“Wow! I’m ecstatic to tell you that I’ve snagged another one of Dr. Lant’s superb articles.”
I wish to thank each and everyone of you who read this “Blog” and those who take the time out of their busy day to comment. We are only just getting started here. So please do keep reading and especially making comments. The direction of this “Blog” comes from you and the comments that you impart to us. Today’s “Blog:..Who's picture should appear on the next batch of postage stamps?Why yours... and mine, of course! An audacious proposal.
So as I mentioned to you above. Comment, Comment, Comment. Your opinionhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif matters so make it known. Until Tomorrow. You can reach me by email lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com; cell phone 310-561-2580, or Skype me at lawence.rinke http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif . And I want to hear from each and EVERY one of YOU!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. The United States Postal Service is in deep doo doo. There's no question about that. The question is what are they doing to clean up the mess and run in the black again? Elvis Presley has already helped the Postal Service out once before; he was featured on the 29 cent stamp in June, 2004. So, I'm again calling on the King to assist... this time with his catchy little ditty, "Return to Sender" (released 1962)). You'll find it in any search engine. Enjoy! And, remember, if the Postal Service cannot solve this problem, His Majesty's words will be prescient indeed -- "no such number, no such zone." At least in that case the USPS will have an excuse for non-delivery. They won't be so lucky in general.
Crisis at the USPS.
As I have written before, the lumbering United States Postal Service, founded in 1775 by Benjamin Franklin, is reeling from crisis to crisis. I have reported on their pressing problems, problems which have been worsened by the tortoise-like speed with which they react, slow, slow, aggravatingly slow.
It took them far too long to react to the advent and significance of the Internet and e-mail. While the world was flocking to these and other methods of communication and fast delivery -- (quick! can you say "Federal Express"?) -- the postal service maintained an establishment that any emperor would envy. It was immense, costly, unnecessary and the whitest of sacred cows, politically sacrosanct, untouchable.
Sure, they cut jobs... but too few, too slow.
Sure, they closed post offices. Again, too few, too slow.
It was all reactive, always too little, too late.
And while they fiddled, Rome burned... money... huge amounts of it, too. They needed -- had to have yesterday -- at least ten billion bucks, not least for pensions for their overworked employees! Their general attitude seemed to be the same as Mad Magazine's Alfred E. Newman: "What me worry?"
Until now...
I don't know whether this idea came in from an overpaid consultant or was put into the suggestion box by a bright lad or lassie... but, at last, someone is brainstorming ideas not just sitting around figuring out how many days remain until they can retire and get their pension.
The idea goes like this.
Living people should be placed on stamps for the first time ever.
Sounds logical to me. The USPS needs money. Put the living to work by placing them on stamps -- thereby helping the dead who are, you'll admit, past the business of helping otherwise than by using their mugs on the stamps.
Of course, the minute this idea was floated by USPS, the venerable Boston Globe, sure to be on the wrong side of any progressive idea, weighed in with its usual ponderous, pompous, and (may I say) downright silly response.
I quote from their sonorous, sententious editorial of September 28, 2011, thus
"... its decision to abandon a longstanding policy by allowing living people to appear on stamps in hopes of boosting sales is short-sighted. The service concluded that it could no longer afford to pass up the opportunities of, say, an Oprah commemorative stamp, or perhaps a first-day cover for the season premiere of 'Glee'".
But the Globe-ists are just warming up. "But for a modest financial gain, the service is sacrificing a rule that has kept disreputable characters off stamps -- imagine the Pete Rose commemorative, circa 1985 -- and more importantly, helped insulate the agency from political disputes." It then concludes with that orotund flourish for which it is famous: "The Postal Service should let history render its verdict before delivering its own." They all but said forsooth and nevermore. It is for such an organization with such insular thinking that the word fustian was invented.
What we need is to extend the recommendation... not kill it. Here's how we do just that:
1) It should be the policy of the USPS that people should appear on postage stamps, whether living or dead does not signify.
2) Worry about whether some living person placed on a stamp later is found to be disreputable in some way or another is a complete waste of time. For one thing, there are plenty of dead folks with skeletons in their closets who have been honored (Thomas Jefferson and his forced liaison with Sally Hemings comes immediately to mind)... and if the public disapproves of one person or another, that's unimportant. The postal service needs the money and that's that. However, I suspect that given the usual propensities and proclivities of stamp purchasers and collectors, the more notorious the crime, the more that stamp will sell. Elvis is a very good example.He was hardly a model citizen.
