<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867</id><updated>2011-04-22T05:13:35.308+04:30</updated><title type='text'>Honest Approach</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-117596145764690865</id><published>2007-04-07T19:10:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2007-04-07T19:27:37.926+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Fixing a problem.</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;A lot of times trying to fix a problem can make everything worse!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we've seen it in our everyday lives, but heck, I want to know why something like this can happen!? Don't we mean well? Then why does it sometimes go wrong!?&lt;br /&gt;Well... I thought a little bit and came to the conclusion that a good reason why we sometimes get opposite results and ulitmately fail when trying to fix a problem, is that we don't know "all the facts". Even though we might think that we're tackling the situation correctly, we might be completely off!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a good (but maybe naive) example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend wrote: I am a medical student currently doing a rotation in toxicology at the poison control center. Today, this woman called in very upset because she caught her little daughter eating ants. I quickly reassured her that the ants are not harmful and there would be no need to bring her daughter into the hospital. She calmed down, and at the end of the conversation she mentioned that she &lt;i&gt;intelligently&lt;/i&gt; gave her daughter some ant poison to eat in order to kill the ants. I sent an ambulance right away!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-117596145764690865?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/117596145764690865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=117596145764690865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117596145764690865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117596145764690865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2007/04/fixing-problem.html' title='Fixing a problem.'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-117566836051904933</id><published>2007-04-04T09:56:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2007-04-04T10:02:40.833+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Wanna be a bear!?</title><content type='html'>You know, I'm beginning to think that humans would rather be bears than humans... seriously, if you overlook the intellect, passion and religious awakening that human beings are capable of having, then it will surely be more appealing to be a bear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can prove it... A person who wants to be a bear would think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a bear .... &lt;br /&gt;If you're a bear, you get to hibernate.  You do nothing but sleep for six months. &lt;br /&gt;I could deal with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you hibernate, you're supposed to eat yourself stupid. &lt;br /&gt;I could deal with that, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a bear, you birth your children (who are the size of walnuts) while you're sleeping and wake to partially grown, cute cuddly  cubs. &lt;br /&gt;I could definitely deal with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a mama bear, everyone knows you mean business. You swat anyone who bothers your cubs.  If your cubs get out of line, you swat them too. &lt;br /&gt;I could deal with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're a bear, your mate EXPECTS you to wake up growling.  He EXPECTS that you will have hairy legs and excess body fat. &lt;br /&gt;Yup..... Wanna be a bear!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-117566836051904933?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/117566836051904933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=117566836051904933&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117566836051904933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117566836051904933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2007/04/wanna-be-bear.html' title='Wanna be a bear!?'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-117566770818159444</id><published>2007-04-04T09:49:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2007-04-04T09:51:48.446+03:30</updated><title type='text'>20th Century</title><content type='html'>"The chief danger of the 20th century will be religion without the Holy Ghost, Christianity without Christ, forgiveness without repentance, salvation without regeneration, politics without God, and Heaven without Hell."&lt;br /&gt;- General Booth (Founder, Salvation Army)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-117566770818159444?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/117566770818159444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=117566770818159444&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117566770818159444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117566770818159444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2007/04/20th-century.html' title='20th Century'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-117561241426414209</id><published>2007-04-03T18:26:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2007-04-03T18:30:14.646+03:30</updated><title type='text'>ein neuer Start</title><content type='html'>noch ein neuer Start&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brasilien, Herbst 2006&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seit Nietzsche bist du bekanntlich tot. Trotzdem bist du aus der Welt nicht wegzudenken. Darum muss ich dich berücksichtigen, dir schreiben, wenn ich mich mit einem Projekt Briefe an die Welt beschäftige.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wer bist du eigentlich? Oder vielmehr: Wer warst du eigentlich, als es dich noch gab? Warst du der eine Gott, der Jehova der Christen? Und ist derjenige der Juden derselbe gewesen oder ein anderer? Warst du auch der Allah der Moslems, oder ist das eine ganz andere Sache? Oder warst du gar identisch mit einer hinduistischen Gottheit, mit Ganesha vielleicht, meinem Liebling, oder Shiva?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nun, inzwischen bist du tot. Also spielt das kaum mehr eine Rolle. Allerdings beschäftigst du uns weiter. Die Darwinisten und die Kreationisten streiten jedenfalls darum, ob es dich nicht doch noch gibt. Und Kriege werden immer noch viele geführt in deinem Namen. Wem fühlst du dich eigentlich verpflichtet, wem hilfst du, wenn beide Seiten dich im Streit anrufen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Du weißt, für mich bist du allgegenwärtig. Aber ich nenne dich nicht gerne Gott. Zu viele widersprüchliche Bilder sind damit verbunden. Für mich hast du keinen Namen, kein Gesicht. Du bist das Alles-in-Allem. Du bist das Geheimnis innerhalb von allem. Du bist das, was macht, dass etwas ist und nicht nichts ist. Das grosse Mysterium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Der Streit zwischen den Darwinisten und den Kreationisten ist mir ein Rätsel. Warum verstehen die letzteren ein Universum, das aus sich selbst heraus existiert und lebt, als seelenlos? Warum wollen sie eine lenkende Hand dahinter haben? Da ist keine; die Darwinisten haben schon Recht. Denn du bist der Urgrund, das Allerinnerste, dich findet man zuinnerst in allem, in uns, in den Pflanzen und Tieren, im Gestein genauso wie in der Luft, in den Sternen genauso wie in den Atomen und Elementarteilchen. Du bist es, was aus sich selbst heraus als Schöpfung geschieht. Da gibt es keine Spaltung. Du bist Schöpfer und Geschöpf. Da ist nur das Eine. Wenn wir die Materie zergliedern, um dich zu finden, stossen wir auf das grosse Nichts. Wahrscheinlichkeitswellen, nennen wir das. Ein grosses, lebendiges, waches, sich selbst bewusstes, intelligentes Nichts, dessen Existenz zu erklären wir tunlichst vermeiden. Die Quantenphysiker entdecken dich gerade mit viel Aufwand. Die Mystiker haben dich immer schon in sich geschaut mit vielleicht nicht weniger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also gibt es dich doch. Du bist eine Wahrscheinlichkeitswelle! Darum kann ich ja auch das Problem der Darwinisten nicht sehen. Natürlich gibt es nichts dahinter, keinen Designer, der das Ding in Händen hält. Aber wie wollen sie denn dieses umwerfende Faktum nennen und erklären, dass tatsächlich etwas ist? Von mir aus kann man es Gott nennen. Obwohl ich das unnötig finde.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hier sitzt der Irrtum der Darwinisten: Dass Design aus sich selbst heraus, ohne Schöpfer, der davon getrennt wäre, entsteht, muss doch nicht auf Seelenlosigkeit und Zufälligkeit hinweisen. Im Gegenteil! Gerade darin zeigt sich doch das grossartige, letztlich unerklärliche Wunder, an dem wir teilhaben, der göttliche Funke, der allem innewohnt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weder Darwinisten noch Fundamentalisten scheinen fähig, die dualistische Spaltung zu überwinden, deshalb streiten sie um eine Uneinigkeit, die im Grunde genommen gar nicht existiert. Die Menschen, ob Darwinisten oder Fundamentalisten, sind dem Wunderbaren des Lebens so sehr entfremdet, dass sie nur noch ihre Idee (Gott oder kein Gott) sehen können und nicht mehr das Mysterium des Lebens, das Intelligenz in Aktion ist, Gott in Aktion, Schöpfung in Aktion ist. Evolution in Aktion ist. Es spielt keine Rolle, wie wir dich nennen. Ob wir dich überhaupt benennen. Du bist da. Du bist das.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es gibt keinen Schöpfer, der eine Schöpfung hervorbringt. Es gibt aber auch kein seelenloses, mechanistisches Universum. Es gibt eine Schöpfung, die in ihrem Innersten etwas völlig Unfassbares birgt, das sie und ihre Evolution hervorbringt: eine intelligente Kraft, eine wirkende Energie, die nicht zu trennen ist von dem, was sie schafft. Gott ist alles in allem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ich sage dir, Gott, du bist eine Wahrscheinlichkeitswelle! Etwas, was erst zu existieren beginnt, wenn wir es beobachten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wie kommen wir dazu, etwas, was aus sich selbst heraus entsteht, als seelenlos, als mechanisch zu beschreiben? Gerade dies ist doch das Wunder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es gibt niemanden da draussen, dem wir unsere Existenz verdanken, behauptet der nüchterne Wissenschaftler. Er hat Recht. Da draussen gibt es nichts, nichts, was von uns getrennt wäre. Drinnen muss man dich suchen, zuinnerst innen, sei es in der mystischen Innenschau der Selbsterkenntnis oder in der subatomaren Untersuchung der Materie im Innersten des Äusseren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leben entwickelt sich überall dort, wo es kann, ganz von selbst, behauptet der Wissenschaftler und meint den Beweis gegen eine göttliche Kraft geführt zu haben. Eben, aus sich selbst heraus! Was meint denn die Wissenschaft, was Leben sei? Ist Leben etwas, was wir fassen können, was sich uns als Mysterium nicht entzieht? Leben, das sich aus sich selbst heraus entfaltet und weiterentwickelt: Warum sollten wir es Gott nennen? Warum sollten wir es nicht Gott nennen?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gott, es gibt dich nicht!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gott, es gibt dich doch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aber wenn es dich doch gibt, könnten wir dich dann nicht doch verantwortlich machen für die Misere, in der wir stecken? Oder dich anrufen und um Hilfe bitten?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lieber Gott, wir können nicht!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Denn wir sind du, du bist wir. Unsere Hände sind deine Hände. Alles geschieht aus sich selbst heraus. Wir sind selbst verantwortlich. Auch wir geschehen aus uns selbst heraus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wie wunderbar! Da draussen ist niemand. Keine strafende Autorität. Und wie schrecklich zugleich! Wir sind allein. Du bist allein. Da ist nichts ausser dir.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Du bist nicht der mächtige Gott der Christen. Du bist das Leben, das getreten wird. Du bist die Liebe, die missachtet wird. Du bist das Verachtete, Verstossene, Ungewollte. Darum sehen wir dich nicht. Darum anerkennen wir dich nicht. Du bist das Leben. Das Unerklärliche. Das geschundene Leben.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Und ich bin du, und du bist mich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Samuel Widmer Nicolet aus Brasilien&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-117561241426414209?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/117561241426414209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=117561241426414209&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117561241426414209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/117561241426414209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2007/04/ein-neuer-start.html' title='ein neuer Start'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-116713093253464537</id><published>2006-12-26T14:26:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-12-26T14:32:12.970+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Sarah2</title><content type='html'>I miss her,&lt;br /&gt;And she still refuses to reply to my emails...&lt;br /&gt;I'm starting to doubt if she ever even gets them...&lt;br /&gt;I want her,&lt;br /&gt;I want her to be here, just like before. I want her here to be my friend. I want to talk to her. I need to talk to her.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know whether wishing will get me anywhere or not... alas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-116713093253464537?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/116713093253464537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=116713093253464537&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/116713093253464537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/116713093253464537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/12/sarah2.html' title='Sarah2'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-116045822424756933</id><published>2006-10-10T08:45:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-10-10T09:00:24.460+03:30</updated><title type='text'>For Sarah</title><content type='html'>I'd like to dedicate this post to my dear friend Sarah who I haven't heard from for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;Sarah!!! I've tried to email you but to tell you the truth I don't remember your exact email adress and all that I've written has bounced back.&lt;br /&gt;Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarln' help me out here!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-116045822424756933?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/116045822424756933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=116045822424756933&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/116045822424756933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/116045822424756933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/10/for-sarah.html' title='For Sarah'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115670977645093197</id><published>2006-08-27T23:44:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-27T23:46:16.640+03:30</updated><title type='text'>"Your ... messages have given me much pleasure. Thank you and good wishes."</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;BRIEFWECHSEL MIT KINDERN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Albert Einstein hat in seinem Leben mit sehr vielen Menschen Briefe gewechselt, deren Anzahl heute kaum abzuschätzen ist. Er korrespondierte mit Wissenschaftlern, gekrönten Häuptern, bedeutenden Staatsmännern, Schriftstellern und Künstlern. Nicht zuletzt hat Einstein mit unbekannten, wissenschaftlich interessierten und Hilfesuchenden Personen und auch mit Kindern unzählige Briefe gewechselt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Die Inhalte der Briefe von Kindern waren ganz unterschiedlich. Manche wollten nur von ihm wissen wie er aussieht, andere gratulierten ihm zum Geburtstag oder wollten ein Autogramm. Andere wiederum erhofften sich von ihm einen Rat. So zum Beispiel wenn sie Probleme in der Schule, mit Freunden oder ihren Eltern hatten. Einige gaben ihm praktische Ratschläge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Albert Einstein war immer gerne bereit diese Briefe zu beantworten.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1920, auf eine Frage nach seinem Aussehen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... Ich sage Dir daher, wie ich ausseh: Bleiches Gesicht, lange Haare und eine Art bescheidenes Bäuchlein. Dazu ein eckiger Gang und eine Zigarre im Maul, wenn er eine hat, und einen Federhalter in der Tasche oder in der Hand. Krumme Beine oder Warzen hat er aber nicht, ist also ganz hübsch, auch keine Haare an den Händen, wie oft hässliche Männer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1943 antwortete er einem kleinen Mädchen, das Probleme in der Schule mit der Mathematik hatte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"... Mach dir keine Sorgen wegen deiner Schwierigkeiten mit der Mathematik. Ich kann dir versichern, dass meine noch größer sind.&lt;br /&gt;Mit freundlichen Grüßen&lt;br /&gt;Professor Albert Einstein."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115670977645093197?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115670977645093197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115670977645093197&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115670977645093197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115670977645093197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/your-messages-have-given-me-much.html' title='&quot;Your ... messages have given me much pleasure. Thank you and good wishes.&quot;'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115665635112785578</id><published>2006-08-27T08:45:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-27T08:55:51.343+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Think</title><content type='html'>Nothing is more disgusting than the crowing about liberty by slaves, as most men are, and the flippant mistaking for freedom of some paper preamble like a Declaration of Independence, or the statute right to vote, by those who have never dared to think or to act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Ralph Waldo Emerson, Poet, essayist and transcendentalist (1803-1882)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115665635112785578?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115665635112785578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115665635112785578&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115665635112785578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115665635112785578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/think.html' title='Think'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115549864106229714</id><published>2006-08-13T22:59:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-13T23:32:19.023+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Titan - moon of Saturn</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/titan.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came across a little piece of writing on Titan, I learned that it has lakes which contain liquid fluids like methane or hydrocarbon. If they exist they will not be larger than a few kilometers as the first detailed photographs of the Cassini show us (fall/winter 2005). The picture above speaks to me and like many other natural phenomenons makes it hard for me to believe that there isn't more out there... I can't convince or rather fool myself into thinking that this entire universe was just put together by chance and for no reason.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115549864106229714?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115549864106229714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115549864106229714&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115549864106229714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115549864106229714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/titan-moon-of-saturn.html' title='Titan - moon of Saturn'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115545953975614369</id><published>2006-08-13T12:25:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-13T12:28:59.936+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Je länger man vor der Tür zögert,&lt;br /&gt;desto fremder wird man...&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Franz Kafka&lt;br /&gt;österr. Romanautor tschech. Herkunft, ('Der Prozess')&lt;br /&gt;1883 - 1924&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115545953975614369?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115545953975614369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115545953975614369&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115545953975614369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115545953975614369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/je-lnger-man-vor-der-tr-zgert-desto.