People who gossip give themselves away. They tell how they truly feel about someone, but tell everyone BUT them.

People who gossip don't want to know the truth. If they did they would ask the one involved.

People who gossip believe lies, WANT to believe lies, and persuade others to believe lies.

Gossip is censorship and gross injustice. The one involved has no right to defend him/herself. Gossip is a Kangaroo Court.

People who gossip deceive themselves. They deny it is gossip by calling it by something else to justify it.

Gossip is conspiracy. "A plot by two or more people against..."

Gossip doesn't want to know "The rest of the story."

Because of judgmental attitudes, the one who gossips will avoid and alienate the subject of the gossip, believing lies. Usually, how much they gossip is proportional to how much they avoid them.

The one hearing the lie, then finding out the truth later on - will continue to cling to the original story, and will wind up still avoiding the one involved, since it's too humiliating to admit they were wrong. Subsequently, the subject of the gossip is the one who suffers alienation.

If you are carnally minded, your thinking will "Dovetail" with the mentality of the gossip system and it's whole network of lies. You will twist convenient pieces of any argument to support preconceived thinking.

Gossip sows seeds of mistrust. The ones involved cause the subject of the gossip to lose faith in them.

There is no accountability and no responsibility with gossip. A tabloid mentality says anything about anyone for any reason, and answers to no one.

However, gossip is worse than tabloid newspapers! At least with them, you can go to the local newsstand to find out what they are saying about you!

Gossip polarizes people. The gossiper winds up resenting the subject of the gossip, true or not.

Carnally minded people who hear the gossip know that it is a lie because they don't inconvenience themselves to find out the truth.

If they do hear "The rest of the story" they "Play the devil's advocate" against the victim.

Gossip is a "loyal" one way street. Mrs. A is loyal to Mrs. B. If you tell A something about B, she will check with B to verify it. But if they talk about YOU (an outsider), they will NEVER tell you what they said to verify anything. To question it would be for them to betray each other.

Gossip goes into denial by sticking to the original story, and grasping for straws to avoid truth.

Gossip has the uncanny ability of drawing more and more conclusions on less and less info.

When gossip reaches "Critical Mass", you have a lynch mob mentality. (Remember Rigoletto?)

Gossip has a "Built-it seeking mechanism". It gravitates toward those who promote it, and avoid those who expose it.

Gossip has a built-in protection mechanism:
a-Pride stands in the way of admitting that they gossip - so never find out the truth from "The horse's mouth".
b-Pride stands in the way of finding out the truth for fear they may have been wrong.
c-The more time goes by, the more cemented they are in their belief that it is true. Hitler once said "If you tell a lie long enough, people will believe it."
d-Pride stands in the way of apologizing to the subject that they drew conclusions without knowing all the facts.
e-The more loyal they are in their relationship, the more protected the gossip is. Just like the "Solemn oath" all the elephants took when gossiping about "Mrs. Jumbo and Dumbo". If the gossipers have a strongly established loyal tie with each other, the gossip is like protecting a secret oath.

Why is it when one gossips to another about a third person, it alienates that person. If they tell C what A said, they alienate themselves from A, if they tell A what B said, it alienates them from B.

Gossip uses sincere people unwittingly, causing lies to be more convincing, since those who hear them think they are the truth, and only perpetuate the scenario.

Gossip has the uncanny ability of benefiting the gossipers in areas of approbation, flattery, "mutual enemy society", all at the victim's expense.

After so much time goes by, people only have a general opinion of you (bad) w/o remembering the details and lies. Consequently, attempts to set the record straight is futile. (ie. The 10 O'clock news)

By taking part in gossip, in the final analysis you are an "Accessory to the crime".

Because of this, there is a "blackmail" protection built into it because each party can preventing them from "blowing the whistle" on each other.

The door is now wide open for gossip to have free reign. Once one gossip session is permitted, a precedent is now set for others - even sessions about YOU!

Beware! How much someone talks to you about others may be how much they talk to others about you!

You see there are sometimes that you think that you have read very little and you read all the time to read and read and read.

I love novels and I had found some sites that have novels, for free read or free downloads. The best things about these sites are that most of the novels are newly pressed.

There are lots of sites that have classic novels but newly pressed novels are hard to find.

And you know why??? Don’t you?

Of course, it’s because they have copy right law.

But we don’t have such a law.