Thus, let's develop a list of, say, 100 currently living Americans who are, each and every one of them, contributors to American life, culture, and welfare. This should include authors, scientists, inventors, statesmen, athletes, entertainers, business titans, and a catch-all category for other worthies and notables.
Now let's make this proposal truly audacious, bold, and ground breaking. Let's go for broke and completely change the basis for appearing on stamps, just like the Blair Ministry in the United Kingdom changed the basis on which the royal honors are given out, so that anyone could get an honor... if deemed suitable. And that's the way it should be for our postage stamps. Sure, Bill Gates should be on a stamp... but so should the executive director of a vibrant, helpful historical preservation society. Equally, while Patriot Tom Brady should be honored (especially if he retains his wind-blown locks) so should a hero helping polar bears survive or running a rescue league... and, of course, if you and I have a claim... we should be allowed to put our reasons in writing and say so... It's only right and proper.
The only category of folks who should be excluded is... current office-holding politicians holding any elected post whatsoever. They can -- and should -- wait to be honored until dead... and etch that prohibition in stone, or they most assuredly will find a way around it. And that's a fact.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Jeffrey Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.
Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com. Check out Affiliate Ownage -> http://www.ActionEqualsProfit.com/?rd=ap3AHggG
Please leave a comment!
I personally reply to all !
Come on in at
Sign in as a FREE associate. See what we do! Meet and chat with the Master himself!
Let US add you to our VIP list for our DAILY LIVE WEBCAST!
FREE now to the first 20 comments, I will GUARANTEE you
50,000 visitors to the website of YOUR choice!
You do need to come on in and visit us, for this phenomenal
offer!
Please include some kind of commentary, saying only
“Thanks for posting” is not a comment on my articles!
Chance of a Lifetime to actually meet and chat with Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Any questions? email me personally at lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com
Could you use 50.000 free visitors to a website of Your choice?
Give me a call and Find out How!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
phone:310-561-2580 http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Thank you for stopping by, and Please Come again!
Lawrence Rinke
Business Coach
President : ActionEqualsProfit.com
Join Me On Skype: lawrence.rinke
P.S., If you would like content like this free to use in your blog to generate leads .Give me a call at 310-561-2580, I’d be glad to tell you how, or Leave phone number in comment. . I respond immediately to all comments.
Thanks Again
LCR
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
First autumn ice, a man named Matt who spoke of God and blessed me, and a gladness for chance encounters.
“Wow! I’m ecstatic to tell you that I’ve snagged another one of Dr. Lant’s superb articles.”
I wish to thank each and everyone of you who read this “Blog” and those who take the time out of their busy day to comment. We are only just getting started here. So please do keep reading and especially making comments. The direction of this “Blog” comes from you and the comments that you impart to us. Today’s “Blog:..First autumn ice, a man named Matt who spoke of God and blessed me, and a gladness for chance encounters.
So as I mentioned to you above. Comment, Comment, Comment. Your opinionhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif matters so make it known. Until Tomorrow. You can reach me by email lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com; cell phone 310-561-2580, or Skype me at lawence.rinke http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif . And I want to hear from each and EVERY one of YOU!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's Program Note. How's your knowledge of Korean pop music? I thought so and yet Song Gol Mae produced in 1981 the perfect song for this article. It's called "Chance Encounter"... and in this dangerous world most of us assiduously avoid them, the odds of catastrophe going up, we reckon, as we -- and the earth -- age together.
http://youtu.be/SRKgnvML9T4
And yet... chance encounters intrigue us... entertain us... bemuse and make us wonder whether there is a thing called "fate"... and what else it has in store for us.
Why I went out so early today, well before the dawn...
My colleagues, my family, my friends and even some of the millions of people who do me the honor of reading whatever's on my mind as it morphs into electronic and paper printed articles... these folks have been ganging up on me for some time now. Here's just a sample of what they pepper me with early and late; all for my own good of course:
"All work and no play..." (an aphorism so well known in our overworked day that no one ever finishes it; so I shall: "make Jack a dull boy." (I wouldn't know, since I prune dull boys from my acquaintance with deft alacrity, especially those named Jack).
"You know you ARE over 60, old man; slow down and smell the roses"... or the coffee... or whatever they deem worthy of slowing down for and sniffing. For the record, I detest coffee, always have, and think that a substance silent but deadly should shroud all who imbibe it, the more so because those who drink it cannot resist discussing it, reliving every drop they have ever had... ad nauseam... As for roses, ever since the florist industry had the brainchild of breeding roses without scent, I have transferred my respect, admiration -- and nose -- to other flora which shall not be mentioned here, lest the florists again take aim at that scent, too. Mum's the word.