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115530497195207008</id><published>2006-08-11T17:16:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-11T17:42:02.156+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Holmes</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;The following is from "Sherlock Homles - The adventure of the cardboard box" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What is the meaning of it, Watson?" said Holmes solemnly, as he laid down the paper. "What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkalbe. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as from an answer as ever."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115530497195207008?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115530497195207008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115530497195207008&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115530497195207008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115530497195207008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/holmes.html' title='Holmes'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115498394961419953</id><published>2006-08-08T00:19:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-08T00:22:29.730+03:30</updated><title type='text'>von den Kindern lernen!</title><content type='html'>Von Kindern können Eltern eine Menge lernen. Dass Trödeln Spaß macht, Hunde von unten betrachtet witzig aussehen und die meisten Mitmenschen richtig nett sind. Acht besonders hilfreiche Lektionen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinder sehen, genießen und freuen sich über Dinge, an denen wir Erwachsene eher achtlos vorübergehen: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pfützen. Die Zementmischmaschine im Nachbarhof. Fetter Regenwurm auf dem Zebrastreifen. Himmelhoher Baustellenkran. Die Erdbeerfußmatte vor der Tür des Gemüseladens. Die Tigerkatze auf dem Fensterbrett im fünften Stock. Roter Luftballon auf dem Weg zu den Wolken. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinder gehen mit offenen Augen durch die Welt - und zeigen sie uns neu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115498394961419953?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115498394961419953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115498394961419953&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115498394961419953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115498394961419953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/von-den-kindern-lernen.html' title='von den Kindern lernen!'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115498334139182347</id><published>2006-08-08T00:10:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-08T00:12:21.493+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Die Wiesheit des Tages</title><content type='html'>Den Tod fürchten die am wenigsten, deren Leben den meisten Wert hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immanuel Kant (1724-1804)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115498334139182347?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115498334139182347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115498334139182347&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115498334139182347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115498334139182347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/die-wiesheit-des-tages_08.html' title='Die Wiesheit des Tages'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115477257846587347</id><published>2006-08-05T13:37:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-05T13:54:30.343+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Inaugural Address</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;The following is from the inaugural address of JFK. It's sad how his pure views and his high and deep emotions are being ransacked today:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/kennedy.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;...we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115477257846587347?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115477257846587347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115477257846587347&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115477257846587347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115477257846587347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/inaugural-address.html' title='Inaugural Address'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115474731216082581</id><published>2006-08-05T06:37:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-08-05T06:38:32.463+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Fried ist besser als das Recht;&lt;br /&gt;Denn das Recht ist Friedens Knecht.&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115474731216082581?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115474731216082581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115474731216082581&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115474731216082581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115474731216082581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/08/fried-ist-besser-als-das-recht-denn.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115424395671466665</id><published>2006-07-30T10:39:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-30T10:49:16.866+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Zeit zu denken.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; Manchmal wundere ich mich einfach,wie verschieden die Menchen vor allem die Polotiker mit einem Thema umgehen.Die Medien sind so damit beschaftigt,das geschehen in den letzten Tagen mit Ihrern Woertern zu gestalten,dass es voellig nebensaechlich wirkt das es Menschen sind die auf beiden Seiten mit Ihrem leben Zahlen. Unbewust ueberlassen wir das Denken den anderen, wir sparen Zeit wo wir nur koennen ! &lt;br /&gt;Nehmen wir uns diese Zeit!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115424395671466665?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115424395671466665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115424395671466665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115424395671466665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115424395671466665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/zeit-zu-denken.html' title='Zeit zu denken.'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115418203747309489</id><published>2006-07-29T17:36:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-29T17:37:17.586+03:30</updated><title type='text'>lebanon, Irak heute ,gestern?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5619/3046/1600/2003-04-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5619/3046/400/2003-04-10.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115418203747309489?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115418203747309489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115418203747309489&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115418203747309489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115418203747309489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/lebanon-irak-heute-gestern_29.html' title='lebanon, Irak heute ,gestern?'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115409870450144284</id><published>2006-07-28T18:26:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-28T18:33:06.680+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Marvelous are your works</title><content type='html'>"O LORD, you have searched me, and known me.&lt;br /&gt;You know my downsitting and mine uprising,&lt;br /&gt;... you understand my thought afar off.&lt;br /&gt;You compass my path and my lying down,&lt;br /&gt;... and are acquainted with all my ways.&lt;br /&gt;For there is not a word in my tongue,&lt;br /&gt;... but, lo, O Lord, you know it altogether.&lt;br /&gt;You have beset me behind and before,&lt;br /&gt;... and laid your hand upon me.&lt;br /&gt;Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;&lt;br /&gt;... it is high, I cannot attain unto it.&lt;br /&gt;Where shall I go from your spirit?&lt;br /&gt;... or where shall I flee from your presence?&lt;br /&gt;If I ascend up into heaven, you are there:&lt;br /&gt;... if I make my bed in hell, behold, you are there.&lt;br /&gt;If I take the wings of the morning,&lt;br /&gt;... and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;&lt;br /&gt;Even there shall your hand lead me,&lt;br /&gt;... and your right hand shall hold me.&lt;br /&gt;If I say, 'Surely the darkness shall cover me';&lt;br /&gt;... even the night shall be light about me.&lt;br /&gt;Yea, the darkness hides not from you;&lt;br /&gt;... but the night shines as the day:&lt;br /&gt;... the darkness and the light are both alike to you.&lt;br /&gt;For you have hast possessed my reins&lt;br /&gt;... You have covered me in my mother's womb.&lt;br /&gt;I will praise you;&lt;br /&gt;... for I am fearfully and wonderfully made:&lt;br /&gt;Marvelous are your works;&lt;br /&gt;... and that my soul knows right well right well."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;- Holy Bible, Psalm 139:1-14&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115409870450144284?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115409870450144284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115409870450144284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115409870450144284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115409870450144284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/marvelous-are-your-works.html' title='Marvelous are your works'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115390506219288025</id><published>2006-07-26T12:32:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-26T12:41:02.423+03:30</updated><title type='text'>William Shakespeare  (1564-1616)</title><content type='html'>(McBeth)&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow &lt;br /&gt;Creeps in this petty pace from day to day &lt;br /&gt;To the last syllable of recorded time; &lt;br /&gt;And all our yesterdays have lighted fools &lt;br /&gt;the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! &lt;br /&gt;Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, &lt;br /&gt;That struts and frets his hour upon the stage &lt;br /&gt;And then is heard no more;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hamlet)&lt;br /&gt;To be, or not to be, that is the question:&lt;br /&gt;Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer&lt;br /&gt;The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,&lt;br /&gt;Or to take arms against a sea of troubles&lt;br /&gt;And by opposing end them?&lt;br /&gt;To die: to sleep;&lt;br /&gt;No more; and, by a sleep to say we end&lt;br /&gt;The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks&lt;br /&gt;That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation&lt;br /&gt;Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;&lt;br /&gt;To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;&lt;br /&gt;For in that sleep of death what dreams may come&lt;br /&gt;When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,&lt;br /&gt;Must give us pause.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115390506219288025?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115390506219288025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115390506219288025&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115390506219288025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115390506219288025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/william-shakespeare-1564-1616.html' title='William Shakespeare  (1564-1616)'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115373353207513795</id><published>2006-07-24T12:54:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-24T13:02:12.276+03:30</updated><title type='text'>How do you measure success?</title><content type='html'>Let us recount a meeting that took place at the Edgewater Beach Hotel in Chicago in 1923. Attending this meeting were nine of the richest men in the world at that time: (1) Charles Schwab, President of the world's largest independent steel company; (2) Samuel Insull, President of the world's largest utility company; (3) Howard Hopson, President of the largest gas firm; (4) Arthur Cutten, the greatest wheat speculator; (5) Richard Whitney, President of the New York Stock Exchange; (6) Albert Fall, member of the President's Cabinet; (7) Leon Frazier, President of the Bank of International Settlements; (8) Jessie Livermore, the greatest speculator in the Stock Market; and (9) Ivar Kreuger, head of the company with the most widely distributed securities in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Twenty-five years later, (1) Charles Schwab had died in bankruptcy, having lived on borrowed money for five years before his death. (2) Samuel Insull had died virtually penniless after spending some time as a fugitive from justice. (3) Howard Hopson was insane. (4) Arthur Cutten died overseas, broke. (5) Richard Whitney had spent time in Sing-Sing. (6) Albert Fall was released from prison so he could die at home. (7) Leon Fraizer, (8) Jessie Livermore, and (9) Ivar Kreuger each died by suicide. Measured by wealth and power these men achieved success, at least temporarily. Making a lot of money may be an acceptable goal, but money most assuredly does not guarantee a truly successful life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people think of fame and fortune when they measure success. However, at some point in life, most people come to realize that inner peace and soul-deep satisfaction come not from fame and fortune, but having lived a life based on integrity and noble character. How do you measure success?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And there may spring from you a nation who invite to goodness, and enjoin right conduct and forbid indecency. Such are they who are successful&lt;/i&gt; - Holy Quran 003.104&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115373353207513795?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115373353207513795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115373353207513795&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115373353207513795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115373353207513795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/how-do-you-measure-success.html' title='How do you measure success?'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115349536332572639</id><published>2006-07-21T18:44:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-21T18:52:44.256+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Q-and-A</title><content type='html'>One day, someone asked a politician: "Which is more valuable to man, the sun or the moon?"&lt;br /&gt;He replied: "The moon, of course, because we need more light at night."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115349536332572639?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115349536332572639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115349536332572639&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115349536332572639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115349536332572639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/q-and.html' title='Q-and-A'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115349440882200791</id><published>2006-07-21T18:26:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-21T18:43:25.886+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Declaration of Human Rights</title><content type='html'>Universal Declaration of Human Rights&lt;br /&gt;Adopted and proclaimed by General Assembly resolution 217 A (III) of 10 December 1948&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On December 10, 1948 the General Assembly of the United Nations adopted and proclaimed the Universal Declaration of Human Rights the full text of which is as follows. There is no obligation in agreeing with the following whereas many people in the world do not agree with one (or more) of the articles presented:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PREAMBLE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas disregard and contempt for human rights have resulted in barbarous acts which have outraged the conscience of mankind, and the advent of a world in which human beings shall enjoy freedom of speech and belief and freedom from fear and want has been proclaimed as the highest aspiration of the common people,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas it is essential, if man is not to be compelled to have recourse, as a last resort, to rebellion against tyranny and oppression, that human rights should be protected by the rule of law,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas it is essential to promote the development of friendly relations between nations,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas the peoples of the United Nations have in the Charter reaffirmed their faith in fundamental human rights, in the dignity and worth of the human person and in the equal rights of men and women and have determined to promote social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas Member States have pledged themselves to achieve, in co-operation with the United Nations, the promotion of universal respect for and observance of human rights and fundamental freedoms,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whereas a common understanding of these rights and freedoms is of the greatest importance for the full realization of this pledge,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, Therefore THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY proclaims THIS UNIVERSAL DECLARATION OF HUMAN RIGHTS as a common standard of achievement for all peoples and all nations, to the end that every individual and every organ of society, keeping this Declaration constantly in mind, shall strive by teaching and education to promote respect for these rights and freedoms and by progressive measures, national and international, to secure their universal and effective recognition and observance, both among the peoples of Member States themselves and among the peoples of territories under their jurisdiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 1.&lt;br /&gt;All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 2.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. Furthermore, no distinction shall be made on the basis of the political, jurisdictional or international status of the country or territory to which a person belongs, whether it be independent, trust, non-self-governing or under any other limitation of sovereignty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 3.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 4.&lt;br /&gt;No one shall be held in slavery or servitude; slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 5.&lt;br /&gt;No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 6.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to recognition everywhere as a person before the law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 7.&lt;br /&gt;All are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law. All are entitled to equal protection against any discrimination in violation of this Declaration and against any incitement to such discrimination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 8.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to an effective remedy by the competent national tribunals for acts violating the fundamental rights granted him by the constitution or by law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 9.&lt;br /&gt;No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 10.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal, in the determination of his rights and obligations and of any criminal charge against him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 11.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone charged with a penal offence has the right to be presumed innocent until proved guilty according to law in a public trial at which he has had all the guarantees necessary for his defence.&lt;br /&gt;(2) No one shall be held guilty of any penal offence on account of any act or omission which did not constitute a penal offence, under national or international law, at the time when it was committed. Nor shall a heavier penalty be imposed than the one that was applicable at the time the penal offence was committed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 12.&lt;br /&gt;No one shall be subjected to arbitrary interference with his privacy, family, home or correspondence, nor to attacks upon his honour and reputation. Everyone has the right to the protection of the law against such interference or attacks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 13.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each state.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 14.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution.