If Jor-el had been reborn.....

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Poems that should be plagiarized....

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Happy Apocalypse Year!

Happy Apocalypse Year or as I like to call it - HAY! Isn't it catchy? :P

HOW I LEARNED TO STOP WORRYING AND LOVE TWITTER

http://twitter.com/#!/broslife

https://twitter.com/#!/MrsStephenFry

http://twitter.com/#!/OHnewsroom

https://twitter.com/#!/lord_voldemort7

https://twitter.com/#!/yoda

http://twitter.com/#!/Edgar_Allan_Poe

https://twitter.com/#!/homerjsimpson/

https://twitter.com/#!/bender

https://twitter.com/#!/God_Damn_Batman

http://twitter.com/#!/gregorcorp

http://twitter.com/#!/thebloggess

http://twitter.com/#!/shitmydadsays

http://twitter.com/#!/peopleofwalmart

http://twitter.com/#!/tombodett

http://twitter.com/#!/funnyordie

http://twitter.com/#!/FrodoBaggins

http://twitter.com/#!/fatherkelly

http://twitter.com/#!/search?q=%23improvefilmtitlesbyaddinginmypants

Souvenirs of private journeys.....

One might wonder at the title. After all, each journey means something else
to each person. What truths do we cling to as we wind along the mortal coil?

The way of life has changed.
The canvas for action has changed.
The consequences of our actions have changed.

Kant claims that virtuous intent is sufficient. The deed does not matter. Nietzsche states that it is not only intent that matters, skill in executing the task is also required. Sometimes I wonder if even both are sufficient. Space and time seem so much more important on occasion. Take the location of Arthur Wellesley on 18th June,1815 for instance. In the real world, things never seem to happen in the right place, at the right time. Before you sink into apathy and hopelessness, think on the following:

Let mortals beware of words

For with words we lie

Can speak peace

When we mean war

But song is true

Let music for peace

Be the paradigm

For peace means change

At the right time.

Forget to Learn!

Have you ever read something that you really liked? Im sure you have. Have you then put that precious book away safely tucked away in some corner? Again, i'm pretty sure the answer is yes. Have you accidentally stumbled on it years later, experienced a surge of excitement and dropped everything to reach back into that moment in time? Nod twice for yes. The feeling i'm trying to describe here goes so much more beyond nostalgia. It's those forgotten pieces of yourself that you hid away in time. The great escape to foreign lands, adventures across space and time. That little sigh when you put down the book, contented at a couple of hours well-wasted. When you didn't even know what an annual report was. :). Why am i writing about this you ask? Well, it really is very simple. When you're staring down at your lunch of chinese pasta chole bhature(Yes, that really was the menu), you suddenly realise that there are more important things in life. But when asked what precisely those things are, you generally go 'I dont know man...........'. Well, here's your answer. Dig up that book and inject a healthy dose of productive procrastination in your day.

MARVIN SPEAKS!

"I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I’ve ended up where I needed to be."

"Time you enjoy wasting, was not wasted"

Thats all folks!

:D