"You've got more money than God. Why don't you spend some it, Scrooge?" They little know that I'm wildly extravagant about what I like... and parsimonious to a degree about things I don't. Clothes, for instance, being in my book a complete waste of money; I buy them solely to help the economy and to spare the sensitivities of my delicate neighbors who most assuredly would carp and cavil at the horror of seeing too much of me; a man who thought he was completely satisfactorily (un) dressed at birth. And has never wavered on this point, making sure to seize every opportunity to look one's best and most natural by shedding clothes like so many autumn leaves.
You get the picture.
I have become a "cause"... something discussed... considered... evaluated and -- horrors -- advised; advice being something which I alone own and have the right to proffer, as a commentator. It is insufferable... and so to get the discussion back where it well and truly belongs -- to my always limpid, insightful, and, yes, lyric prose... my particular forte, I resolved to get up and out of my curial arm chair; the style developed for the consuls of ancient Rome, and thus entirely suitable for me, for whom every gesture of the imperial Caesars is holy and revived.
The hour was early, early, the weather deleterious and wet.
I own I did consider the matter (fleetingly but completely) about whether to venture out, but I concluded that the well meant yapping of all and sundry would never cease until I made a gesture (however insincere) to the well-meaning, something to close the case and shut them up.
Then, earlier than usual, I saw the Boston Globe at my door and two stories on the front page any other day I would have stopped to read, whether I was wearing a towel -- or not. Commentators have their rights and privileges, you know. And so I left the Honorable Sarah's decision not to burden the nation with a campaign which, above all else, would have caused national regret that we ever bought Alaska, "Seward's Folly" well and truly named. She could wait.
The death of Steve Jobs, of Apple fame, screamed out for my erudite comments, one of my celebrated "Appreciations for the life and work of...." But this, too, would have to wait. He, at least, deserves the best of which my pen is capable... though I never owned or wanted his celebrated machine.
Out I went.
The first thing I noticed how, well before the dawn, the streets are as busy as rush hour. That was a revelation... and a double caution. For openers for the season's first black ice. Then, secondly, for the need to look carefully to avoid either falling into one of the deep crevasses of the side walk which, when covered by the snow whose arrival will be all too soon, could be deadly ... or being crushed into eternity by the all-too-numerous traffic. I had no idea...
But the traffic forced me to heed the traffic signals... and one glance compelled another. These signals, glazed with the rain of the night and the mists of the morning, glistened; thereby proving that even in the most utilitarian of objects there is beauty... if one takes a minute to pause, observe -- and sniff.
I walked into Harvard Square which, our own Times Square, never sleeps, not least because it harbors a wide population of the homeless and down trodden. One perhaps sensing (with the practised eye of one who lives or dies by such observations) that I was a "friendly" stepped out of the alcove of the Harvard COOP, a bold movement at any other time I would have ignored.
... But he looked cold, hungry and (important) harmless. How fast such decisions are made for all that they can change lives.
I asked him the superfluous question about whether he was hungry and, not having a penny on me, invited him to breakfast chez moi, audacious for me to offer; audacious for him to accept. And so my encounter with Matt, aged 31, (I guessed 23) commenced. It was a story of better times; then actions and events which cost him everything. But the story I saw was in the bafflement in his eyes and a smile which was once entirely compelling; now just a residue. He came, he ate, he talked of his journeys. Then he told me that God is in each charitable act and that God would bless me this day.
And so he went, and though I gave him my card and told him to return if necessary, I sensed I should never see him again; thus he will never know of this article.
But he was right, God blessed me today with these words, and I was, therefore, not irritated or insulted when he, at the door, asked for $5; I gave him $10. He said it would pay for washing his weary clothes. May it do him some good and me, too.
Now go to any search engine and find "Chance Encounter". One is coming soon to change your life, too.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.
Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com. Check out Affiliate Ownage -> http://www.ActionEqualsProfit.com/?rd=ap3AHggG
Please leave a comment!
I personally reply to all !
Come on in at
http://www.worldprofit.com Sign in as a FREE associate. See what we do! Meet and chat with the Master himself!
Let US add you to our VIP list for our DAILY LIVE WEBCAST!
FREE now to the first 20 comments, I will GUARANTEE you
50,000 visitors to the website of YOUR choice!
You do need to come on in and visit us, for this phenomenal
offer!