&lt;br /&gt;(2) This right may not be invoked in the case of prosecutions genuinely arising from non-political crimes or from acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 15.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to a nationality.&lt;br /&gt;(2) No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his nationality nor denied the right to change his nationality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 16.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Men and women of full age, without any limitation due to race, nationality or religion, have the right to marry and to found a family. They are entitled to equal rights as to marriage, during marriage and at its dissolution.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Marriage shall be entered into only with the free and full consent of the intending spouses.&lt;br /&gt;(3) The family is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 17.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to own property alone as well as in association with others.&lt;br /&gt;(2) No one shall be arbitrarily deprived of his property.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 18.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion; this right includes freedom to change his religion or belief, and freedom, either alone or in community with others and in public or private, to manifest his religion or belief in teaching, practice, worship and observance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 19.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression; this right includes freedom to hold opinions without interference and to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 20.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to freedom of peaceful assembly and association.&lt;br /&gt;(2) No one may be compelled to belong to an association.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 21.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to take part in the government of his country, directly or through freely chosen representatives.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Everyone has the right of equal access to public service in his country.&lt;br /&gt;(3) The will of the people shall be the basis of the authority of government; this will shall be expressed in periodic and genuine elections which shall be by universal and equal suffrage and shall be held by secret vote or by equivalent free voting procedures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 22.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone, as a member of society, has the right to social security and is entitled to realization, through national effort and international co-operation and in accordance with the organization and resources of each State, of the economic, social and cultural rights indispensable for his dignity and the free development of his personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 23.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to work, to free choice of employment, to just and favourable conditions of work and to protection against unemployment.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Everyone, without any discrimination, has the right to equal pay for equal work.&lt;br /&gt;(3) Everyone who works has the right to just and favourable remuneration ensuring for himself and his family an existence worthy of human dignity, and supplemented, if necessary, by other means of social protection.&lt;br /&gt;(4) Everyone has the right to form and to join trade unions for the protection of his interests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 24.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has the right to rest and leisure, including reasonable limitation of working hours and periodic holidays with pay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 25.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and of his family, including food, clothing, housing and medical care and necessary social services, and the right to security in the event of unemployment, sickness, disability, widowhood, old age or other lack of livelihood in circumstances beyond his control.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Motherhood and childhood are entitled to special care and assistance. All children, whether born in or out of wedlock, shall enjoy the same social protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 26.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right to education. Education shall be free, at least in the elementary and fundamental stages. Elementary education shall be compulsory. Technical and professional education shall be made generally available and higher education shall be equally accessible to all on the basis of merit.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Education shall be directed to the full development of the human personality and to the strengthening of respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms. It shall promote understanding, tolerance and friendship among all nations, racial or religious groups, and shall further the activities of the United Nations for the maintenance of peace.&lt;br /&gt;(3) Parents have a prior right to choose the kind of education that shall be given to their children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 27.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has the right freely to participate in the cultural life of the community, to enjoy the arts and to share in scientific advancement and its benefits.&lt;br /&gt;(2) Everyone has the right to the protection of the moral and material interests resulting from any scientific, literary or artistic production of which he is the author.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 28.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is entitled to a social and international order in which the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration can be fully realized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 29.&lt;br /&gt;(1) Everyone has duties to the community in which alone the free and full development of his personality is possible.&lt;br /&gt;(2) In the exercise of his rights and freedoms, everyone shall be subject only to such limitations as are determined by law solely for the purpose of securing due recognition and respect for the rights and freedoms of others and of meeting the just requirements of morality, public order and the general welfare in a democratic society.&lt;br /&gt;(3) These rights and freedoms may in no case be exercised contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Article 30.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing in this Declaration may be interpreted as implying for any State, group or person any right to engage in any activity or to perform any act aimed at the destruction of any of the rights and freedoms set forth herein.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_______________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Die Allgemeine Erklärung der Menschenrechte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Resolution 217 A (III) vom 10.12.1948&lt;br /&gt;Präambel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Da die Anerkennung der angeborenen Würde und der gleichen und unveräußerlichen Rechte aller Mitglieder der Gemeinschaft der Menschen die Grundlage von Freiheit, Gerechtigkeit und Frieden in der Welt bildet,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da die Nichtanerkennung und Verachtung der Menschenrechte zu Akten der Barbarei geführt haben, die das Gewissen der Menschheit mit Empörung erfüllen, und da verkündet worden ist, daß einer Welt, in der die Menschen Rede- und Glaubensfreiheit und Freiheit von Furcht und Not genießen, das höchste Streben des Menschen gilt,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da es notwendig ist, die Menschenrechte durch die Herrschaft des Rechtes zu schützen, damit der Mensch nicht gezwungen wird, als letztes Mittel zum Aufstand gegen Tyrannei und Unterdrückung zu greifen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da es notwendig ist, die Entwicklung freundschaftlicher Beziehungen zwischen den Nationen zu fördern,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da die Völker der Vereinten Nationen in der Charta ihren Glauben an die grundlegenden Menschenrechte, an die Würde und den Wert der menschlichen Person und an die Gleichberechtigung von Mann und Frau erneut bekräftigt und beschlossen haben, den sozialen Forschritt und bessere Lebensbedingungen in größerer Freiheit zu fördern,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da die Mitgliedstaaten sich verpflichtet haben, in Zusammenarbeit mit den Vereinten Nationen auf die allgemeine Achtung und Einhaltung der Menschenrechte und Grundfreiheiten hinzuwirken,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;da ein gemeinsames Verständnis dieser Rechte und Freiheiten von größter Wichtigkeit für die volle Erfüllung dieser Verpflichtung ist,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;verkündet die Generalversammlung&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;diese Allgemeine Erklärung der Menschenrechte als das von allen Völkern und Nationen zu erreichende gemeinsame Ideal, damit jeder einzelne und alle Organe der Gesellschaft sich diese Erklärung stets gegenwärtig halten und sich bemühen, durch Unterricht und Erziehung die Achtung vor diesen Rechten und Freiheiten zu fördern und durch fortschreitende nationale und internationale Maßnahmen ihre allgemeine und tatsächliche Anerkennung und Einhaltung durch die Bevölkerung der Mitgliedstaaten selbst wie auch durch die Bevölkerung der ihrer Hoheitsgewalt unterstehenden Gebiete zu gewährleisten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 1&lt;br /&gt;Alle Menschen sind frei und gleich an Würde und Rechten geboren. Sie sind mit Vernunft und Gewissen begabt und sollen einander im Geist der Brüderlichkeit begegnen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 2&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat Anspruch auf die in dieser Erklärung verkündeten Rechte und Freiheiten ohne irgendeinen Unterschied, etwa nach Rasse, Hautfarbe, Geschlecht, Sprache, Religion, politischer oder sonstiger Überzeugung, nationaler oder sozialer Herkunft, Vermögen, Geburt oder sonstigem Stand.&lt;br /&gt;Des weiteren darf kein Unterschied gemacht werden auf Grund der politischen, rechtlichen oder internationalen Stellung des Landes oder Gebiets, dem eine Person angehört, gleichgültig ob dieses unabhängig ist, unter Treuhandschaft steht, keine Selbstregierung besitzt oder sonst in seiner Souveränität eingeschränkt ist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 3&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat das Recht auf Leben, Freiheit und Sicherheit der Person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 4&lt;br /&gt;Niemand darf in Sklaverei oder Leibeigenschaft gehalten werden; Sklaverei und Sklavenhandel sind in allen ihren Formen verboten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 5&lt;br /&gt;Niemand darf der Folter oder grausamer, unmenschlicher oder erniedrigender Behandlung oder Strafe unterworfen werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 6&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat das Recht, überall als rechtsfähig anerkannt zu werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 7&lt;br /&gt;Alle Menschen sind vor dem Gesetz gleich und haben ohne Unterschied Anspruch auf gleichen Schutz durch das Gesetz. Alle haben Anspruch auf gleichen Schutz gegen jede Diskriminierung, die gegen diese Erklärung verstößt, und gegen jede Aufhetzung zu einer derartigen Diskriminierung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 8&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat Anspruch auf einen wirksamen Rechtsbehelf bei den zuständigen innerstaatlichen Gerichten gegen Handlungen, durch die seine ihm nach der Verfassung oder nach dem Gesetz zustehenen Grundrechte verletzt werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 9&lt;br /&gt;Niemand darf willkürlich festgenommen, in Haft gehalten oder des Landes verwiesen werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 10&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat bei der Feststellung seiner Rechte und Pflichten sowie bei einer gegen ihn erhobenen strafrechtlichen Beschuldigung in voller Gleichheit Anspruch auf ein gerechtes und öffentliches Verfahren vor einem unabhängigen und unparteiischen Gericht.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 11&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder, der wegen einer strafbaren Handlung beschuldigt wird, hat das Recht, als unschuldig zu gelten, solange seine Schuld nicht in einem öffentlichen Verfahren, in dem er alle für seine Verteidigung notwendigen Garantien gehabt hat, gemäß dem Gesetz nachgewiesen ist.&lt;br /&gt;2. Niemand darf wegen einer Handlung oder Unterlassung verurteilt werden, die zur Zeit ihrer Begehung nach innerstaatlichem oder internationalem Recht nicht strafbar war. Ebenso darf keine schwerere Strafe als die zum Zeitpunkt der Begehung der strafbaren Handlung angedrohte Strafe verhängt werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 12&lt;br /&gt;Niemand darf willkürlichen Eingriffen in sein Privatleben, seine Familie, seine Wohnung und seinen Schriftverkehr oder Beeinträchtigungen seiner Ehre und seines Rufes ausgesetzt werden. Jeder hat Anspruch auf rechtlichen Schutz gegen solche Eingriffe oder Beeinträchtigungen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 13&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht, sich innerhalb eines Staates frei zu bewegen und seinen Aufenthaltsort frei zu wählen.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jeder hat das Recht, jedes Land, einschließlich seines eigenen, zu verlassen und in sein Land zurückzukehren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 14&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht, in anderen Ländern vor Verfolgung Asyl zu suchen und zu genießen.&lt;br /&gt;2. Dieses Recht kann nicht in Anspruch genommen werden im Falle einer Strafverfolgung, die tatsächlich auf Grund von Verbrechen nichtpolitischer Art oder auf Grund von Handlungen erfolgt, die gegen die Ziele und Grundsätze der Vereinten Nationen verstoßen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 15&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht auf eine Staatsangehörigkeit.&lt;br /&gt;2. Niemandem darf seine Staatsangehörigkeit willkürlich entzogen noch das Recht versagt werden, seine Staatsanghörigkeit zu wechseln.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 16&lt;br /&gt;1. Heiratsfähige Frauen und Männer haben ohne Beschränkung auf Grund der Rasse, der Staatsangehörigkeit oder der Religion das Recht zu heiraten und eine Familie zu gründen. Sie haben bei der Eheschließung, während der Ehe und bei deren Auflösung gleiche Rechte.&lt;br /&gt;2. Eine Ehe darf nur bei freier und uneingeschränkter Willenseinigung der künftigen Ehegatten geschlossen werden.&lt;br /&gt;3. Die Familie ist die natürliche Grundeinheit der Gesellschaft und hat Anspruch auf Schutz durch Gesellschaft und Staat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 17&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht, sowohl allein als auch in Gemeinschaft mit anderen Eigentum innezuhaben.&lt;br /&gt;2. Niemand darf willkürlich seines Eigentums beraubt werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 18&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat das Recht auf Gedanken-, Gewissens- und Religionsfreiheit; dieses Recht schließt die Freiheit ein, seine Religion oder Überzeugung zu wechseln, sowie die Freiheit, seine Religion oder Weltanschauung allein oder in Gemeinschaft mit anderen, öffentlich oder privat durch Lehre, Ausübung, Gottesdienst und Kulthandlungen zu bekennen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 19&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat das Recht auf Meinungsfreiheit und freie Meinungsäußerung; dieses Recht schließt die Freiheit ein, Meinungen ungehindert anzuhängen sowie über Medien jeder Art und ohne Rücksicht auf Grenzen Informationen und Gedankengut zu suchen, zu empfangen und zu verbreiten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 20&lt;br /&gt;1. Alle Menschen haben das Recht, sich friedlich zu versammeln und zu Vereinigungen zusammenzuschließen.&lt;br /&gt;2. Niemand darf gezwungen werden, einer Vereinigung anzugehören.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 21&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht, an der Gestaltung der öffentlichen Angelegenheiten seines Landes unmittelbar oder durch frei gewählte Vertreter mitzuwirken.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jeder hat das Recht auf gleichen Zugang zu öffentlichen Ämtern in seinem Lande.&lt;br /&gt;3. Der Wille des Volkes bildet die Grundlage für die Autorität der öffentlichen Gewalt; dieser Wille muß durch regelmäßige, unverfälschte, allgemeine und gleiche Wahlen mit geheimer Stimmabgabe oder in einem gleichwertigen freien Wahlverfahren zum Ausdruck kommen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 22&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat als Mitglied der Gesellschaft das Recht auf soziale Sicherheit und Anspruch darauf, durch innerstaatliche Maßnahmen und internationale Zusammenarbeit sowie unter Berücksichtigung der Organisation und der Mittel jedes Staates in den Genuß der wirtschaftlichen, sozialen und kulturellen Rechte zu gelangen, die für seine Würde und die freie Entwicklung seiner Persönlichkeit unentbehrlich sind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 23&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht auf Arbeit, auf freie Berufswahl, auf gerechte und befriedigende Arbeitsbedingungen sowie auf Schutz vor Arbeitslosigkeit.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jeder, ohne Unterschied, hat das Recht auf gleichen Lohn für gleiche Arbeit.&lt;br /&gt;3. Jeder, der arbeitet, hat das Recht auf gerechte und befriedigende Entlohnung, die ihm und seiner Familie eine der menschlichen Würde entsprechende Existenz sichert, gegebenenfalls ergänzt durch andere soziale Schutzmaßnahmen.&lt;br /&gt;4. Jeder hat das Recht, zum Schutz seiner Interessen Gewerkschaften zu bilden und solchen beizutreten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 24&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat das Recht auf Erholung und Freizeit und insbesondere auf eine vernünftige Begrenzung der Arbeitszeit und regelmäßigen bezahlten Urlaub.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 25&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht auf einen Lebensstandard, der seine und seiner Familie Gesundheit und Wohl gewährleistet, einschließlich Nahrung, Kleidung, Wohnung, ärztliche Versorgung und notwendige soziale Leistungen gewährleistet sowie das Recht auf Sicherheit im Falle von Arbeitslosigkeit, Krankheit, Invalidität oder Verwitwung, im Alter sowie bei anderweitigem Verlust seiner Unterhaltsmittel durch unverschuldete Umstände.&lt;br /&gt;2. Mütter und Kinder haben Anspruch auf besondere Fürsorge und Unterstützung. Alle Kinder, eheliche wie außereheliche, genießen den gleichen sozialen Schutz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 26&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht auf Bildung. Die Bildung ist unentgeltlich, zum mindesten der Grundschulunterricht und die grundlegende Bildung. Der Grundschulunterricht ist obligatorisch. Fach- und Berufsschulunterricht müssen allgemein verfügbar gemacht werden, und der Hochschulunterricht muß allen gleichermaßen entsprechend ihren Fähigkeiten offenstehen.&lt;br /&gt;2. Die Bildung muß auf die volle Entfaltung der menschlichen Persönlichkeit und auf die Stärkung der Achtung vor den Menschenrechten und Grundfreiheiten gerichtet sein. Sie muß zu Verständnis, Toleranz und Freundschaft zwischen allen Nationen und allen rassischen oder religiösen Gruppen beitragen und der Tätigkeit der Vereinten Nationen für die Wahrung des Friedens förderlich sein.&lt;br /&gt;3. Die Eltern haben ein vorrangiges Recht, die Art der Bildung zu wählen, die ihren Kindern zuteil werden soll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 27&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat das Recht, am kulturellen Leben der Gemeinschaft frei teilzunehmen, sich an den Künsten zu erfreuen und am wissenschaftlichen Fortschritt und dessen Errungenschaften teilzuhaben.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jeder hat das Recht auf Schutz der geistigen und materiellen Interessen, die ihm als Urheber von Werken der Wissenschaft, Literatur oder Kunst erwachsen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 28&lt;br /&gt;Jeder hat Anspruch auf eine soziale und internationale Ordnung, in der die in dieser Erklärung verkündeten Rechte und Freiheiten voll verwirklicht werden können.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 29&lt;br /&gt;1. Jeder hat Pflichten gegenüber der Gemeinschaft, in der allein die freie und volle Entfaltung seiner Persönlichkeit möglich ist.&lt;br /&gt;2. Jeder ist bei der Ausübung seiner Rechte und Freiheiten nur den Beschränkungen unterworfen, die das Gesetz ausschließlich zu dem Zweck vorsieht, die Anerkennung und Achtung der Rechte und Freiheiten anderer zu sichern und den gerechten Anforderungen der Moral, der öffentlichen Ordnung und des allgemeinen Wohles in einer demokratischen Gesellschaft zu genügen.