avec des palmes,
Et dont l'unique soin était d'approfondir
Le secret douloureux qui me faisait languir.

My Former Life

For a long time I dwelt under vast porticos
Which the ocean suns lit with a thousand colors,
The pillars of which, tall, straight, and majestic,
Made them, in the evening, like basaltic grottos.

The billows which cradled the image of the sky
Mingled, in a solemn, mystical way,
The omnipotent chords of their rich harmonies
With the sunsets' colors reflected in my eyes;

It was there that I lived in voluptuous calm,
In splendor, between the azure and the sea,
And I was attended by slaves, naked, perfumed,

Who fanned my brow with fronds of palms
And whose sole task it was to fathom
The dolorous secret that made me pine away.

— Translated by William Aggeler

Former Life

I've lived beneath huge portals where marine
Suns coloured, with a myriad fires, the waves;
At eve majestic pillars made the scene
Resemble those of vast basaltic caves.

The breakers, rolling the reflected skies,
Mixed, in a solemn, enigmatic way,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Baudelaire
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 05

The country is adorned by intelligent and the religion by virtuous men. Padshahs stand more in need of the advice of intelligent men than intelligent men of the proximity of padshahs.

If thou wilt listen to advice, padshah,
There is none better in all books than this:
‘Entrust a business to an intelligent man
Although it may not be his occupation.’

poem by Sa di
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Reality of life...

All those minding the attitude of multitude,
Aren't dragged into the den of solitude,
All those who are at the den of solitude,
Aren't minding the attitude of multitude,
All those who learn to read the mind of people,
Aren't energized to be useful,
All those who are energized to be useful,
Aren't reading the mind of the people,
All those who succeed are not intelligent,
All those who are intelligent are not successful,
All flowers that bloomed will not become seeds,
All those seeds not produce flowers indeed,
All those who succeed in life are not intelligent,
All those who are intelligent are not successful, .

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Just Say Youre Sorry

Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
It aint funny
It aint cute
Cant be conceit, theres an ____________
Oh no, but things dont work that way baby
Dont click your heels
Dont give a hoot
Dont want a twenty-one gun salute
Never do
Tell me, tell me baby what you want
You suggested that we bury the ____
Remember this reminder when you start to get cold
You think youll only mind
Just wait until youre old
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong
Too ugly for beauty
Too________________
You take what you get
To be a horseman of you
Oh, no dont you take your trust on baby
You suggested that we bury the ____
Remember this reminder when you start to get cold
You think youll only mind
Just wait until youre old
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong
Baby shakes his rattle
cos hes emptied his bowl
Dont know what hes eating
But he does what hes told
Oh yes he does
They all say the boy be crazy
You suggested that we bury the ____
Remember this reminder when you start to get cold
You think youll only mind
Just wait until youre old
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong
Just say youre sorry
And Ill say Im wrong

song performed by Black Crowes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hiawatga's Photographing

FROM his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood,
Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together.
In its case it lay compactly,
Folded into nearly nothing;

But he opened out the hinges,
Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
Like a complicated figure
In the Second Book of Euclid.

This he perched upon a tripod -
Crouched beneath its dusky cover -
Stretched his hand, enforcing silence -
Said, "Be motionless, I beg you!"
Mystic, awful was the process.

All the family in order
Sat before him for their pictures:
Each in turn, as he was taken,
Volunteered his own suggestions,
His ingenious suggestions.

First the Governor, the Father:
He suggested velvet curtains
Looped about a massy pillar;
And the corner of a table,
Of a rosewood dining-table.
He would hold a scroll of something,
Hold it firmly in his left-hand;
He would keep his right-hand buried
(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;
He would contemplate the distance
With a look of pensive meaning,
As of ducks that die ill tempests.

Grand, heroic was the notion:
Yet the picture failed entirely:
Failed, because he moved a little,
Moved, because he couldn't help it.

Next, his better half took courage;
SHE would have her picture taken.
She came dressed beyond description,
Dressed in jewels and in satin
Far too gorgeous for an empress.
Gracefully she sat down sideways,
With a simper scarcely human,

[...] Read more

poem by Lewis Carroll from Phantasmagoria and Other Poems
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Picture-Writing

In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
"Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
"On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
"Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others."
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Song Of Hiawatha XIV: Picture-Writing

In those days said Hiawatha,
'Lo! how all things fade and perish!
From the memory of the old men
Pass away the great traditions,
The achievements of the warriors,
The adventures of the hunters,
All the wisdom of the Medas,
All the craft of the Wabenos,
All the marvellous dreams and visions
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets!
'Great men die and are forgotten,
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom
Perish in the ears that hear them,
Do not reach the generations
That, as yet unborn, are waiting
In the great, mysterious darkness
Of the speechless days that shall be!
'On the grave-posts of our fathers
Are no signs, no figures painted;
Who are in those graves we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
Of what kith they are and kindred,
From what old, ancestral Totem,
Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver,
They descended, this we know not,
Only know they are our fathers.
'Face to face we speak together,
But we cannot speak when absent,
Cannot send our voices from us
To the friends that dwell afar off;
Cannot send a secret message,
But the bearer learns our secret,
May pervert it, may betray it,
May reveal it unto others.'
Thus said Hiawatha, walking
In the solitary forest,
Pondering, musing in the forest,
On the welfare of his people.
From his pouch he took his colors,
Took his paints of different colors,
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree
Painted many shapes and figures,
Wonderful and mystic figures,
And each figure had a meaning,
Each some word or thought suggested.
Gitche Manito the Mighty,
He, the Master of Life, was painted
As an egg, with points projecting
To the four winds of the heavens.
Everywhere is the Great Spirit,

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Get Over the Hump

Take your bumps and get those lumps,
Although some days you'll be grumpy.
You may also feel crunchy.
But you will get over the hump.

Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.

Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!

Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!

Take your bumps and get those lumps,
Although some days you'll be grumpy.
You may also feel crunchy.
But you will get over the hump.

Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
What is this that you're doing?
There's nothing you're improving!

Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.

Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
To feel crunchy?
What is this that you think that you are doing?
To feel grumpy?
What is it that you're seeking.
A beating that is treating? ? ?

Why do you overwork and welcome ruin?
To feel crunchy?
What is this that you think that you are doing?
To feel grumpy?
What is it that you're seeking.
A beating that is treating? ? ?

Take your medicine unsweetened,
It is suggested that you do.
Keep yourself from being beatened.
Or you will always feel screwed.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hiawatha's Photographing

From his shoulder Hiawatha
Took the camera of rosewood,
Made of sliding, folding rosewood;
Neatly put it all together.
In its case it lay compactly,
Folded into nearly nothing;

But he opened out the hinges,
Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges,
Till it looked all squares and oblongs,
Like a complicated figure
In the Second Book of Euclid.

This he perched upon a tripod -
Crouched beneath its dusky cover -
Stretched his hand, enforcing silence -
Said, "Be motionless, I beg you!"
Mystic, awful was the process.

All the family in order
Sat before him for their pictures:
Each in turn, as he was taken,
Volunteered his own suggestions,
His ingenious suggestions.

First the Governor, the Father:
He suggested velvet curtains
Looped about a massy pillar;
And the corner of a table,
Of a rosewood dining-table.
He would hold a scroll of something,
Hold it firmly in his left-hand;
He would keep his right-hand buried
(Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat;
He would contemplate the distance
With a look of pensive meaning,
As of ducks that die ill tempests.

Grand, heroic was the notion:
Yet the picture failed entirely:
Failed, because he moved a little,
Moved, because he couldn't help it.

Next, his better half took courage;
SHE would have her picture taken.
She came dressed beyond description,
Dressed in jewels and in satin
Far too gorgeous for an empress.
Gracefully she sat down sideways,
With a simper scarcely human,

[...] Read more

poem by Lewis Carroll
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The swan (Terzanelle)

I saw a swan reflected on a pond
majestically with bended neck
with some little ones trailing beyond

speck upon speck
reflected on the glittering surface,
majestically with bended neck

as if sailing solemnly to efface
all doubt to its grace and splendour
reflected on the glittering surface

and emanating from the bird some warmth, some ardour
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me.
All doubt to its grace and splendour

was made insignificant by sheer beauty
and without mate with widowed grief
the tale of Andromache was reminded to me

who loved the hero Hector but brief.
I saw a swan reflected on a pond
and without mate with widowed grief
with some little ones trailing beyond.

[References: Les Fleurs du Mal: The Swan by Charles Pierre Baudelaire. The swan by Roy Campbell.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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Tell The Colors Of Devil!

When happiness is absorbed,
The harmony is not reflected.
When the innocence is stolen and absorbed,
The peace is not reflected.
When all good emotions are absorbed,
The useful actions are not reflected.
When all colors are absorbed to be black,
What goodness can be reflected?

Evils have many colors on the screen,
When colors of cruelty and sadism scream,
the skull and broken bones of human,
have become the symbol to threaten,
and warn the danger, red can flow,
to our minds to scare us to be nymphs,
all these colors have the right effect,
when it is dark and the sun is out.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Episodes of This

What episodes of this has not been read?
What challenges were missed and have not been fed?
Why are those professing to be christians,
Turning away with self righteous backs?
And why are they quick to criticize...
With demoralizing practiced acts?

Something is not 'clicking'
To connect with knowledge known!
Something is disturbing...
About the flow that keeps this growing.
And analysts repeat statistics as if none of this is showing!
Shoppers at the malls could care less of current events.
As television broadcasts sports...
As if this is the world condensed!
To make a buck to keep people seduced,
And suckered up!

Paparazzi making 'stars' out of those with lacking talent!
Catching minds entertained off guard...
While those in charge are clearly out of tune,
Taking sides to what is apparently off balance!
And those people convinced they are Jesus' decendents,
Are proving a dementia from all perspectives!
As more of this voraciousness spirals...
In an avoidance as if none of this exists!

What episodes of this has not been read?
What challenges were missed and have not been fed?
Why are those professing to be christians,
Turning away with self righteous backs?
And why are they quick to criticize...
With demoralizing practiced acts?

Large doses of medications must be passed...
Slipped quickly in a method,
That keeps this mental trash.
Making this 'not' a sickness but unresisted bliss,
To last!

As new fads expose bare asses of those...
In chapters of a morality,
Enforced and inflicted upon the world.
Men. Women. Boys and Girls.
Since all of this is foolishness...
Resulting in stupidness conducted,
As to 'who' will control the oil...
To raise the prices for the use of natural gas,
Sucked from the soil of foreign lands.
To grease the palms of just a few greedy hands!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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