Please include some kind of commentary, saying only
“Thanks for posting” is not a comment on my articles!
Chance of a Lifetime to actually meet and chat with Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Any questions? email me personally at lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com
Could you use 50.000 free visitors to a website of Your choice?
Give me a call and Find out How!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
phone:310-561-2580 http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Thank you for stopping by, and Please Come again!
Lawrence Rinke
Business Coach
President : ActionEqualsProfit.com
Join Me On Skype: lawrence.rinke
P.S., If you would like content like this free to use in your blog to generate leads .Give me a call at 310-561-2580, I’d be glad to tell you how, or Leave phone number in comment. . I respond immediately to all comments.
Thanks Again
LCR
I wish to thank each and everyone of you who read this “Blog” and those who take the time out of their busy day to comment. We are only just getting started here. So please do keep reading and especially making comments. The direction of this “Blog” comes from you and the comments that you impart to us. Today’s “Blog:..First autumn ice, a man named Matt who spoke of God and blessed me, and a gladness for chance encounters.
So as I mentioned to you above. Comment, Comment, Comment. Your opinionhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif matters so make it known. Until Tomorrow. You can reach me by email lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com; cell phone 310-561-2580, or Skype me at lawence.rinke http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif . And I want to hear from each and EVERY one of YOU!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's Program Note. How's your knowledge of Korean pop music? I thought so and yet Song Gol Mae produced in 1981 the perfect song for this article. It's called "Chance Encounter"... and in this dangerous world most of us assiduously avoid them, the odds of catastrophe going up, we reckon, as we -- and the earth -- age together.
http://youtu.be/SRKgnvML9T4
And yet... chance encounters intrigue us... entertain us... bemuse and make us wonder whether there is a thing called "fate"... and what else it has in store for us.
Why I went out so early today, well before the dawn...
My colleagues, my family, my friends and even some of the millions of people who do me the honor of reading whatever's on my mind as it morphs into electronic and paper printed articles... these folks have been ganging up on me for some time now. Here's just a sample of what they pepper me with early and late; all for my own good of course:
"All work and no play..." (an aphorism so well known in our overworked day that no one ever finishes it; so I shall: "make Jack a dull boy." (I wouldn't know, since I prune dull boys from my acquaintance with deft alacrity, especially those named Jack).
"You know you ARE over 60, old man; slow down and smell the roses"... or the coffee... or whatever they deem worthy of slowing down for and sniffing. For the record, I detest coffee, always have, and think that a substance silent but deadly should shroud all who imbibe it, the more so because those who drink it cannot resist discussing it, reliving every drop they have ever had... ad nauseam... As for roses, ever since the florist industry had the brainchild of breeding roses without scent, I have transferred my respect, admiration -- and nose -- to other flora which shall not be mentioned here, lest the florists again take aim at that scent, too. Mum's the word.
"You've got more money than God. Why don't you spend some it, Scrooge?" They little know that I'm wildly extravagant about what I like... and parsimonious to a degree about things I don't. Clothes, for instance, being in my book a complete waste of money; I buy them solely to help the economy and to spare the sensitivities of my delicate neighbors who most assuredly would carp and cavil at the horror of seeing too much of me; a man who thought he was completely satisfactorily (un) dressed at birth. And has never wavered on this point, making sure to seize every opportunity to look one's best and most natural by shedding clothes like so many autumn leaves.
You get the picture.
I have become a "cause"... something discussed... considered... evaluated and -- horrors -- advised; advice being something which I alone own and have the right to proffer, as a commentator. It is insufferable... and so to get the discussion back where it well and truly belongs -- to my always limpid, insightful, and, yes, lyric prose... my particular forte, I resolved to get up and out of my curial arm chair; the style developed for the consuls of ancient Rome, and thus entirely suitable for me, for whom every gesture of the imperial Caesars is holy and revived.
The hour was early, early, the weather deleterious and wet.
I own I did consider the matter (fleetingly but completely) about whether to venture out, but I concluded that the well meant yapping of all and sundry would never cease until I made a gesture (however insincere) to the well-meaning, something to close the case and shut them up.
Then, earlier than usual, I saw the Boston Globe at my door and two stories on the front page any other day I would have stopped to read, whether I was wearing a towel -- or not. Commentators have their rights and privileges, you know. And so I left the Honorable Sarah's decision not to burden the nation with a campaign which, above all else, would have caused national regret that we ever bought Alaska, "Seward's Folly" well and truly named. She could wait.