&lt;br /&gt;3. Diese Rechte und Freiheiten dürfen in keinem Fall im Widerspruch zu den Zielen und Grundsätzen der Vereinten Nationen ausgeübt werden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Artikel 30&lt;br /&gt;Keine Bestimmung dieser Erklärung darf dahin ausgelegt werden, daß sie für einen Staat, eine Gruppe oder eine Person irgendein Recht begründet, eine Tätigkeit auszuüben oder eine Handlung zu begehen, welche die Beseitigung der in dieser Erklärung verkündeten Rechte und Freiheiten zum Ziel hat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115349440882200791?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115349440882200791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115349440882200791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115349440882200791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115349440882200791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/declaration-of-human-rights.html' title='Declaration of Human Rights'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115340773879391284</id><published>2006-07-20T17:14:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-20T18:32:19.233+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Dolly (1996-2003)</title><content type='html'>Sheep rarely make headline news. But Dolly, of course, was no ordinary sheep. Her origins were unique. She was a copy, a genetic replica of a sheep that had already lived. In a bizarre twist of familial relations, her mother was also her elder, identical twin. Her birth seemed like a vindication of the impossible. Three scientists in Scotland had side-stepped the conventional rules of biology to create the first ever clone of an adult mammal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dolly was born on 5 July 1996 at the Roslin Institute in Edinburgh. She appeared normal and healthy and she bore no outward signs to betray her unorthodox beginning. Initially, her existence was kept secret until genetic tests could prove that she was, indeed, a clone. With her identity confirmed, Dolly went public on 23 February 1997. The announcement caused a sensation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before Dolly the received biological wisdom ran something like this: Life began when sperm met egg at conception. In the early stages of an embryo's development, all of its cells, the so-called stem cells, remain indistinguishable from one another. As yet, their fate is undecided. But as an embryo continues to grow, cells start to lose their autonomy as they take on concrete identities – to become muscle cells, skin cells or bone cells, for example. Once the fate of these cells is decided, there is no going back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That, at least, was the traditional view. But Dolly's birth was year zero for a new biological era. Clichés were dusted down and text-books hastily re-written. Dolly's creators had worked out a way of persuading an adult cell to regain its youthful independence. They had taken a single cell from an adult sheep (in this case, an udder cell from a six-year-old ewe) and, with some biological engineering, 'reprogrammed' it to become the first cell in the life of Dolly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But in January 2002 a dark cloud appeared on the horizon when vets discovered that Dolly was suffering from arthritis in the hip and knee of her left hind leg. While arthritis is not unknown in five-year-old sheep, the revelation caused alarm. It hinted that Dolly might be suffering from premature ageing, a much mooted side effect of cloning from adult cells. Suspicions seemed to be confirmed when, a year later, she was diagnosed with a progressive lung disease that effectively ended her life. She was put to sleep on 14 February 2003.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At six years of age Dolly died relatively young. Sheep can live for up to 14 years. But, in truth, it's impossible to say whether her death had anything to do with her being a clone. A post-mortem revealed that she had been suffering from a virus-induced lung tumour, but the condition is not uncommon in sheep of her age. A single isolated death provides insufficient information from which to draw definitive answers. Dolly's own tissues are now on permanent display in the National Museum of Scotland. But a visit isn't necessary to appreciate her gift to the world. The sheep is gone, but her influence is already cemented into the fabric of our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Taken from "The heaven sent sheep" by Dr Martin Brookes, Channel 4, May 2003&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115340773879391284?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115340773879391284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115340773879391284&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115340773879391284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115340773879391284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/dolly-1996-2003.html' title='Dolly (1996-2003)'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115305176962877494</id><published>2006-07-16T15:27:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-16T15:39:29.766+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A lot of times you don't have to do the talking...&lt;br /&gt;The following line was something that made me think:&lt;br /&gt;"Come into my arms, let them tell you what I want to say"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115305176962877494?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115305176962877494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115305176962877494&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115305176962877494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115305176962877494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/lot-of-times-you-dont-have-to-do.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115305042886970459</id><published>2006-07-16T15:04:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-16T15:17:09.046+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Wealth</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/wealth.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115305042886970459?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115305042886970459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115305042886970459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115305042886970459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115305042886970459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/wealth.html' title='Wealth'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115270809114006857</id><published>2006-07-12T15:56:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-12T16:15:03.880+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Desert Places</title><content type='html'>Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast &lt;br /&gt;In a field I looked into going past, &lt;br /&gt;And the ground almost covered smooth in snow, &lt;br /&gt;But a few weeds and stubble showing last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The woods around it have it—it is theirs. &lt;br /&gt;All animals are smothered in their lairs. &lt;br /&gt;I am too absent-spirited to count; &lt;br /&gt;The loneliness includes me unawares. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lonely as it is that loneliness &lt;br /&gt;Will be more lonely ere it be less— &lt;br /&gt;A blanker whiteness of benighted snow &lt;br /&gt;With no expression, nothing to express. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They cannot scare me with their empty spaces &lt;br /&gt;Between stars—on stars where no human race is. &lt;br /&gt;I have it in me so much nearer home &lt;br /&gt;To scare myself with my own desert places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Robert Frost&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115270809114006857?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115270809114006857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115270809114006857&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115270809114006857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115270809114006857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/desert-places.html' title='Desert Places'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115236030572372572</id><published>2006-07-08T15:08:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-08T16:06:58.630+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Nail</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I'm not quite sure if I agree with the following or not, but I think it worthy of consideration:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No! Go away! You're mean!" Cried the little girl.&lt;br /&gt;The loving father got there just in time to stop his son from hurting the girl who he played with in the sandbox. It had not been the first time that his son had caused other kids to cry.&lt;br /&gt;He then took the hands of his son and guided him to the old barn. "You shouldn't be mean to others son. Aren't you ashamed of being mean?"&lt;br /&gt;The boy looked at his dad's serious eyes and said: "I'm sorry dady!"&lt;br /&gt;- "I forgive you now, but I want to teach you something import today that I want you to remember." He said. "Look, what is this?"&lt;br /&gt;He then held out a nail in front of the boy's face.&lt;br /&gt;- "Well, its a nail pop!"&lt;br /&gt;- "Good. Now watch" Then the man used a hammer to fix the nail into the wooden wall of the barn. "Now son, take a look and pay attention." And after the boy had looked at the nail in the wall, the man used the back of the head of the hammer to take the nail out. "What do you see now?" asked the man.&lt;br /&gt;- "Well, I see that you have taken the nail out after you put it in! But what for?"&lt;br /&gt;- "What do you notice about the wall?"&lt;br /&gt;- "I notice that its not like it was before. Even though you've taken out the nail, there is still a hole in the wall."&lt;br /&gt;The man sighed. "Thats what I wanted to show you son. You see, every time you hurt someone's feelings deeply its like punching a nail in their heart, and everytime you say that you're sorry, its like taking the nail out. Even though you can remove the nail, you'll never be able to fully fix the wall and the hole might last forever."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115236030572372572?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115236030572372572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115236030572372572&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115236030572372572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115236030572372572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/nail.html' title='Nail'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115235861381792933</id><published>2006-07-08T15:02:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-08T15:07:05.063+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The way you admire</title><content type='html'>Oh God, this privilege is enough for me to be your servant and this pride is enough for me that you are my lord. You are the way I admire, make me the way you admire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115235861381792933?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115235861381792933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115235861381792933&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115235861381792933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115235861381792933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/way-you-admire.html' title='The way you admire'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115233707955461208</id><published>2006-07-08T09:07:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-08T09:08:04.990+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Was Kinder von Gott erwarten !</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5619/3046/1600/gottesbild_3.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5619/3046/400/gottesbild_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115233707955461208?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115233707955461208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115233707955461208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115233707955461208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115233707955461208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/was-kinder-von-gott-erwart_115233707955461208.html' title='Was Kinder von Gott erwarten !'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115233681778379431</id><published>2006-07-08T09:03:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-08T09:03:37.876+03:30</updated><title type='text'>kinder,Leute</title><content type='html'>Die Stimme eines Dreijährigen ist lauter als 50 Erwachsene in einem vollen Restaurant&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115233681778379431?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115233681778379431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115233681778379431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115233681778379431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115233681778379431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/kinderleute_08.html' title='kinder,Leute'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115188096819654871</id><published>2006-07-03T01:59:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-03T02:26:08.913+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Complaining Bystanders</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Sometimes, somepeople, will constantly complain. It is our choice to either consider or politely neglect what they have to say:&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day (before cars were invented!), a man and his son went on a journey. The man preferred to let his son ride the donkey while he walked. Along the way, they passed some travelers.&lt;br /&gt;"Look at that healthy young boy on the donkey! That's today's youth for you! They have no respect for their elders. He rides while his poor father walks!"&lt;br /&gt;The words made the lad feel very ashamed, and he insisted that his father ride while he walked. So his father climbed on the donkey and the boy walked by his side. Soon they met another group.&lt;br /&gt;"Well, look at that! Poor little boy has to walk while his father rides the donkey. What a dishonorable situation!" they exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;Both the man and his son felt uncomfortable and to avoid these comments with a swift jump, the son hopped on the back of the donkey next to his father.&lt;br /&gt;Soon they met another group, who said, "Look at that poor donkey! He has to carry the weight of two people. Don't they have any consideration for the poor animal?"&lt;br /&gt;The man then told his son, "The best thing is for both of us to walk. Then no one can complain."&lt;br /&gt;So they continued their journey on foot and again met some travelers who laughed and said: "Just look at those fools! Both of them are walking under this hot sun and neither of them is riding the donkey!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115188096819654871?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115188096819654871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115188096819654871&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115188096819654871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115188096819654871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/complaining-bystanders.html' title='Complaining Bystanders'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115185255694173863</id><published>2006-07-02T18:11:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-07-02T18:32:37.160+03:30</updated><title type='text'>One Day In The Desert</title><content type='html'>One day in the desert, while meditating in a mountain cave, he was struck by a revelation that changed his life and the world. Terrified by the force of the experience, he began to recite words that came to him, words he said were from God. These messages would continue throughout the rest of his life. Unable to write them, he would repeat them to his growing band of followers until they became part of their collective memory. Slowly these revelations began to form the book we now know as the Qur'an (or Koran). While people were shocked by these claims, "they acquired credibility because of the very nature of the words spoken," says M. Cherif Bassiouni, professor of law at DePaul University. How could an illiterate man make up language of such poetry and wisdom? His name was Muhammad, and in the next 23 years he would bring peace to the warring pagan tribes of Arabia and establish the new religion of Islam, which today has 1.2 billion followers from across the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115185255694173863?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115185255694173863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115185255694173863&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115185255694173863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115185255694173863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/07/one-day-in-desert.html' title='One Day In The Desert'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115166912767609127</id><published>2006-06-30T15:34:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-30T15:35:27.776+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title."&lt;br /&gt;- Virginia Woolf&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115166912767609127?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115166912767609127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115166912767609127&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115166912767609127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115166912767609127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/each-has-his-past-shut-in-him-like_30.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115141417846760211</id><published>2006-06-27T16:21:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-27T16:54:13.660+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Dear God...</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/lettertogod.JPG"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115141417846760211?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115141417846760211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115141417846760211&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115141417846760211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115141417846760211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/dear-god.html' title='Dear God...'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115133036674249110</id><published>2006-06-26T17:24:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-26T17:29:26.903+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Tiger Powder</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Sometimes we have our minds so locked and closed on a subject that we fail to realize right from wrong. Its always good to keep an open mind and try to understand multiple facets of an issue. I'd like to share a good little story that has always reminded me to look at things from different aspects:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day a man was sprinkling some strange powderlike substance on the ground around his house. &lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing?" asked a neighbour.&lt;br /&gt;"With the powder, I want to keep the tigers away!" replid the man.&lt;br /&gt;- "But there are no tigers within hundreds of miles!"&lt;br /&gt;- "Effective, isn't it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115133036674249110?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115133036674249110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115133036674249110&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115133036674249110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115133036674249110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/tiger-powder.html' title='Tiger Powder'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115124537820217742</id><published>2006-06-25T17:23:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-25T17:52:59.076+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The Road not Taken</title><content type='html'>Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, &lt;br /&gt;And sorry I could not travel both &lt;br /&gt;And be one traveller, long I stood &lt;br /&gt;And looked down one as far as I could &lt;br /&gt;To where it bent in the undergrowth; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then took the other, as just as fair, &lt;br /&gt;And having perhaps the better claim, &lt;br /&gt;Because it was grassy and wanted wear; &lt;br /&gt;Though as for that the passing there &lt;br /&gt;Had worn them really about the same, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And both that morning equally lay &lt;br /&gt;In leaves no step had trodden black. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, I kept the first for another day! &lt;br /&gt;Yet knowing how way leads on to way, &lt;br /&gt;I doubted if I should ever come back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall be telling this with a sigh &lt;br /&gt;Somewhere ages and ages hence: &lt;br /&gt;Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— &lt;br /&gt;I took the one less traveled by, &lt;br /&gt;And that has made all the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Robert Frost&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115124537820217742?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115124537820217742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115124537820217742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115124537820217742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115124537820217742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/road-not-taken.html' title='The Road not Taken'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115115983118933138</id><published>2006-06-24T18:05:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-24T18:09:53.340+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Cure</title><content type='html'>The king of the jungle had fallen sick and was very ill. All the animals of the jungle had gathered around and had come to pay a visit to the dying lion. All had come see the king, except for the fox.&lt;br /&gt;The deceitful wolf stepped up and started to flatteringly backbite: "Your highness, everyone is present except for the disrespectful fox. I'm sorry to say that it seems as though he has no regard for your majesty."&lt;br /&gt;"Remind me to punish him." replied the lion after some thought.&lt;br /&gt;Just then the fox entered.&lt;br /&gt;"Where have you been!?" shouted the lion.&lt;br /&gt;"Good day your highness," said the fox, "I shall explain. While everyone had gathered here to pay you a visit, I took the time to search for the cure of your illness!" he continued.&lt;br /&gt;The lion was thrilled. "You shall be rewarded handsomely," he exclaimed, "Just name the cure, and I shall not hesitate to obtain it for even a second."&lt;br /&gt;The fox kept a straight face and after glancing at the wolf for a moment said: "Your only cure and hope for survival is to eat the heart of a living wolf."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115115983118933138?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115115983118933138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115115983118933138&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115115983118933138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115115983118933138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/cure.html' title='Cure'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115083407961380692</id><published>2006-06-20T23:37:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-20T23:37:59.950+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Die Presse</title><content type='html'>Der Deutschlandfunk macht in Zusammenarbeit mit der Menschenrechtsorganisation "Reporter ohne Grenzen" regelmäßig auf die Schicksale bedrohter, verfolgter und ermordeter Journalisten aufmerksam. Der Name der Rubrik "Artikel Neunzehn" bezieht sich auf die Genfer Menschenrechtskonvention, die alle Mitgliedsstaaten der UNO unterzeichnet haben. In Artikel 19 garantieren alle Unterzeichnerstaaten die allgemeine Meinungs- und Informationsfreiheit. Und doch ist in etwa 150 Ländern die Pressefreiheit in Gefahr oder überhaupt nicht gewährleistet, werden dort mißliebige Journalisten und Schriftsteller bedroht, inhaftiert oder umgebracht. Rund 600 Journalisten wurden in den vergangenen zehn Jahren wegen ihrer Veröffentlichungen oder in Ausübung ihres Berufes ermordet. Weltweit sind nach Erkenntnissen der Organisation "Reporter ohne Grenzen" ständig rund 100 Journalisten in Haft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115083407961380692?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115083407961380692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115083407961380692&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115083407961380692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115083407961380692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/die-presse.html' title='Die Presse'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115083367499906590</id><published>2006-06-20T23:30:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-20T23:31:15.140+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>typisch .... aus einem Pfarrhaus zu stammen, wie ... Bodmer, Gottsched, Gellert, Lessing, Wieland, Schubart, Claudius, Lichtenberg, Bürger, Hölty, Lenz, Jean Paul, August Wilhelm und Friedrich Schlegel. Eine Liste ähnlich bedeutender Autoren, die zwischen 1730 und 1800 tätig, aber keine Pfarrersöhne waren, fiele kürzer aus. Aber auch sie - darunter Klopstock, Goethe, Schiller, Hölderlin - waren alle protestantisch, also durch die von der evangelischen Kirche beaufsichtigten Schulen und Lektüren hindurchgegangen. [...] In Deutschland sind die Dichter (um 1800) fromm im doppelten Sinne: Sie reden gerne - wie Klopstock, Hölderlin, Novalis - in der Sprache der christlichen Mythologie von letzten Wahrheiten, für die eigentlich Theologen zuständig wären, und sie fügen sich, so gut es geht, fromm den Forderungen von Amt, Gemeinde und Familie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115083367499906590?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115083367499906590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115083367499906590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115083367499906590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115083367499906590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/typisch.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115079250239182243</id><published>2006-06-20T11:49:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-20T15:09:37.056+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The Pilgrimage of Malcom X to Mecca</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;When Malcolm X was in Makkah, he wrote a letter to his loyal assistants in Harlem... from his heart:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/makkah.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font size=1&gt;&lt;i&gt;View of the Ka'ba in Mecca, surrounded by pilgrims&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Pilgrimage To Makkah (Mecca) &lt;br /&gt;By: (Al-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz) Malcolm X&lt;br /&gt;Makkah, Hijaz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never have I witnessed such sincere hospitality and overwhelming spirit of true brotherhood as is practiced by people of all colors and races here in this ancient Holy Land, the home of Abraham, Muhammad and all the other Prophets of the Holy Scriptures. For the past week, I have been utterly speechless and spellbound by the graciousness I see displayed all around me by people of all colors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been blessed to visit the Holy City of Makkah, I have made my seven circuits around the Ka`bah, led by a young Mutawaf named Muhammad, I drank water from the well of the Zamzam. I ran seven times back and forth between the hills of Mt. Al-Safa and Al-Marwah. I have prayed in the ancient city of Mina, and I have prayed on Mt.`Arafat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tens of thousands of pilgrims, from all over the world. They were of all colors, from blue-eyed blondes to black-skinned Africans. But we were all participating in the same ritual, displaying a spirit of unity and brotherhood that my experiences in America had led me to believe never could exist between the white and non-white. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;America needs to understand Islam, because this is the one religion that erases from its society the race problem. Throughout my travels in the Muslim world, I have met, talked to, and even eaten with people who in America would have been considered white - but the white attitude was removed from their minds by the religion of Islam. I have never before seen sincere and true brotherhood practiced by all colors together, irrespective of their color. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may be shocked by these words coming from me. But on this pilgrimage, what I have seen, and experienced, has forced me to rearrange much of my thought-patterns previously held, and to toss aside some of my previous conclusions. This was not too difficult for me. Despite my firm convictions, I have always been a man who tries to face facts, and to accept the reality of life as new experience and new knowledge unfolds it. I have always kept an open mind, which is necessary to the flexibility that must go hand in hand with every form of intelligent search for truth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the past eleven days here in the Muslim world, I have eaten from the same plate, drunk from the same glass, and slept on the same rug - while praying to the same God - with fellow Muslims, whose eyes were the bluest of blue, whose hair was the blondest of blond, and whose skin was the whitest of white. And in the words and in the deeds of the white Muslims, I felt the same sincerity that I felt among the black African Muslims of Nigeria, Sudan and Ghana. We were truly all the same (brothers)- because their belief in one God had removed the white from their minds, the white from their behavior, and the white from their attitude. I could see from this, that perhaps if white Americans could accept the Oneness of God, then perhaps, too, they could accept in reality the Oneness of Man - and cease to measure, and hinder, and harm others in terms of their "differences" in color. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With racism plaguing America like an incurable cancer, the so-called "Christian" white American heart should be more receptive to a proven solution to such a destructive problem. Perhaps it could be in time to save America from imminent disaster - the same destruction brought upon Germany by racism that eventually destroyed the Germans themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each hour here in the Holy Land enables me to have greater spiritual insights into what is happening in America between black and white. The American Negro never can be blamed for his racial animosities - he is only reacting to four hundred years of the conscious racism of the American whites. But as racism leads America up the suicide path, I do believe, from the experiences that I have had with them, that the whites of the younger generation, in the colleges and universities, will see the handwriting on the walls and many of them will turn to the spiritual path of truth - the only way left to America to ward off the disaster that racism inevitably must lead to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Never have I been so highly honored. Never have I been made to feel more humble and unworthy. Who would believe the blessings that have been heaped upon an American Negro? A few nights ago, a man who would be called in America a white man, a United Nations diplomat, an ambassador, a companion of kings, gave me his hotel suite, his bed. Never would I have even thought of dreaming that I would ever be a recipient of such honors - honors that in America would be bestowed upon a King - not a Negro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All praise is due to Allah, the Lord of all the Worlds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely, &lt;br /&gt;Al-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz (Malcolm X)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MALCOLM X with assistance from Alex Haley, the author of ROOTS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115079250239182243?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115079250239182243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115079250239182243&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115079250239182243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115079250239182243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/pilgrimage-of-malcom-x-to-mecca.html' title='The Pilgrimage of Malcom X to Mecca'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115063159981319896</id><published>2006-06-18T15:22:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-18T15:23:19.876+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Two Elements of Faith</title><content type='html'>Faith is two elements. &lt;br /&gt;To do what God approves, and to approve what God does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115063159981319896?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115063159981319896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115063159981319896&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115063159981319896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115063159981319896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/two-elements-of-faith.html' title='Two Elements of Faith'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115063141634435519</id><published>2006-06-18T15:15:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-18T15:20:16.496+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Zolnoon Said:</title><content type='html'>"Oh God, if I have any riches of this world I'll leave it for stangers, and if I have any riches in the afterlife, I'll devote it to the pious. The thought of you is enough in this world, and the sight of you enough in the hereafter."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115063141634435519?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115063141634435519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115063141634435519&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115063141634435519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115063141634435519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/zolnoon-said.html' title='Zolnoon Said:'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115036490421115832</id><published>2006-06-15T13:13:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-15T13:18:24.370+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Ture Love</title><content type='html'>The man gazed at the beautiful and virtuous woman and claimed: "Oh, your love has stolen my heart away!"&lt;br /&gt;She repied: "Why don't you consider loving my sister for she is more beautiful and delightful than I am?"&lt;br /&gt;He said: "Where is your sister so I can observe her..?"&lt;br /&gt;The woman cried: "Begone you liar! For if your love for me was true, you would have never attended another."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115036490421115832?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115036490421115832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115036490421115832&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115036490421115832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115036490421115832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/ture-love.html' title='Ture Love'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115036288650646865</id><published>2006-06-15T12:37:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-15T12:44:46.693+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Seat of Leadership</title><content type='html'>One day, when the court clown was strolling around the palace, he found that the king’s throne was empty. Quickly he pounced onto the king’s place and smiled. When the court slaves saw that the clown was sitting on the throne, they beat and whipped him and threw him off. The clown started crying.&lt;br /&gt;Just then the king came along and saw the situation.&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you crying?" asked the king.&lt;br /&gt;"I am not crying at my own condition, but I am weeping for you!" sobbed the clown. "I sat on the seat of leadership wrongfully for a few seconds and received such a beating and endured such misfortune; but you have been sitting on this throne all your life! What troubles you must receive, yet you still do not fear the consequence!?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115036288650646865?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115036288650646865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115036288650646865&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115036288650646865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115036288650646865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/seat-of-leadership.html' title='Seat of Leadership'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115018874870218510</id><published>2006-06-13T12:17:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-18T15:29:25.186+03:30</updated><title type='text'>A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons in History</title><content type='html'>In 1978, when Michael Hart's controversial book The 100 was first published, critics objected that Hart had the nerve not only to select who he thought were the most influential people in history, but also to rank them according to their importance. Needless to say, the critics were wrong, and to date over 60,000 copies of the book have sold. Hart believed that in the intervening years the influence of some of his original selections had grown or lessened and that new names loomed large on the world stage. Thus, the publication of this revised and updated edition of The 100. As before, Hart's yardstick is influence: not the greatest people, but the most influential, the people who swayed the destinies of millions of human beings, determined the rise and fall of civilizations, changed the course of history. With incisive biographies, Hart describes their careers and contributions. Explaining his ratings, he presents a new perspective on history, gathering together the vital facts about the world's greatest leaders, inventors, writers, philosophers, explorers, artists, and innovators - from Asoka to Zoroaster. Most of the biographies are accompanied by photographs or sketches.&lt;br /&gt;Hart's selections may be surprising to some, because from the eyes of a christian researcher, not Jesus (Peace be upon him), but Muhammad (Peace be upon him), is designated as the most influential person in human history. The writer's arguments may challenge and perhaps convince readers, but whether or not they agree with him, his manner of ranking is both informative and entertaining. The 100, revised and updated, is truly a monumental work. It promises to be just as thought-provoking, and just as successful as its predecessor - a perfect addition to any history or philosophy reference section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mind.net/dlmark/hundred.htm"&gt;The list and links&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://thetruereligion.org/modules/wfsection/article.php?articleid=104"&gt;Hart's thoughts on Muhammad (Peace be upon him)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115018874870218510?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115018874870218510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115018874870218510&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115018874870218510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115018874870218510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/ranking-of-most-influential-persons-in.html' title='A Ranking of the Most Influential Persons in History'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-115002615201203562</id><published>2006-06-11T15:06:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-11T15:12:32.460+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Talk to me!</title><content type='html'>With a firm voice the man said: "Oh God! Oh Almighty! Talk to me."&lt;br /&gt;A jaybird sang a beautiful song, but the man did not hear.&lt;br /&gt;"Talk to me!" he insisted.&lt;br /&gt;A thunder bolt roared and broke the silence of the sky. Once again, he did not hear.&lt;br /&gt;The man looked around and cried: "Oh God! I would like to see you."&lt;br /&gt;A child was born and life began, but once more, the man did not understand.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh Lord! Touch me in a way so that I can feel your presence." He finally moaned.&lt;br /&gt;Then Almighty God reached out His hand from the sky and touched the man on the shoulder.&lt;br /&gt;But the man disappointedly grumbled and with a sway of his hand drew the butterfly away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-115002615201203562?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/115002615201203562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=115002615201203562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115002615201203562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/115002615201203562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/talk-to-me.html' title='Talk to me!'