I don’t know what kind of novels you like, so I will put the address of the sites for you. I hope you enjoy reading.

http://online-novels.blogspot.com/

This story shows how complex Einstein could be. Not long after his arrival in Princeton he was invited, by the wife of one of the professors of mathematics at Princeton, to be guest of honor at a tea.-Reluctantly, Einstein consented. After the tea had progressed for a time, the excited hostess, thrilled to have such an eminent guest of honor, fluttered out into the center of activity and with raised arms silenced the group. Bubbling out some words expressing her thrill and pleasure, she turned to Einstein and said: "I wonder, Dr. Einstein, if you would be so kind as to explain to my guests in a few words, just what is relativity theory ? "

Without any hesitation Einstein rose to his feet and told a story. He said he was reminded of a walk he one day had with his blind friend. The day was hot and he turned to the blind friend and said, "I wish I had a glass of milk."

"Glass," replied the blind friend, "I know what that is. But what do you mean by milk?"

"Why, milk is a white fluid," explained Einstein.

"Now fluid, I know what that is," said the blind man. "but what is white ? "

" Oh, white is the color of a swan's feathers."

" Feathers, now I know what they are, but what is a swan ? "

"A swan is a bird with a crooked neck."

" Neck, I know what that is, but what do you mean by crooked ? "

At this point Einstein said he lost his patience. He seized his blind friend's arm and pulled it straight. "There, now your arm is straight," he said. Then he bent the blind friend's arm at the elbow. "Now it is crooked."

"Ah," said the blind friend. "Now I know what milk is."

And Einstein, at the tea, sat down.

Red roses were her favorites, her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died, the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, "Be my Valentine," like all the years before.

Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
"I love you even more this year, than last year on this day."
"My love for you will always grow, with every passing year."
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.

"So the Prince set Cinderella upon his horse and took her away to his fairy kingdom. And when they arrived he put a crown of gold upon her head, and led her to a silver throne. And so they were married and lived happily ever after!"

The child of seven shut the green and gold book softly, almost reverently, and as the gilt-edged pages fell silently together she saw pictures before her half-shut eyes: the sweet, demure little maiden in the peasant's hut, the radiant lady in the ball-room, and the gracious princess clad in ermine and jewels. And the child sighed.

"My!" she whispered to herself, "if I were only the princess." And she began to dream again, only this time she herself was the heroine.

"Let me see," she murmured--for she had a little habit of thinking aloud--"I'll have black, black curls; and violet eyes; and an alabaster brow." (This description, of course, did not tally with the chubby baby face and straight little braids and round eyes which she really possessed.) "And the prince will be tall and dark, with a curly moustache and big brown eyes, and peaches-and-cream looking cheeks. And when we get married we will sit on lovely thrones with cushions, and look at each other, and eat ice cream all day long. Won't it be lovely!"

The child put the book carefully back on the shelf and went to the nearest mirror. Back at her looked the solemn eyes; unwinking, grave. And then she turned away and went to play with her dolls. For deep-rooted in her heart was the fearful thought that never, never would she look like a princess. And then, how could the prince--the tall, dark, gallant prince, who waited somewhere for her to grow up--marry her?

happy new year

for 2009.

i was in a hurry and did not search well for a better pic.

so you add a one to 2008 and change the pig to

what is this years animal.

waooooooooo

how much do i know about the new year.!!!!!!! 

Carlos felt something strange. What was wrong?

He woke up late that Saturday, as usual. The street sounds sailed through his window. People were talking loudly. He heard laughter, mothers calling for their children, kids playing, someone yelling. The music blared from the stand at the corner. What was wrong?

In his apartment, everything was silent. He didn’t hear his wife fussing in the kitchen. Rebecca usually made a big breakfast on Saturdays.

 He didn’t hear his daughter, Katie, bumping her shoes or fists into Jerry’s door. He didn’t hear his son screaming for her to stop. Even the dog was quiet. What was wrong? No radio. No conversation.

Carlos looked at the clock across the room. Ten o’clock. Something was definitely wrong!

He pulled on his jeans and ran his hands through his hair. He went slowly to the door and listened. Nothing. He opened the door a little and looked around. Nothing. He slid his body through the opening. His heart was pumping. He could feel it pound his chest.

He started toward the kitchen. His feet moved slowly from heel to toe.

“Beca? Jerry? Katie? “ He thought he heard a scuffle in the kitchen. He inched his way through the kitchen opening. He jumped back startled.  

 “Happy birthday, to you, happy birthday to you!!!”  His wife and children were grinning from ear to ear. They let the dog loose. The little terrier jumped into Carlos’ arms.

Sitting in the middle of the kitchen table was a box. The gift wrap was bright red. It had a silver bow on its top. They all looked at it and held their breaths.

Carlos walked to the box and slowly opened it. Inside were the keys to a dirt bike. The bike wasn’t new, but it was his! Everyone had chipped in to buy it.  Carlos was speechless.