The death of Steve Jobs, of Apple fame, screamed out for my erudite comments, one of my celebrated "Appreciations for the life and work of...." But this, too, would have to wait. He, at least, deserves the best of which my pen is capable... though I never owned or wanted his celebrated machine.
Out I went.
The first thing I noticed how, well before the dawn, the streets are as busy as rush hour. That was a revelation... and a double caution. For openers for the season's first black ice. Then, secondly, for the need to look carefully to avoid either falling into one of the deep crevasses of the side walk which, when covered by the snow whose arrival will be all too soon, could be deadly ... or being crushed into eternity by the all-too-numerous traffic. I had no idea...
But the traffic forced me to heed the traffic signals... and one glance compelled another. These signals, glazed with the rain of the night and the mists of the morning, glistened; thereby proving that even in the most utilitarian of objects there is beauty... if one takes a minute to pause, observe -- and sniff.
I walked into Harvard Square which, our own Times Square, never sleeps, not least because it harbors a wide population of the homeless and down trodden. One perhaps sensing (with the practised eye of one who lives or dies by such observations) that I was a "friendly" stepped out of the alcove of the Harvard COOP, a bold movement at any other time I would have ignored.
... But he looked cold, hungry and (important) harmless. How fast such decisions are made for all that they can change lives.
I asked him the superfluous question about whether he was hungry and, not having a penny on me, invited him to breakfast chez moi, audacious for me to offer; audacious for him to accept. And so my encounter with Matt, aged 31, (I guessed 23) commenced. It was a story of better times; then actions and events which cost him everything. But the story I saw was in the bafflement in his eyes and a smile which was once entirely compelling; now just a residue. He came, he ate, he talked of his journeys. Then he told me that God is in each charitable act and that God would bless me this day.
And so he went, and though I gave him my card and told him to return if necessary, I sensed I should never see him again; thus he will never know of this article.
But he was right, God blessed me today with these words, and I was, therefore, not irritated or insulted when he, at the door, asked for $5; I gave him $10. He said it would pay for washing his weary clothes. May it do him some good and me, too.
Now go to any search engine and find "Chance Encounter". One is coming soon to change your life, too.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Dr. Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books.
Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com. Check out Affiliate Ownage -> http://www.ActionEqualsProfit.com/?rd=ap3AHggG
Please leave a comment!
I personally reply to all !
Come on in at
http://www.worldprofit.com Sign in as a FREE associate. See what we do! Meet and chat with the Master himself!
Let US add you to our VIP list for our DAILY LIVE WEBCAST!
FREE now to the first 20 comments, I will GUARANTEE you
50,000 visitors to the website of YOUR choice!
You do need to come on in and visit us, for this phenomenal
offer!
Please include some kind of commentary, saying only
“Thanks for posting” is not a comment on my articles!
Chance of a Lifetime to actually meet and chat with Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Any questions? email me personally at lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com
Could you use 50.000 free visitors to a website of Your choice?
Give me a call and Find out How!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
phone:310-561-2580 http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Thank you for stopping by, and Please Come again!
Lawrence Rinke
Business Coach
President : ActionEqualsProfit.com
Join Me On Skype: lawrence.rinke
P.S., If you would like content like this free to use in your blog to generate leads .Give me a call at 310-561-2580, I’d be glad to tell you how, or Leave phone number in comment. . I respond immediately to all comments.
Thanks Again
LCR
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Two brothers, one knife, a lifetime of unbearable regret.
“Wow! I’m ecstatic to tell you that I’ve snagged another one of Dr. Lant’s superb articles.”
I wish to thank each and everyone of you who read this “Blog” and those who take the time out of their busy day to comment. We are only just getting started here. So please do keep reading and especially making comments. The direction of this “Blog” comes from you and the comments that you impart to us. Today’s “Blog:..Two brothers, one knife, a lifetime of unbearable regret.
So as I mentioned to you above. Comment, Comment, Comment. Your opinionhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif matters so make it known. Until Tomorrow. You can reach me by email lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com; cell phone 310-561-2580, or Skype me at lawence.rinke http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif . And I want to hear from each and EVERY one of YOU!
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. For this story of love, white hot rage, murder and unending, pitiable, heart-rending grief, a suite from Prokofiev's profoundly moving ballet "Romeo and Juliet" (1935) is necessary. You will want the scene between Romeo and his best friend Mercutio, the scene in which Romeo's ungovernable passion and rage overcome every sentiment of affection, friendship and humanity. The music is strong, pulsating, insistent...