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114994743860047313</id><published>2006-06-10T17:19:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-10T17:20:38.786+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You can’t keep trouble from coming, but you needn’t give it a chair to sit on.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114994743860047313?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114994743860047313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114994743860047313&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114994743860047313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114994743860047313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/you-cant-keep-trouble-from_114994743860047313.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114985914756792155</id><published>2006-06-09T16:31:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-18T15:25:36.653+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Islamic Justice</title><content type='html'>The equality which obtains in Islamic law courts should be taken as a world model. Immediate verdict and execution of sentence is recognised by modern jurists as one of the greatest advantages of Islamic law courts. It saves a great deal of time and expense, for plaintiff, defendant and judge alike. Dr. Gustave Le Bon relates his own personal observation from a court he attended in Marrakesh in Morocco. Plaintiff and defendant with their lawyers and papers entered the court. The judge entered. All rose. Straightaway each side presented its case. The judge summed up. The verdict was given. Sentence was pronounced and immediately executed, to the great benefit of all concerned. "If only Western courts with their long delays would learn this art of dispensing justice fairly, swiftly and economically!" he comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When litigants are all secure in the knowledge that the laws by which their case will be judged are based on eternal principles revealed by God Himself, and that therefore the powerful cannot swing judgment in their own favour. arid when the judge has principles of judgment to go on which enable him with a detached impartiality to seek his guidance from the law of God in total freedom from any emotional bias; the law is observed and respected, injustices are cut out, certainty and security reign in society and bring trust and confidence in their train.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Islam does not aim to level men down, but to level them up to an equality on the highest level, where true affection and the real love of one's fellowmen call the tune - a unity of heart based on a unity of faith in the one God, Who is Maker of all and Judge of all, and Who makes no distinctions save those of obedience between one of His creatures and another.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114985914756792155?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114985914756792155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114985914756792155&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114985914756792155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114985914756792155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/islamic-justice.html' title='Islamic Justice'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114958306289494404</id><published>2006-06-06T11:53:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-06T12:11:37.510+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Attitude</title><content type='html'>The rookie was exhausted after he drove the big 18-wheeler for a couple of hours. He pulled over and asked his trainer to kindly take over.&lt;br /&gt;The trainer drove for the rest of the day with no trouble at all as he had done this for many years. The young man was surprised and asked his trainer how he could drive for hours and not get tired.&lt;br /&gt;The trainer replied: "What do you do in the morning just before you leave your house?" &lt;br /&gt;- "I kiss my wife good-bye and tell her I am going to work."&lt;br /&gt;- "well man, that is the problem!"&lt;br /&gt;- "What do you mean, problem?"&lt;br /&gt;The trainer smiled and replied: "When I leave in the morning, I kiss my wife good-bye, but I don't tell her I am going to work! I tell her I am going for a drive in the country! It is all a matter of attitude."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114958306289494404?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114958306289494404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114958306289494404&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114958306289494404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114958306289494404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/attitude.html' title='Attitude'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114953345561460769</id><published>2006-06-05T22:18:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-05T22:20:55.833+03:30</updated><title type='text'>It could be worse!</title><content type='html'>1- If you find yourself stuck in traffic, don't despair. There are people in this world to whom driving is an unheard of privilege. &lt;br /&gt;2- Should you have a bad day at work, think of the man who has been out of work for years. &lt;br /&gt;3- Should you despair over a relationship gone bad, think of the person who has never known what it is like to love and be loved in return. &lt;br /&gt;4- Should you grieve the passing of another weekend, think of the woman in dire straits, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week to feed her children. &lt;br /&gt;5- Should your car break down, leaving you miles away from assistance, think of the paraplegic who would love the opportunity to take that walk. &lt;br /&gt;6- Should you notice a new gray hair in the mirror, think of the cancer patient in chemo who wishes she had hair to examine. &lt;br /&gt;7- Should you find yourself at a loss and pondering what life is all about, asking what your purpose is, be thankful. There are those who didn't live long enough to get the opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;8- Should you find yourself the victim of other people's bitterness, ignorance, smallness or insecurities, remember that things could be worse. You could be one of them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114953345561460769?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114953345561460769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114953345561460769&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114953345561460769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114953345561460769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/it-could-be-worse.html' title='It could be worse!'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114943556006404258</id><published>2006-06-04T18:56:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-04T19:13:58.113+03:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forgo their use."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Galileo Galilei (1564 - 1642)&lt;br /&gt;To read more, please refer to...&lt;a href="http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/asceticism-or-worldliness.html"&gt;..:: Asceticism or Worldliness? ::..&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114943556006404258?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114943556006404258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114943556006404258&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114943556006404258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114943556006404258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-do-not-feel-obliged-to-believe-that.html' title=''/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114932756623417998</id><published>2006-06-03T13:09:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-03T13:30:28.730+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The reality of it</title><content type='html'>As the wise and devout master was teaching his student he said: "I am giving you something, which has more value than gold, silver, pearls and jewels. Every spiritual concept that I teach you is very precious."&lt;br /&gt;The student was thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his way home, the student decided to buy some vegetables from the greengrocer. The greengrocer charged him 50 pence in return for the goods. The student said: "I do not have 50 pence. Instead I have something that is more valuable than gold and silver. I shall teach you a spiritual concept!"&lt;br /&gt;The greengrocer was annoyed by this statement. "Away with you! Go and give it to others. I need my 50 pence!" He retorted.&lt;br /&gt;The student was dejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He returned back to his teacher and said: "You told me that spirituality is more valuable than gold, silver, pearls and jewels - yet it is not even worth 50 pence in the sight of the greengrocer."&lt;br /&gt;The teacher calmly replied: "My son, you went to the wrong place! I shall ask you to do something. Here is a precious stone, take it to the greengrocer and try to get your vegetables in exchange for this precious stone." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The student went to the greengrocer and handed over the precious stone in exchange for the vegetables. "I need my 50 pence and not this useless piece of junk!" cried the greengrocer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The student returned to his teacher and narrated the incident. "Now my son, take the precious stone to the jeweler." Responded the teacher. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the jewelry shop everyone was bewildered and baffled and the boy was offered a great amount of money in return for the stone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The student enthusiastically went back to his teacher and told him what had happened. The teacher said: "The greengrocer does not know the value of a precious stone. How would you expect him to appreciate it? Whereas, a jeweller is an expert in his field and therefore he knew what the price and value of the stone was. &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;He knew the reality of it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114932756623417998?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114932756623417998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114932756623417998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114932756623417998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114932756623417998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/reality-of-it.html' title='The reality of it'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114932550735122861</id><published>2006-06-03T12:00:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-06-03T12:35:11.886+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Correct worship</title><content type='html'>Imam Sadigh (prophet Mohammad's sixth prodigy) noticed that one of his students had not attended class recently. He asked one of his friends where the student was.&lt;br /&gt;The friend replied: "He has become penniless."&lt;br /&gt;- What does he do?&lt;br /&gt;- He sits home all day, praying and worshiping.&lt;br /&gt;- Then how does he earn his livelihood?&lt;br /&gt;- One of his friends pays for his needs.&lt;br /&gt;Imam Sadigh replied: "I swear to God, his friend is a more sensible (muslim) worshiper than he is!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114932550735122861?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114932550735122861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114932550735122861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114932550735122861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114932550735122861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/06/correct-worship.html' title='Correct worship'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114909984276949186</id><published>2006-05-31T21:53:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-31T21:54:02.780+03:30</updated><title type='text'>No Coward Soul is Mine!</title><content type='html'>No coward soul is mine,&lt;br /&gt;No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:&lt;br /&gt;I see Heavens glories shine,&lt;br /&gt;And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O God within my breast.&lt;br /&gt;Almighty, ever-present Deity!&lt;br /&gt;Life -- that in me has rest,&lt;br /&gt;As I -- Undying Life -- have power in Thee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vain are the thousand creeds&lt;br /&gt;That move mens hearts: unutterably vain;&lt;br /&gt;Worthless as withered weeds,&lt;br /&gt;Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To waken doubt in one&lt;br /&gt;Holding so fast by Thine infinity;&lt;br /&gt;So surely anchored on&lt;br /&gt;The steadfast Rock of immortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With wide-embracing love&lt;br /&gt;Thy Spirit animates eternal years,&lt;br /&gt;Pervades and broods above,&lt;br /&gt;Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though earth and man were gone,&lt;br /&gt;And suns and universes ceased to be,&lt;br /&gt;And Thou wert left alone,&lt;br /&gt;Every existence would exist in Thee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is not room for Death,&lt;br /&gt;Nor atom that his might could render void:&lt;br /&gt;Thou -- Thou art Being and Breath,&lt;br /&gt;And what Thou art may never be destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-- Emily Bronte&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114909984276949186?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114909984276949186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114909984276949186&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114909984276949186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114909984276949186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/no-coward-soul-is-mine.html' title='No Coward Soul is Mine!'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114910155467585405</id><published>2006-05-31T21:43:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-31T22:22:34.686+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Drowning in vice</title><content type='html'>A man came to an shrewd scholar and said: "Dear sir, I am drowning in vice! Please show me a way to salvation."&lt;br /&gt;"If you accept five conditions," said the scholar, "and put them into practice, your disobedience will not cause you any problem!"&lt;br /&gt;"Is this possible!? Please sir, tell me what they are." the man responded.&lt;br /&gt;- "The first is that when you want to disobey God, do not eat anything He provides."&lt;br /&gt;- "Then how will I get anything to eat? Everything is from Him!"&lt;br /&gt;- "So is it right to eat His provision and disobey Him at the same time?"&lt;br /&gt;- "No, it is not. What is the second condition?"&lt;br /&gt;- "When you want to disobey Him, move off His land."&lt;br /&gt;- "That is even more difficult!" Exclaimed the man. "The Heavens and the Earth belong to him."&lt;br /&gt;- "Is it right to eat his provision and live on His land and meanwhile disobey Him?" asked the scholar.&lt;br /&gt;- "No, it is not. What is the third condition?"&lt;br /&gt;- "When you want to disobey Him in spite of eating His provision and living on His land, find a place where He will not see you and disobey Him there."&lt;br /&gt;- "What do you mean, Sir? He can see all places!"&lt;br /&gt;- "So is it right to disobey Him when you eat His provision and live on His land and when you know that He can see everything you do?"&lt;br /&gt;- "It certainly is not!" the man replied. "Tell me the fourth condition."&lt;br /&gt;- "That is, when the Angel of Death arrives to take your soul, ask for an extention so you may do good deeds to make up for the bad that you've done!"&lt;br /&gt;- "But he won't listen to me!"&lt;br /&gt;- "Then if you cannot ward off death long enough to give yourself time to repent, and you know that when it comes there will be no reprieve, how can you hope to be saved?"&lt;br /&gt;- "What is the fifth?"&lt;br /&gt;- "That when the demons of Hell come to you to take you to the Fire, do not go with them."&lt;br /&gt;- "They will take me whether I like it or not!" cried the man.&lt;br /&gt;The scholar kindly nodded to the stranger and said: "So my friend, why are you drowning in vice!?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114910155467585405?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114910155467585405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114910155467585405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114910155467585405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114910155467585405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/drowning-in-vice.html' title='Drowning in vice'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114909183072999544</id><published>2006-05-31T19:39:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-31T19:40:30.766+03:30</updated><title type='text'>der Hungerkünstler</title><content type='html'>Einmal habe ich dieses Stueck mit meiner Mutter in einem kleie Theater in Muester gesehen .Irgendwie war es doch ein Stoss um mit Kafka anzufangen! ;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ein Hungerkünstler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In den letzten Jahrzehnten ist das Interesse an Hungerkünstlern sehr zurückgegangen. Während es sich früher gut lohnte, große derartige Vorführungen in eigener Regie zu veranstalten, ist dies heute völlig unmöglich. Es waren andere Zeiten. Damals beschäftigte sich die ganze Stadt mit dem Hungerkünstler; von Hungertag zu Hungertag stieg die Teilnahme; jeder wollte den Hungerkünstler zumindest einmal täglich sehn; an den spätern Tagen gab es Abonnenten, welche tagelang vor dem kleinen Gitterkäfig saßen; auch in der Nacht fanden Besichtigungen statt, zur Erhöhung der Wirkung bei Fackelschein; an schönen Tagen wurde der Käfig ins Freie getragen, und nun waren es besonders die Kinder, denen der Hungerkünstler gezeigt wurde; während er für die Erwachsenen oft nur ein Spaß war, an dem sie der Mode halber teilnahmen, sahen die Kinder staunend, mit offenem Mund, der Sicherheit halber einander bei der Hand haltend, zu, wie er bleich, im schwarzen Trikot, mit mächtig vortretenden Rippen, sogar einen Sessel verschmähend, auf hingestreutem Stroh saß, einmal höflich nickend, angestrengt lächelnd Fragen beantwortete, auch durch das Gitter den Arm streckte, um seine Magerkeit befühlen zu lassen, dann aber wieder ganz in sich selbst versank, um niemanden sich kümmerte, nicht einmal um den für ihn so wichtigen Schlag der Uhr, die das einzige Möbelstück des Käfigs war, sondern nur vor sich hinsah mit fast geschlossenen Augen und hie und da aus einem winzigen Gläschen Wasser nippte, um sich die Lippen zu feuchten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Außer den wechselnden Zuschauern waren auch ständige, vom Publikum gewählte Wächter da, merkwürdigerweise gewöhnlich Fleischhauer, welche, immer drei gleichzeitig, die Aufgabe hatten, Tag und Nacht den Hungerkünstler zu beobachten, damit er nicht etwa auf irgendeine heimliche Weise doch Nahrung zu sich nehme. Es war das aber lediglich eine Formalität, eingeführt zur Beruhigung der Massen, denn die Eingeweihten wußten wohl, daß der Hungerkünstler während der Hungerzeit niemals, unter keinen Umständen, selbst unter Zwang nicht, auch das geringste nur gegessen hätte; die Ehre seiner Kunst verbot dies. Freilich, nicht jeder Wächter konnte das begreifen, es fanden sich manchmal nächtliche Wachgruppen, welche die Bewachung sehr lax durchführten, absichtlich in eine ferne Ecke sich zusammensetzten und dort sich ins Kartenspiel vertieften, in der offenbaren Absicht, dem Hungerkünstler eine kleine Erfrischung zu gönnen, die er ihrer Meinung nach aus irgendwelchen geheimen Vorräten hervorholen konnte. Nichts war dem Hungerkünstler quälender als solche Wächter; sie machten ihn trübselig; sie machten ihm das Hungern entsetzlich schwer; manchmal überwand er seine Schwäche und sang während dieser Wachzeit, solange er es nur aushielt, um den Leuten zu zeigen, wie ungerecht sie ihn verdächtigten. Doch half das wenig; sie wunderten sich dann nur über seine Geschicklichkeit, selbst während des Singens zu essen. Viel lieber waren ihm die Wächter, welche sich eng zum Gitter setzten, mit der trüben Nachtbeleuchtung des Saales sich nicht begnügten, sondern ihn mit den elektrischen Taschenlampen bestrahlten, die ihnen der Impresario zur Verfügung stellte. Das grelle Licht störte ihn gar nicht, schlafen konnte er ja überhaupt nicht, und ein wenig hindämmern konnte er immer, bei jeder Beleuchtung und zu jeder Stunde, auch im übervollen, lärmenden Saal. Er war sehr gerne bereit, mit solchen Wächtern die Nacht gänzlich ohne Schlaf zu verbringen; er war bereit, mit ihnen zu scherzen, ihnen Geschichten aus seinem Wanderleben zu erzählen, dann wieder ihre Erzählungen anzuhören, alles nur, um sie wachzuhalten, um ihnen immer wieder zeigen zu können, daß er nichts Eßbares im Käfig hatte und daß er hungerte, wie keiner von ihnen es könnte. Am glücklichsten aber war