Mathematics gymnastics going on in this thread, eh? Well, let's start with a simple one: solve x²-x-1 = 0.

The sun when he hath spread his rays. And showed his face ten thousand ways, Ten thousand things do then begin, To show the life that they are in. The heaven shows lively art and hue Of sundry shapes and colours new, And laughs upon the earth; anon The earth, as cold as any stone. Wet in the tears of her own kind, 'Gins then to take a joyful mind. For well she feels that out and out The sun doth warm her round about, And dries her children tenderly, And shows them forth full orderly: The mountains high, and how they stand, The valleys and the great main land, The trees, the herbs, the towers strong, The castles and the rivers long.

Originally posted by NGONGE: But is this really THAT much of a shock? Do you not run to the police when you're assaulted or robbed? Does a child not run to its parents when it feels hard done by or abused? Does a believer not seek the mercy and assistance of his creator when feeling oppressed, exploited and depressed? But isn't C&H's approach a valid and less hostile method of seeking God's help? I would think so. Going to the police when one is assaulted doesn't usually involve requesting a total destruction of the assailant, unless one is cerebrally disturbed, but rather the formal legal procedures to get one's due; and when one is robbed, one is usually more concerned about the whereabouts of one's belongings and the means to get them back than the robber's demise. I would say the act of the maniac (depicted in the video) taking a gun and going to Tora Bora to settle a score with superpowers is something of a less to laugh at than the naïve and morally revolting hope of annihilating them by simply wishing death upon them.

Originally posted by Ferguson: Peace is green, and war is famine. Picture(real or photoshop) is for indho ku garaadlayaasha. On the contrary, it's said to be worth a thousand words.

If you enjoyed The Life of Pi, then you would love The God of Small Things. Oh, there was a time when I'd read almost anything that I could get my hands on, but I hardly read any novels these days. I think it's because of the restrictive taste that one acquires over time. I would not have enjoyed now many of the books that I happen to have liked in the past. It's sad to see a childhood passion disappear as a poor little evanescent partiality, isn't it? Makes one wish to have been Peter Pan.

The second picture reminds me of a place called Gog Magog Downs near Cambridge, England. It exactly looks like the Somali side of the border (only bit greener); and, just like Somalia, it's scattered with the remains of dead humans (as result of a devastating war sometime in the past) to the extent that one historian went so far as to say that it's the place where the Trojan war took place between two furious Celtic tribes. Not to say that we Somalis are the real Gog and Magog (and it wouldn't be much of a surprise if it turned out that we indeed are), but if we perished from the world, what would posterity make of our remains and the environment we leave behind? 'Furious tribes' would perhaps be spot-on. But now that I think about it, tooth decay due to khat and skinny legs would deny us fossilisation. The perfect perish. Not a bit of legacy. The picture might not be genuine but it at least has an allegorical significance.