Mercutio attempts to bring peace between squabbling Tybalt and Romeo, only to be stabbed by Romeo.... an outrage with an ocean of consequence. For Tybalt, Mercutio's kinsman, soon to be killed by Romeo... for Romeo himself ... for Juliet... for the families... and for history.
"Mercutio's dead; That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth."
Whereupon Romeo responds:
"This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe others must end."
(Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet.")
And so it was for the best of brothers, Andrew, living, andhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif Richard, untimely dead.
Go to any search engine. If you can, find the selection featuring Rudolf Nureyev in his role as Romeo in the 1989 Bolshoi production. It is overpowering, just like the adolescent rage you are about to discover, appalled
Two brothers, two friends.
Any man with a brother knows this: that such brothers argue, even if they are the best of friends. They argue about who's turn it is to take out the garbage. They argue about whose sweater it was and who was responsible for ruining it. They argue about the dog that needs walking... and who left the water on in the bath tub (that notable flood)... they argue about everything, about nothing, because they like each other and because (just now) they don't.
They are brothers... and so they argue. And make up. Only to argue some more. Yes, it is what brothers -- all brothers -- do.
So the events of October 2, 2011 did not seem odd, unusual, or different in any way. Brothers exist. Brothers argue.
And so this normal occurrence might have stayed unexceptional until with the devil's own inspiration Andrew, 18, picked up a large steak knife... wielding it with adolescent swagger... adolescent vigor... adolescent insolence... adolescent thoughtlessness... and absolutely no understanding that the deed he was about to do, felt compelled to do, could never be undone... and thus pierced his brother's heart... and in that instant broke his own, radiating pain and, in that instant, forever changing the lives of parents, friends, relations... all caught off guard and unprepared for the terrible news and its terrible consequences.
There was blood everywhere. And Andrew snapped back, in an instant jumping from the boy of purpose and resolution mad with the determination to do the most terrible thing of his brief life... to the horrified individual who had in his blood-soaked arms his brother....
And now he saw what, just a moment before, he could not see and what he would now see every minute for the duration of his human existence. He saw the bloody face of his brother Richard... with a look of wonder, amazement, confusion, and fear for what had happened and where he was going. For he was leaving this world at the hands of his brother, en route for a place his brother sent him but to which this brother could not yet go.
Andrew, now hysterical and painfully aware, applied pressure to his brother's wound... but the blood did not stop, could not stop. He was mad with horror... grief... and above all with the reality that he had done all this.
Richard had now a different destination... as Andrew, frantic, pressed down upon the wound, to stop the flow of the blood which would not be stopped.
By now concerned neighbors were aware something was wrong at the Morales house and called the police. What they found was Richard Morales, Jr., age 22, in his final moments on earth... and his brother Andrew... who will wish many times that he, condemned to life, had made the eternal journey, too.
"Yes, I did it," he told police who surveyed the scene with practised eye, just minutes before a home, dedicated to peace and serenity, now a charnel house where young passions had clashed... and delivered death to the one, the deepest despair to the other. Why had this happened? You would have laughed at the trivial cause... but for the carnage and the conclusion. It happened because brothers will tease... brothers will taunt... brothers will rough house... brothers will not stop when asked... and when asked to do a thing will, out of devilment, do the exact reverse...
Richard clearly had been, remember, just a moment before, in a mood to aggravate, and no one better than a brother knows the myriad of ways to do so. It started because Richard sat upon Andrew's fresh-made bed... and was roundly told by Andrew to get his unwashed body off that bed... and out of his room. The one had thrown down the gauntlet, as so many times before, the other was duty bound to pick it up... and immemorial war, commenced by Cain and Abel, flared up on nondescript Berrington Road in Leominster, Massachusetts.
It was Sunday,the brothers had nothing to do... and so they did what brothers have always done -- engage, infuriate, enrage. Richard threw his dirty clothes on Andrew; then, the battle fast moving and escalating in prescribed fashion, Richard threw Andrew's computer at him... and here the encounter morphed into what was about to be death.
In this moment everything that Andrew needed was not present... and so he was thrown back upon the elements within... and these elements, strong in the young, released a dark force he may not even have known he had... a force demanding respect, appreciation and his just regard.
"Good kids," no signs of trouble, complete surprise.
A family grieves this day, a community wonders why they had seen nothing. But, in fact, there was nothing to see and no way of knowing, for everything that happened that fateful Sunday in New England had happened before... but for the tragic mischance that the knife was at hand... never before threatened... now ready to be used.
Genesis 4:8 "And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.
4:9 And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?