er, wenn dann der Morgen kam und ihnen auf seine Rechnung ein überreiches Frühstück gebracht wurde, auf das sie sich warfen mit dem Appetit gesunder Männer nach einer mühevoll durchwachten Nacht. Es gab zwar sogar Leute, die in diesem Frühstück eine ungebührliche Beeinflussung der Wächter sehen wollten, aber das ging doch zu weit, und wenn man sie fragte, ob etwa sie nur um der Sache willen ohne Frühstück die Nachtwache übernehmen wollten, verzogen sie sich, aber bei ihren Verdächtigungen blieben sie dennoch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dieses allerdings gehörte schon zu den vom Hungern überhaupt nicht zu trennenden Verdächtigungen. Niemand war ja imstande, alle die Tage und Nächte beim Hungerkünstler ununterbrochen als Wächter zu verbringen, niemand also konnte aus eigener Anschauung wissen, ob wirklich ununterbrochen, fehlerlos gehungert worden war; nur der Hungerkünstler selbst konnte das wissen, nur er also gleichzeitig der von seinem Hungern vollkommen befriedigte Zuschauer sein. Er war aber wieder aus einem andern Grunde niemals befriedigt; vielleicht war er gar nicht vom Hungern so sehr abgemagert, daß manche zu ihrem Bedauern den Vorführungen fernbleiben mußten, weil sie seinen Anblick nicht ertrugen, sondern er war nur so abgemagert aus Unzufriedenheit mit sich selbst. Er allein nämlich wußte, auch kein Eingeweihter sonst wußte das, wie leicht das Hungern war. Es war die leichteste Sache von der Welt. Er verschwieg es auch nicht, aber man glaubte ihm nicht, hielt ihn günstigenfalls für bescheiden, meist aber für reklamesüchtig oder gar für einen Schwindler, dem das Hungern allerdings leicht war, weil er es sich leicht zu machen verstand, und der auch noch die Stirn hatte, es halb zu gestehn. Das alles mußte er hinnehmen, hatte sich auch im Laufe der Jahre daran gewöhnt, aber innerlich nagte diese Unbefriedigtheit immer an ihm, und noch niemals, nach keiner Hungerperiode - dieses Zeugnis mußte man ihm ausstellen - hatte er freiwillig den Käfig verlassen. Als Höchstzeit für das Hungern hatte der Impresario vierzig Tage festgesetzt, darüber hinaus ließ er niemals hungern, auch in den Weltstädten nicht, und zwar aus gutem Grund. Vierzig Tage etwa konnte man erfahrungsgemäß durch allmählich sich steigernde Reklame das Interesse einer Stadt immer mehr aufstacheln, dann aber versagte das Publikum, eine wesentliche Abnahme des Zuspruchs war festzustellen; es bestanden natürlich in dieser Hinsicht kleine Unterschiede zwischen den Städten und Ländern, als Regel aber galt, daß vierzig Tage die Höchstzeit war. Dann also am vierzigsten Tage wurde die Tür des mit Blumen umkränzten Käfigs geöffnet, eine begeisterte Zuschauerschaft erfüllte das Amphitheater, eine Militärkapelle spielte, zwei Ärzte betraten den Käfig, um die nötigen Messungen am Hungerkünstler vorzunehmen, durch ein Megaphon wurden die Resultate dem Saale verkündet, und schließlich kamen zwei junge Damen, glücklich darüber, daß gerade sie ausgelost worden waren, und wollten den Hungerkünstler aus dem Käfig ein paar Stufen hinabführen, wo auf einem kleinen Tischchen eine sorgfältig ausgewählte Krankenmahlzeit serviert war. Und in diesem Augenblick wehrte sich der Hungerkünstler immer. Zwar legte er noch freiwillig seine Knochenarme in die hilfsbereit ausgestreckten Hände der zu ihm hinabgebeugten Damen, aber aufstehen wollte er nicht. Warum gerade jetzt nach vierzig Tagen aufhören? Er hätte es noch lange, unbeschränkt lange ausgehalten; warum gerade jetzt aufhören, wo er im besten, ja noch nicht einmal im besten Hungern war? Warum wollte man ihn des Ruhmes berauben, weiter zu hungern, nicht nur der größte Hungerkünstler aller Zeiten zu werden, der er ja wahrscheinlich schon war, aber auch noch sich selbst zu übertreffen bis ins Unbegreifliche, denn für seine Fähigkeit zu hungern fühlte er keine Grenzen. Warum hatte diese Menge, die ihn so sehr zu bewundern vorgab, so wenig Geduld mit ihm; wenn er es aushielt, noch weiter zu hungern, warum wollte sie es nicht aushalten? Auch war er müde, saß gut im Stroh und sollte sich nun hoch und lang aufrichten und zu dem Essen gehn, das ihm schon allein in der Vorstellung Übelkeiten verursachte, deren Äußerung er nur mit Rücksicht auf die Damen mühselig unterdrückte. Und er blickte empor in die Augen der scheinbar so freundlichen, in Wirklichkeit so grausamen Damen und schüttelte den auf dem schwachen Halse überschweren Kopf. Aber dann geschah, was immer geschah. Der Impresario kam, hob stumm - die Musik machte das Reden unmöglich - die Arme über dem Hungerkünstler, so, als lade er den Himmel ein, sich sein Werk hier auf dem Stroh einmal anzusehn, diesen bedauernswerten Märtyrer, welcher der Hungerkünstler allerdings war, nur in ganz anderem Sinn; faßte den Hungerkünstler um die dünne Taille, wobei er durch übertriebene Vorsicht glaubhaft machen wollte, mit einem wie gebrechlichen Ding er es hier zu tun habe; und übergab ihn - nicht ohne ihn im geheimen ein wenig zu schütteln, so daß der Hungerkünstler mit den Beinen und dem Oberkörper unbeherrscht hin und her schwankte - den inzwischen totenbleich gewordenen Damen. Nun duldete der Hungerkünstler alles; der Kopf lag auf der Brust, es war, als sei er hingerollt und halte sich dort unerklärlich; der Leib war ausgehöhlt; die Beine drückten sich im Selbsterhaltungstrieb fest in den Knien aneinander, scharrten aber doch den Boden, so, als sei es nicht der wirkliche, den wirklichen suchten sie erst; und die ganze, allerdings sehr kleine Last des Körpers lag auf einer der Damen, welche hilfesuchend, mit fliegendem Atem - so hatte sie sich dieses Ehrenamt nicht vorgestellt - zuerst den Hals möglichst streckte, um wenigstens das Gesicht vor der Berührung mit dem Hungerkünstler zu bewahren, dann aber, da ihr dies nicht gelang und ihre glücklichere Gefährtin ihr nicht zu Hilfe kam, sondern sich damit begnügte, zitternd die Hand des Hungerkünstlers, dieses kleine Knochenbündel, vor sich herzutragen, unter dem entzückten Gelächter des Saales in Weinen ausbrach und von einem längst bereitgestellten Diener abgelöst werden mußte. Dann kam das Essen, von dem der Impresario dem Hungerkünstler während eines ohnmachtähnlichen Halbschlafes ein wenig einflößte, unter lustigem Plaudern, das die Aufmerksamkeit vom Zustand des Hungerkünstlers ablenken sollte; dann wurde noch ein Trinkspruch auf das Publikum ausgebracht, welcher dem Impresario angeblich vom Hungerkünstler zugeflüstert worden war; das Orchester bekräftigte alles durch einen großen Tusch, man ging auseinander, und niemand hatte das Recht, mit dem Gesehenen unzufrieden zu sein, niemand, nur der Hungerkünstler, immer nur er. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lebte er mit regelmäßigen kleinen Ruhepausen viele Jahre, in scheinbarem Glanz, von der Welt geehrt, bei alledem aber meist in trüber Laune, die immer noch trüber wurde dadurch, daß niemand sie ernst zu nehmen verstand. Womit sollte man ihn auch trösten? Was blieb ihm zu wünschen übrig? Und wenn sich einmal ein Gutmütiger fand, der ihn bedauerte und ihm erklären wollte, daß seine Traurigkeit wahrscheinlich von dem Hungern käme, konnte es, besonders bei vorgeschrittener Hungerzeit, geschehn, daß der Hungerkünstler mit einem Wutausbruch antwortete und zum Schrecken aller wie ein Tier an dem Gitter zu rütteln begann. Doch hatte für solche Zustände der Impresario ein Strafmittel, das er gern anwandte. Er entschuldigte den Hungerkünstler vor versammeltem Publikum, gab zu, daß nur die durch das Hungern hervorgerufene, für satte Menschen nicht ohne weiteres begreifliche Reizbarkeit das Benehmen des Hungerkünstlers verzeihlich machen könne; kam dann im Zusammenhang damit auch auf die ebenso zu erklärende Behauptung des Hungerkünstlers zu sprechen, er könnte noch viel länger hungern, als er hungere; lobte das hohe Streben, den guten Willen, die große Selbstverleugnung, die gewiß auch in dieser Behauptung enthalten seien; suchte dann aber die Behauptung einfach genug durch Vorzeigen von Photographien, die gleichzeitig verkauft wurden, zu widerlegen, denn auf den Bildern sah man den Hungerkünstler an einem vierzigsten Hungertag, im Bett, fast verlöscht vor Entkräftung. Diese dem Hungerkünstler zwar wohlbekannte, immer aber von neuem ihn entnervende Verdrehung der Wahrheit war ihm zu viel. Was die Folge der vorzeitigen Beendigung des Hungerns war, stellte man hier als die Ursache dar! Gegen diesen Unverstand, gegen diese Welt des Unverstandes zu kämpfen, war unmöglich. Noch hatte er immer wieder in gutem Glauben begierig am Gitter dem Impresario zugehört, beim Erscheinen der Photographien aber ließ er das Gitter jedesmal los, sank mit Seufzen ins Stroh zurück, und das beruhigte Publikum konnte wieder herankommen und ihn besichtigen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wenn die Zeugen solcher Szenen ein paar Jahre später daran zurückdachten, wurden sie sich oft selbst unverständlich. Denn inzwischen war jener erwähnte Umschwung eingetreten; fast plötzlich war das geschehen; es mochte tiefere Gründe haben, aber wem lag daran, sie aufzufinden; jedenfalls sah sich eines Tages der verwöhnte Hungerkünstler von der vergnügungssüchtigen Menge verlassen, die lieber zu anderen Schaustellungen strömte. Noch einmal jagte der Impresario mit ihm durch halb Europa, um zu sehn, ob sich nicht noch hie und da das alte Interesse wiederfände; alles vergeblich; wie in einem geheimen Einverständnis hatte sich überall geradezu eine Abneigung gegen das Schauhungern ausgebildet. Natürlich hatte das in Wirklichkeit nicht plötzlich so kommen können, und man erinnerte sich jetzt nachträglich an manche zu ihrer Zeit im Rausch der Erfolge nicht genügend beachtete, nicht genügend unterdrückte Vorboten, aber jetzt etwas dagegen zu unternehmen, war zu spät. Zwar war es sicher, daß einmal auch für das Hungern wieder die Zeit kommen werde, aber für die Lebenden war das kein Trost. Was sollte nun der Hungerkünstler tun? Der, welchen Tausende umjubelt hatten, konnte sich nicht in Schaubuden auf kleinen Jahrmärkten zeigen, und um einen andern Beruf zu ergreifen, war der Hungerkünstler nicht nur zu alt, sondern vor allem dem Hungern allzu fanatisch ergeben. So verabschiedete er denn den Impresario, den Genossen einer Laufbahn ohnegleichen, und ließ sich von einem großen Zirkus engagieren; um seine Empfindlichkeit zu schonen, sah er die Vertragsbedingungen gar nicht an. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ein großer Zirkus mit seiner Unzahl von einander immer wieder ausgleichenden und ergänzenden Menschen und Tieren und Apparaten kann jeden und zu jeder Zeit gebrauchen, auch einen Hungerkünstler, bei entsprechend bescheidenen Ansprüchen natürlich, und außerdem war es ja in diesem besonderen Fall nicht nur der Hungerkünstler selbst, der engagiert wurde, sondern auch sein alter berühmter Name, ja man konnte bei der Eigenart dieser im zunehmenden Alter nicht abnehmenden Kunst nicht einmal sagen, daß ein ausgedienter, nicht mehr auf der Höhe seines Könnens stehender Künstler sich in einen ruhigen Zirkusposten flüchten wolle, im Gegenteil, der Hungerkünstler versicherte, daß er, was durchaus glaubwürdig war, ebensogut hungere wie früher, ja er behauptete sogar, er werde, wenn man ihm seinen Willen lasse, und dies versprach man ihm ohne weiteres, eigentlich erst jetzt die Welt in berechtigtes Erstaunen setzen, eine Behauptung allerdings, die mit Rücksicht auf die Zeitstimmung, welche der Hungerkünstler im Eifer leicht vergaß, bei den Fachleuten nur ein Lächeln hervorrief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im Grunde aber verlor auch der Hungerkünstler den Blick für die wirklichen Verhältnisse nicht und nahm es als selbstverständlich hin, daß man ihn mit seinem Käfig nicht etwa als Glanznummer mitten in die Manege stellte, sondern draußen an einem im übrigen recht gut zugänglichen Ort in der Nähe der Stallungen unterbrachte. Große, bunt gemalte Aufschriften umrahmten den Käfig und verkündeten, was dort zu sehen war. Wenn das Publikum in den Pausen der Vorstellung zu den Ställen drängte, um die Tiere zu besichtigen, war es fast unvermeidlich, daß es beim Hungerkünstler vorüberkam und ein wenig dort haltmachte, man wäre vielleicht länger bei ihm geblieben, wenn nicht in dem schmalen Gang die Nachdrängenden, welche diesen Aufenthalt auf dem Weg zu den ersehnten Ställen nicht verstanden, eine längere ruhige Betrachtung unmöglich gemacht hätten. Dieses war auch der Grund, warum der Hungerkünstler vor diesen Besuchszeiten, die er als seinen Lebenszweck natürlich herbeiwünschte, doch auch wieder zitterte. In der ersten Zeit hatte er die Vorstellungspausen kaum erwarten können; entzückt hatte er der sich heranwälzenden Menge entgegengesehn, bis er sich nur zu bald - auch die hartnäckigste, fast bewußte Selbsttäuschung hielt den Erfahrungen nicht stand - davon überzeugte, daß es zumeist der Absicht nach, immer wieder, ausnahmslos, lauter Stallbesucher waren. Und dieser Anblick von der Ferne blieb noch immer der schönste. Denn wenn sie bis zu ihm herangekommen waren, umtobte ihn sofort Geschrei und Schimpfen der ununterbrochen neu sich bildenden Parteien, jener, welche - sie wurde dem Hungerkünstler bald die peinlichere - ihn bequem ansehen wollte, nicht etwa aus Verständnis, sondern aus Laune und Trotz, und jener zweiten, die zunächst nur nach den Ställen verlangte. War der große Haufe vorüber, dann kamen die Nachzügler, und diese allerdings, denen es nicht mehr verwehrt war, stehenzubleiben, solange sie nur Lust hatten, eilten mit langen Schritten, fast ohne Seitenblick, vorüber, um rechtzeitig zu den Tieren zu kommen. Und es war kein allzu häufiger Glücksfall, daß ein Familienvater mit seinen Kindern kam, mit dem Finger auf den Hungerkünstler zeigte, ausführlich erklärte, um was es sich hier handelte, von früheren Jahren erzählte, wo er bei ähnlichen, aber unvergleichlich großartigeren Vorführungen gewesen war, und dann die Kinder, wegen ihrer ungenügenden Vorbereitung von Schule und Leben her, zwar immer noch verständnislos blieben - was war ihnen Hungern? -, aber doch in dem Glanz ihrer forschenden Augen etwas von neuen, kommenden, gnädigeren Zeiten verrieten. Vielleicht, so sagte sich der Hungerkünstler dann manchmal, würde alles doch ein wenig besser werden, wenn sein Standort nicht gar so nahe bei den Ställen wäre. Den Leuten wurde dadurch die Wahl zu leicht gemacht, nicht zu reden davon, daß ihn die Ausdünstungen der Ställe, die Unruhe der Tiere in der Nacht, das Vorübertragen der rohen Fleischstücke für die Raubtiere, die Schreie bei der Fütterung sehr verletzten und dauernd bedrückten. Aber bei der Direktion vorstellig zu werden, wagte er nicht; immerhin verdankte er ja den Tieren die Menge der Besucher, unter denen sich hie und da auch ein für ihn Bestimmter finden konnte, und wer wußte, wohin man ihn verstecken würde, wenn er an seine Existenz erinnern wollte und damit auch daran, daß er, genau genommen, nur ein Hindernis auf dem Wege zu den Ställen war. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ein kleines Hindernis allerdings, ein immer kleiner werdendes Hindernis. Man gewöhnte sich an die Sonderbarkeit, in den heutigen Zeiten Aufmerksamkeit für einen Hungerkünstler beanspruchen zu wollen, und mit dieser Gewöhnung war das Urteil über ihn gesprochen. Er mochte so gut hungern, als er nur konnte, und er tat es, aber nichts konnte ihn mehr retten, man ging an ihm vorüber. Versuche, jemandem die Hungerkunst zu erklären! Wer es nicht fühlt, dem kann man es nicht begreiflich machen. Die schönen Aufschriften wurden schmutzig und unleserlich, man riß sie herunter, niemandem fiel es ein, sie zu ersetzen; das Täfelchen mit der Ziffer der abgeleisteten Hungertage, das in der ersten Zeit sorgfältig täglich erneut worden war, blieb schon längst immer das gleiche, denn nach den ersten Wochen war das Personal selbst dieser kleinen Arbeit überdrüssig geworden; und so hungerte zwar der Hungerkünstler weiter, wie er es früher einmal erträumt hatte, und es gelang ihm ohne Mühe ganz so, wie er es damals vorausgesagt hatte, aber niemand zählte die Tage, niemand, nicht einmal der Hungerkünstler selbst wußte, wie groß die Leistung schon war, und sein Herz wurde schwer. Und wenn einmal in der Zeit ein Müßiggänger stehenblieb, sich über die alte Ziffer lustig machte und von Schwindel sprach, so war das in diesem Sinn die dümmste Lüge, welche Gleichgültigkeit und eingeborene Bösartigkeit erfinden konnte, denn nicht der Hungerkünstler betrog, er arbeitete ehrlich, aber die Welt betrog ihn um seinen Lohn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doch vergingen wieder viele Tage, und auch das nahm ein Ende. Einmal fiel einem Aufseher der Käfig auf, und er fragte die Diener, warum man hier diesen gut brauchbaren Käfig mit dem verfaulten Stroh drinnen unbenutzt stehenlasse; niemand wußte es, bis sich einer mit Hilfe der Ziffertafel an den Hungerkünstler erinnerte. Man rührte mit Stangen das Stroh auf und fand den Hungerkünstler darin. »Du hungerst noch immer?« fragte der Aufseher, »wann wirst du denn endlich aufhören?« »Verzeiht mir alle«, flüsterte der Hungerkünstler; nur der Aufseher, der das Ohr ans Gitter hielt, verstand ihn. »Gewiß«, sagte der Aufseher und legte den Finger an die Stirn, um damit den Zustand des Hungerkünstlers dem Personal anzudeuten, »wir verzeihen dir.« »Immerfort wollte ich, daß ihr mein Hungern bewundert«, sagte der Hungerkünstler. »Wir bewundern es auch«, sagte der Aufseher entgegenkommend. »Ihr solltet es aber nicht bewundern«, sagte der Hungerkünstler. »Nun, dann bewundern wir es also nicht«, sagte der Aufseher, »warum sollen wir es denn nicht bewundern?« »Weil ich hungern muß, ich kann nicht anders«, sagte der Hungerkünstler. »Da sieh mal einer«, sagte der Aufseher, »warum kannst du denn nicht anders?« »Weil ich«, sagte der Hungerkünstler, hob das Köpfchen ein wenig und sprach mit wie zum Kuß gespitzten Lippen gerade in das Ohr des Aufsehers hinein, damit nichts verlorenginge, »weil ich nicht die Speise finden konnte, die mir schmeckt. Hätte ich sie gefunden, glaube mir, ich hätte kein Aufsehen gemacht und mich vollgegessen wie du und alle.« Das waren die letzten Worte, aber noch in seinen gebrochenen Augen war die feste, wenn auch nicht mehr stolze Überzeugung, daß er weiterhungere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;»Nun macht aber Ordnung«, sagte der Aufseher, und man begrub den Hungerkünstler samt dem Stroh. In den Käfig aber gab man einen jungen Panther. Es war eine selbst dem stumpfsten Sinn fühlbare Erholung, in dem so lange öden Käfig dieses wilde Tier sich herumwerfen zu sehn. Ihm fehlte nichts. Die Nahrung, die ihm schmeckte, brachten ihm ohne langes Nachdenken die Wächter; nicht einmal die Freiheit schien er zu vermissen; dieser edle, mit allem Nötigen bis knapp zum Zerreißen ausgestattete Körper schien auch die Freiheit mit sich herumzutragen; irgendwo im Gebiß schien sie zu stecken; und die Freude am Leben kam mit derart starker Glut aus seinem Rachen, daß es für die Zuschauer nicht leicht war, ihr standzuhalten. Aber sie überwanden sich, umdrängten den Käfig und wollten sich gar nicht fortrühren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114909183072999544?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114909183072999544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114909183072999544&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114909183072999544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114909183072999544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/der-hungerknstler.html' title='der Hungerkünstler'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114905530637559728</id><published>2006-05-31T09:05:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-31T09:48:26.546+03:30</updated><title type='text'>What can be done in a minute?</title><content type='html'>Time is of the essence and is too precious to be wasted!&lt;br /&gt;Those of thought pay attention to their time and don't treat it as a vessel to be filled with cheap things, vain talk, and empty amusement! Every minute of a person’s life carries the potential to both little by little benefit himself and to make his people happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets just list a couple of things that I can do in one minute...&lt;br /&gt;- I can read a post on this blog!&lt;br /&gt;- I can read two pages of a useful book.&lt;br /&gt;- I can uphold the ties of kinship by calling a relative on the phone.&lt;br /&gt;- I can eat a nutritious snack.&lt;br /&gt;- I can memorize something pleasant.&lt;br /&gt;- I can forbid someone from making a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;- I can motivate someone towards a lovely action.&lt;br /&gt;- I can put a smile on someone's face.&lt;br /&gt;- I can give charity.&lt;br /&gt;- I can offer sincere advice to a friend.&lt;br /&gt;- I can console someone who is depressed.&lt;br /&gt;- I can remove something harmful from the road.&lt;br /&gt;- Just think of it! In one minute I can love you and motivate your heart to give thanks to God Almighty, to love Him, to put hope in Him, and to long for Him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...it might be better to ask what can't be done in a minute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114905530637559728?