Soon his friends and other relatives began to drop by. They stood on the sidewalk, smiling, whistling and screaming.

Carlos could not hear them. He could not think, or talk, or even eat. But he could drive. They watched him round the corner. The sound of the motor was sweet music. He had all day to hear it.  

by Leecy Wise

I do not like camping.  I like my house and my bed and my shower.  I guess that means I’m weird.  Men are supposed to like camping.  When I was eight, my father took me on our first and last camping trip together.  It was the worst weekend of my life. It was freezing cold.  It rained.  We went for a hike, and I got lost.  My dad had tried to teach me how to use a compass.  We walked for a mile while he talked about north, south, east and west.  I was cold and bored, so I didn’t listen very well.  He left me with the compass and told me to find my way back.  My dad says I wasn’t lost for very long.  It felt like a whole day.  I swear it was dark when my dad found me, but he says there was plenty of light.  The food tasted like dirt.  The sodas were warm even though the temperature was below zero.  My sleeve caught on fire when I tried to warm my hands.  And my dad would not stop talking about survival. “Tommy, if you practice these 33 survival tips, you might be able to live in the woods for up to 4 weeks.”  I have never been so happy to get home.  My company recently transferred me to Denver, Colorado.  I heard that winters in Denver are almost as cold as Alaska.  My new co-workers have invited me to go hiking or camping several times since I arrived.  I keep making excuses, because I do not want to tell them the truth.  My wife thinks I should just tell them.  My buddy from Texas thinks I should get over it, because I’m not eight anymore.  I’m afraid that if I go, I will make a complete fool of myself.  If I don’t go, they will quit asking.  If they quit asking, I won’t have any buddies to hang out with.  Back home, my buddies and I played golf every other Saturday.  I miss golf.  I thought about asking these guys if they want to play golf sometime.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that it was a bad idea.  They would think I was joking.  Wilderness stuff is what people here do for fun

Niko felt awful.  He didn’t know what was wrong.  He felt a pain in his stomach and a pain in his head.  His dad said he just needed a hard day’s work in the sun.  His mom gave him chicken soup.  His grandmother gave him menudo.  His aunt gave him green tea.  His wife gave him a hard time.  Nothing helped.

 So Niko went to the doctor.  In fact, he went to seven doctors. After a while he couldn’t remember their names, so he gave them numbers.  Each one said something different.

 Dr. Uno said he had a stomach virus.  He gave Niko pills.

Dr. Dos said he had food poisoning.  He pumped Niko’s stomach.

Dr. Tres thought it was an ulcer.  He told him to eat mashed potatoes and dry toast.

Dr. Cuatro did an ultrasound.  He didn’t find anything, but he gave Niko herbs and vitamins just in case.

Dr. Cinco said it was in his head.  He sent him to a head doctor.

Dr. Seis asked a lot of questions but he didn’t have any answers.  He said, “Mmmm…very interesting,” and “How do you feel about your mother’s chicken soup?”  

 “I feel pain!” Niko said.  He wanted to scream, “Pain from the questions, pain from the pills, and pain from the doctors!” But he kept quiet.  Dr. Seis sent Niko to Dr. Siete for tests. 

Dr. Siete made Niko look at cards with messy ink stains.  He made Niko read the letters of the alphabet out loud.  He made Niko count backwards by seven.  When the tests were over, Niko’s head hurt even more.  His stomach was in knots.  He didn’t know whether he or the doctor was more stupid.

Back in Brian’s bedroom a thousand miles away in San Francisco, the wall calendar was still stuck on July. But it was now October. The national parks, such as Yellowstone and Yosemite, which appeared on the other pages, were pretty, but he had seen photos of them before.

The July page had taken him by surprise. At first he didn't even believe it was a real place. It could have been a scene from one of his favorite science-fiction movies that took place on distant planets. The ground was a color he had never seen before. It was not quite red but not quite brown either. It reminded Brian of the color of rust, except that it seemed to glow.

In the center of the photograph there was a rock formation. It was the same color as the ground. The way it sprang up out of the ground like an upside-down U, Brian thought it looked like an arch. He laughed to himself when he saw the photo caption, which told him that the name of rock formation was Delicate Arch.

"I guess it really is an arch," he said to himself. The caption said Delicate Arch was in Arches National Park, in the eastern part of Utah.

It looked to Brian like Delicate Arch had been carved or built by someone, but the caption said all the arches in the national park were formed naturally. They had been formed over millions of years and were made of sandstone, which is also called slick rock. The caption said the ground seemed to glow because the photo was taken at sunset.