4:10 And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground...
4:13 And Cain said unto the LORD, My punishment is greater than I can bear. "
But a merciful God will give him the strength he will need for the long and lonely years to come... the fruit of a moment's error and a beloved brother's gibes and raucous mockery.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Jeffrey Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com. Check out Fast Fan Pages -> http://www.ActionEqualsProfit.com/?rd=ga7WfvqP
Please leave a comment!
I personally reply to all !
Come on in at
http://www.worldprofit.com Sign in as a FREE associate. See what we do! Meet and chat with the Master himself!
Let US add you to our VIP list for our DAILY LIVE WEBCAST!
FREE now to the first 20 comments, I will GUARANTEE you
50,000 visitors to the website of YOUR choice!
You do need to come on in and visit us, for this phenomenal
offer!
Please include some kind of commentary, saying only
“Thanks for posting” is not a comment on my articles!
Chance of a Lifetime to actually meet and chat with Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Any questions? email me personally at lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com
Could you use 50.000 free visitors to a website of Your choice?
Give me a call and Find out How!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
phone:310-561-2580 http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Thank you for stopping by, and Please Come again!
Lawrence Rinke
Business Coach
President : ActionEqualsProfit.com
Join Me On Skype: lawrence.rinke
P.S., If you would like content like this free to use in your blog to generate leads .Give me a call at 310-561-2580, I’d be glad to tell you how, or Leave phone number in comment. . I respond immediately to all comments.
Thanks Again
LCR
I wish to thank each and everyone of you who read this “Blog” and those who take the time out of their busy day to comment. We are only just getting started here. So please do keep reading and especially making comments. The direction of this “Blog” comes from you and the comments that you impart to us. Today’s “Blog:..Two brothers, one knife, a lifetime of unbearable regret.
So as I mentioned to you above. Comment, Comment, Comment. Your opinionhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif matters so make it known. Until Tomorrow. You can reach me by email lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com; cell phone 310-561-2580, or Skype me at lawence.rinke http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif . And I want to hear from each and EVERY one of YOU!
By Dr. Jeffrey Lant
Author's program note. For this story of love, white hot rage, murder and unending, pitiable, heart-rending grief, a suite from Prokofiev's profoundly moving ballet "Romeo and Juliet" (1935) is necessary. You will want the scene between Romeo and his best friend Mercutio, the scene in which Romeo's ungovernable passion and rage overcome every sentiment of affection, friendship and humanity. The music is strong, pulsating, insistent...
Mercutio attempts to bring peace between squabbling Tybalt and Romeo, only to be stabbed by Romeo.... an outrage with an ocean of consequence. For Tybalt, Mercutio's kinsman, soon to be killed by Romeo... for Romeo himself ... for Juliet... for the families... and for history.
"Mercutio's dead; That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, Which too untimely here did scorn the earth."
Whereupon Romeo responds:
"This day's black fate on more days doth depend; This but begins the woe others must end."
(Shakespeare, "Romeo and Juliet.")
And so it was for the best of brothers, Andrew, living, andhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif Richard, untimely dead.
Go to any search engine. If you can, find the selection featuring Rudolf Nureyev in his role as Romeo in the 1989 Bolshoi production. It is overpowering, just like the adolescent rage you are about to discover, appalled
Two brothers, two friends.
Any man with a brother knows this: that such brothers argue, even if they are the best of friends. They argue about who's turn it is to take out the garbage. They argue about whose sweater it was and who was responsible for ruining it. They argue about the dog that needs walking... and who left the water on in the bath tub (that notable flood)... they argue about everything, about nothing, because they like each other and because (just now) they don't.
They are brothers... and so they argue. And make up. Only to argue some more. Yes, it is what brothers -- all brothers -- do.
So the events of October 2, 2011 did not seem odd, unusual, or different in any way. Brothers exist. Brothers argue.
And so this normal occurrence might have stayed unexceptional until with the devil's own inspiration Andrew, 18, picked up a large steak knife... wielding it with adolescent swagger... adolescent vigor... adolescent insolence... adolescent thoughtlessness... and absolutely no understanding that the deed he was about to do, felt compelled to do, could never be undone... and thus pierced his brother's heart... and in that instant broke his own, radiating pain and, in that instant, forever changing the lives of parents, friends, relations... all caught off guard and unprepared for the terrible news and its terrible consequences.
There was blood everywhere. And Andrew snapped back, in an instant jumping from the boy of purpose and resolution mad with the determination to do the most terrible thing of his brief life... to the horrified individual who had in his blood-soaked arms his brother....