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114905530637559728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114905530637559728&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114905530637559728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114905530637559728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/what-can-be-done-in-minute.html' title='What can be done in a minute?'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114899710994744426</id><published>2006-05-30T17:21:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-30T17:21:49.946+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The future</title><content type='html'>Albert Einstein:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I never think of the future - it comes soon enough&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114899710994744426?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114899710994744426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114899710994744426&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114899710994744426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114899710994744426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/future.html' title='The future'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114899670768518442</id><published>2006-05-30T16:37:00.001+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-30T17:20:00.310+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Asceticism or Worldliness?</title><content type='html'>History shows that societies chose either asceticism or worldliness. &lt;br /&gt;In Europe for example, Rome went towards corruption, bloodshed, dominating the world, and accumulating the wealth of Asia and Europe. Later Jesus (PBUH) emerged and oriented Rome towards the hereafter to such an extent that it led to the Middle Ages. In other words, Rome, the land of bloodshed, power, and militarism turned into the territory of monasticism and seclusion. Until finally the Renaissance was born and the pendulum was then swung back again to worldliness. Today, the European civilization has become so world-minded (by occupying humanity with sensual gratifications) that, as Professor Chandel states:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Today's world has dedicated itself to producing only life's amenities. This shows the asininity of man's philosophy today. It signifies the aimless direction of technology and the ideal-less civilization. That is, humanity has deviated so drastically that it needs another Jesus."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is evident to me that man has both a materialistic aspect and a holy spiritual side. Neither aspect should be overlooked and a neglection of either facet will result to a forlorn desolation. Straying away from material realities and needs will turn man into a secluded an ill individual with no advancement or developments. Alternatively, the disregarding of the spiritual truth will result to the void of morals and to a dreadful emptyness turning humans into beings no differnet than walking carcasses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man is a two-dimensional being and such a being needs a religion which can protect him from swinging to either asceticism or worldliness. A system is needed to continually keep man at equilibrium and give reality to his great responsibility and my personal belief is that the best system which can keep man in balance between the world and the hereafter is Islam.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114899670768518442?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114899670768518442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114899670768518442&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114899670768518442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114899670768518442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/asceticism-or-worldliness.html' title='Asceticism or Worldliness?'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114892997636283522</id><published>2006-05-29T22:39:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-30T17:57:47.696+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The journey</title><content type='html'>The young boy had packed his bag and had headed out on his search for the meaning of life. He reached a tall oak tree at the beginning of his quest and arrogantly looked it over. "Poor oak!" He exclaimed. "I'm headed out on a search to find the meaning of life but you're stuck here and aren't able to move! How will you ever find the truth?"&lt;br /&gt;The oak &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;gently smiled &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;back.&lt;br /&gt;"You don't understand anything!" The boy restlessly retorted and walked away on his adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many years passed and the boy grew into an old man. He had searched the world and had seen many things. His hair had grown grey and at last he had come back to his home town to settle under the shade of the aged oak tree.&lt;br /&gt;The oak &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;smiled gently&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; as the man took refuge from the blazing sun. "So what did you find?" asked the tree. The old man looked up with a tender look and &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;gently smiled&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114892997636283522?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114892997636283522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114892997636283522&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114892997636283522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114892997636283522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/journey.html' title='The journey'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114891738193158588</id><published>2006-05-29T19:12:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-29T19:13:01.940+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Der Abgerissen Strick</title><content type='html'>Der abgerissene Strick&lt;br /&gt;kann wieder geknotet werden&lt;br /&gt;er hält wieder, aber&lt;br /&gt;er ist zerrissen.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Vielleicht begegnen&lt;br /&gt;wir uns wieder,&lt;br /&gt;aber da,&lt;br /&gt;wo du mich verlassen hast&lt;br /&gt;triffst du mich&lt;br /&gt;nicht wieder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bertolt Brecht&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114891738193158588?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114891738193158588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114891738193158588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114891738193158588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114891738193158588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/der-abgerissen-strick.html' title='Der Abgerissen Strick'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114888576834512742</id><published>2006-05-29T10:03:00.001+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-29T10:39:36.750+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Cactus</title><content type='html'>I looked at the lonely cactus and said: "What is your greatest wish in the world so that I may try my best to fulfill it?"&lt;br /&gt;After a sigh, he replied: "I've never been loved, will you give me a hug!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.alibazargan.persiangig.com/image/cactus.jpg"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114888576834512742?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114888576834512742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114888576834512742&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114888576834512742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114888576834512742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/cactus_29.html' title='Cactus'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114884566739885737</id><published>2006-05-28T23:16:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-28T23:17:47.406+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Sterne und Träume</title><content type='html'>Weißt Du noch,&lt;br /&gt;wie ich Dir die Sterne vom Himmel&lt;br /&gt;holen wollte,&lt;br /&gt;um uns einen Traum zu erfüllen?&lt;br /&gt;Aber&lt;br /&gt;Du meintest,&lt;br /&gt;     sie hingen viel zu hoch ...!&lt;br /&gt;Gestern&lt;br /&gt;streckte ich mich zufällig&lt;br /&gt;dem Himmel entgegen,&lt;br /&gt;und ein Stern fiel&lt;br /&gt;in meine Hand hinein.&lt;br /&gt;Er war noch warm&lt;br /&gt;und zeigte mir,&lt;br /&gt;daß Träume vielleicht nicht sofort&lt;br /&gt;in Erfüllung gehen;&lt;br /&gt;    aber irgendwann ...?!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;- Markus Bomhard -&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114884566739885737?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114884566739885737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114884566739885737&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114884566739885737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114884566739885737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/sterne-und-trume.html' title='Sterne und Träume'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114884526963689925</id><published>2006-05-28T22:20:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-30T16:34:53.230+03:30</updated><title type='text'>The final trial</title><content type='html'>The young student had completed all of his training but the final test awaited him. His wise instructor looked at him prudently and said: "If you successfully carry out this last trial, I will acknowledge your qualification."&lt;br /&gt;The student was very eager and wondered to himself: "I have worked hard and have learned tremendously, I wonder what the last examination will be?"&lt;br /&gt;The instructor continued: "The trial is fantastically simple. You must wait in the field and I will let loose three bulls, one at a time. All you must do is grab the tail of at least one of the animals."&lt;br /&gt;The student was delighted and could taste his final triumph!&lt;br /&gt;The test began and the instructor let loose the first bull.&lt;br /&gt;The student who was waiting in the field watched in awe when he realized that a beast was headed his way. He was robust and vigorous. "He looks forceful." He thought to himself. "I'll let him go, and certainly grab the tail of the next one." So the young student stood aside and watched the bull scamper away.&lt;br /&gt;The next bull was released.&lt;br /&gt;The student watched in astonishment as he noticed that the second bull was even more enraged than the last. He was furious and the ground shook with every one of his powerful strides. The student was shaking and it was obvious for him that this was not a beast to get near to! Disappointed, he was forced to allow this bull to pass as well. "Oh no! What if the third bull is even larger than this!?" He said to himself. "I wish I had grabbed the first bull's tail with a little effort and used my chance when I could have! I’ve made an awful mistake!"&lt;br /&gt;He shook his head and awaited the final bull.&lt;br /&gt;His eyes dazzled and he was smiling from ear to ear when he set eyes upon the last of the bulls. It was a weak and frail cow who was calmly walking his way! The student shouted with joy and happily strolled towards the animal. "I'm glad I didn't tire myself by attempting at the first two beasts!" He cried! And as he walked up behind the cow and reached out his hand with comfort, he sadly realized that the deprived animal had no tail!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114884526963689925?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114884526963689925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114884526963689925&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114884526963689925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114884526963689925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/final-trial.html' title='The final trial'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114879827455017791</id><published>2006-05-28T09:52:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-28T10:38:03.576+03:30</updated><title type='text'>State of the world</title><content type='html'>I was surfing through the internet when I came across a line that caught my eye and I thought it would be nice to share it! It was interesting how the words could be implemented to the current state of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mahatma Gandhi:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What difference does it make to the dead, the orphans, and the homeless, whether the mad destruction is wrought under the name of totalitarianism or the holy name of liberty or democracy?...&lt;br /&gt;... I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114879827455017791?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114879827455017791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114879827455017791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114879827455017791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114879827455017791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/state-of-world.html' title='State of the world'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114873104556346522</id><published>2006-05-27T15:21:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-27T15:54:32.996+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Leper colony</title><content type='html'>A visitor was being shown around a leper colony. The colony was built to provide a shelter for the poor and people with various physical disabilities. The visitor looked around in amazement and felt disturbed by some of the sights he saw. He wondered to himself: "how do these people get through the day?" He just couldn't understand how they were living life despite all the difficulties.&lt;br /&gt;At noon, a bell sounded to gather the inhabitants for the midday meal. The disabled individuals gathered from all parts of the compound in the dining hall. Straightaway, everyone noticed two young men, one riding on the other's back, looking like a horse and a rider.&lt;br /&gt;The visitor was close to rudely letting out a burst of laughter at the sight and whispered an improper comment as he watched.&lt;br /&gt;A nearby nurse heard his remark and stared him in the eyes. The visitor turned red with shame. After a good long look the nurse calmly said: "The man who carries his friend is blind, and the man being carried is lame. The one who can't see uses his feet; and the one who can't walk uses his eyes. Together they help each other and reach their destination."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114873104556346522?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114873104556346522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114873104556346522&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114873104556346522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114873104556346522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/leper-colony.html' title='Leper colony'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114867615152727609</id><published>2006-05-27T00:10:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-27T00:12:31.540+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Wenn Herr K einen Menschen liebte</title><content type='html'>Was tun Sie wurde Herr K gefragt wenn Sie einen Menschen lieben?&lt;br /&gt;Ich mache eine Entwurf von Ihm. Sagte Herr K,und sorge dafuer dass er ihm aehnlich wird.&lt;br /&gt;Wer? Der Entwurf?&lt;br /&gt;Nein sagte Herr K der Mensch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114867615152727609?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114867615152727609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114867615152727609&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114867615152727609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114867615152727609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/wenn-herr-k-einen-menschen-liebte.html' title='Wenn Herr K einen Menschen liebte'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114866680879114194</id><published>2006-05-26T20:59:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-28T10:31:00.760+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Alexander</title><content type='html'>Historical fact&gt;&gt; On his sickbed and during his last hour alive, Alexander the Great told his generals: "After my death, when you put my body in the casket, let my arms hang over the edges with my palms wide open, so the public can see my empty hands while I am leaving the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My understanding&gt;&gt; Alexander the Great is known as the most powerful military leader and conqueror of the ancient world. Before he turned 30 years old he conquered an empire stretching over 3,000 miles from Greece to India. He was born in 356 BC in Macedonia, known today as northern Greece. When he ruled the world, great treasures of gold, silver, and enormous wealth came to be under his possession. Yet, indeed he left the world empty handed!&lt;br /&gt;I think this is to show us that no matter what you have and no matter who you are, ending up empty handed in a casket is inevitable. I don't look at this fact as something that pralyzes my will to live, or a factor for becoming disregardful towards my existence. On the contrary, with a bright, thoughtful, and honest approach, this fact can help guide us towards things of actual value; things that are not taken away with a simple materialistic death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114866680879114194?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114866680879114194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114866680879114194&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114866680879114194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114866680879114194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/alexander.html' title='Alexander'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114862882979053774</id><published>2006-05-26T10:52:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-26T11:03:49.796+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Poem</title><content type='html'>My daughter asked me to read her a poem,&lt;br /&gt;Tears came from my shining eyes,&lt;br /&gt;She said: "Father, these are tears! not words!"&lt;br /&gt;I replied: "Tears and words are brothers, and a poem is a reunion"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114862882979053774?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114862882979053774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114862882979053774&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114862882979053774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114862882979053774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/poem.html' title='Poem'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114858594637391803</id><published>2006-05-25T23:08:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-25T23:09:06.380+03:30</updated><title type='text'>Das Wiedersehen</title><content type='html'>Auch ich moechte  mit Gottes Namen anfangen,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Ein Mann,der Herrn K. Lange nicht gesehen hatte,begruesste ihn mit den Worten“ Sie haben sich gar nict veraendert“ „Oh!“ sagte Herr K und erbleichte.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114858594637391803?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114858594637391803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114858594637391803&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114858594637391803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114858594637391803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/das-wiedersehen.html' title='Das Wiedersehen'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28718867.post-114855650451331920</id><published>2006-05-25T14:49:00.000+03:30</published><updated>2006-05-25T14:58:24.520+03:30</updated><title type='text'>In the name of Goodness</title><content type='html'>-In the name of Allah, the merciful, the beneficent-&lt;br /&gt;I swear by TIME &lt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most surely man is in loss &lt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except those who believe and do good, and enjoin on each other truth, and enjoin on each other patience &lt;&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/28718867-114855650451331920?l=four9.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/feeds/114855650451331920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=28718867&amp;postID=114855650451331920&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114855650451331920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/28718867/posts/default/114855650451331920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://four9.blogspot.com/2006/05/in-name-of-goodness.html' title='In the name of Goodness'/><author><name>99.99</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05363099328469799154</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