And now he saw what, just a moment before, he could not see and what he would now see every minute for the duration of his human existence. He saw the bloody face of his brother Richard... with a look of wonder, amazement, confusion, and fear for what had happened and where he was going. For he was leaving this world at the hands of his brother, en route for a place his brother sent him but to which this brother could not yet go.
Andrew, now hysterical and painfully aware, applied pressure to his brother's wound... but the blood did not stop, could not stop. He was mad with horror... grief... and above all with the reality that he had done all this.
Richard had now a different destination... as Andrew, frantic, pressed down upon the wound, to stop the flow of the blood which would not be stopped.
By now concerned neighbors were aware something was wrong at the Morales house and called the police. What they found was Richard Morales, Jr., age 22, in his final moments on earth... and his brother Andrew... who will wish many times that he, condemned to life, had made the eternal journey, too.
"Yes, I did it," he told police who surveyed the scene with practised eye, just minutes before a home, dedicated to peace and serenity, now a charnel house where young passions had clashed... and delivered death to the one, the deepest despair to the other. Why had this happened? You would have laughed at the trivial cause... but for the carnage and the conclusion. It happened because brothers will tease... brothers will taunt... brothers will rough house... brothers will not stop when asked... and when asked to do a thing will, out of devilment, do the exact reverse...
Richard clearly had been, remember, just a moment before, in a mood to aggravate, and no one better than a brother knows the myriad of ways to do so. It started because Richard sat upon Andrew's fresh-made bed... and was roundly told by Andrew to get his unwashed body off that bed... and out of his room. The one had thrown down the gauntlet, as so many times before, the other was duty bound to pick it up... and immemorial war, commenced by Cain and Abel, flared up on nondescript Berrington Road in Leominster, Massachusetts.
It was Sunday,the brothers had nothing to do... and so they did what brothers have always done -- engage, infuriate, enrage. Richard threw his dirty clothes on Andrew; then, the battle fast moving and escalating in prescribed fashion, Richard threw Andrew's computer at him... and here the encounter morphed into what was about to be death.
In this moment everything that Andrew needed was not present... and so he was thrown back upon the elements within... and these elements, strong in the young, released a dark force he may not even have known he had... a force demanding respect, appreciation and his just regard.
"Good kids," no signs of trouble, complete surprise.
A family grieves this day, a community wonders why they had seen nothing. But, in fact, there was nothing to see and no way of knowing, for everything that happened that fateful Sunday in New England had happened before... but for the tragic mischance that the knife was at hand... never before threatened... now ready to be used.
Genesis 4:8 "And Cain talked with Abel his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him.
4:9 And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?
4:10 And he said, What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me from the ground...
4:13 And Cain said unto the LORD, My punishment is greater than I can bear. "
But a merciful God will give him the strength he will need for the long and lonely years to come... the fruit of a moment's error and a beloved brother's gibes and raucous mockery.
About the Author
Harvard-educated Dr. Jeffrey Lant is CEO of Worldprofit, Inc., providing a wide range of online services for small and-home based businesses. Jeffrey Lant is also the author of 18 best-selling business books. Republished with author's permission by Lawrence Rinke http://ActionEqualsProfit.com. Check out Fast Fan Pages -> http://www.ActionEqualsProfit.com/?rd=ga7WfvqP
Please leave a comment!
I personally reply to all !
Come on in at
http://www.worldprofit.com Sign in as a FREE associate. See what we do! Meet and chat with the Master himself!
Let US add you to our VIP list for our DAILY LIVE WEBCAST!
FREE now to the first 20 comments, I will GUARANTEE you
50,000 visitors to the website of YOUR choice!
You do need to come on in and visit us, for this phenomenal
offer!
Please include some kind of commentary, saying only
“Thanks for posting” is not a comment on my articles!
Chance of a Lifetime to actually meet and chat with Dr. Jeffrey Lant.
Any questions? email me personally at lrewhomebusiness@gmail.com
Could you use 50.000 free visitors to a website of Your choice?
Give me a call and Find out How!
http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
phone:310-561-2580 http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
Thank you for stopping by, and Please Come again!
Lawrence Rinke
Business Coach
President : ActionEqualsProfit.com
Join Me On Skype: lawrence.rinke
P.S., If you would like content like this free to use in your blog to generate leads .Give me a call at 310-561-2580, I’d be glad to tell you how, or Leave phone number in comment. . I respond immediately to all comments.
Thanks Again
LCR
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)