Castro
Nomads-
Content Count
5,287 -
Joined
-
Last visited
Content Type
Profiles
Forums
Calendar
Everything posted by Castro
-
You didn't get it? Some codetalker. Or do you just talk code and not comprehend it. Read it again and tell me if it ridicules: 1) Cats 2) People who own cats 3) Christianity 4) Jesus (pbuh) Comprehension, good Yeniceri, comprehension.
-
Khayr has lost his moral compass. Engaging in gardening is a kaafir activity that encourages MORAL RELATIVISM. Indeed, it's behavior unbecoming a Muslim nomad. Here's more manure for you good Khayr.
-
^ Invest? Come on Danyer, atheer you possess more sense than that. Exactly who will be pulling up into the 150-car parking lot? Technicals? What about the CCTV? Is that for shoplifters? Who's gonna eat in the food court? The starving and thirsty masses? Let's get real. This is capitalism learnt in America that's gone bad. I personally know someone (a doctor) who opened a medical clinic back home. They charge a fair and accessible price to make a living but more importantly, they provide an invaluable service for all those who are sick. That's a brilliant business opportunity if one has the bloody money to build a bloody "shopping" fcukin center. Another good idea is to build private schools since no public education exists. With it they can make a decent living off of it and provide another invaluable service to many. These clinics and schools would really be no profit as they would barely cover their expenses and hence would need the help of angel investeors and donors. Ask me to donate to a bloody mall that sells things no one needs or can afford and I say: "Gimme a ooucc".
-
^ And where have you been hiding? Originally posted by naden: ThePoint, Our back and forth is at risk of becoming masturbatory and a little tedious. I knew you two were up to no good. Good job guys. A lot of people were enjoying your "back and forth" and I'm one of them.
-
I can't say I'm not enjoying this. Good for the empire.
-
People often ask me when they should teach the Good News to their housecats. I have but one answer: "What are you waiting for?" A pet is a beloved part of your family, and as a Christian, you should do everything you can to guarantee that this valued member of your family receives the glorious eternal reward for which Christ gave His very life. Think of the alternative: your cat mired in darkness for eternity because you put off a 10-minute conversation. My own cats accepted Jesus into their hearts before they even opened their eyes. The light of salvation has brightened their lives, but perhaps the most noticeable change has been in me. I am filled with warmth knowing their eternal souls have been saved. Kittens' hearts, at birth, are filled with what theologians call "original mischief." Mischief, if left to grow on its own, can sprout into evil. That's why you must fill their hearts with Jesus instead. If you wait, your cats might find seductive role models among the back-alley strays and rough felines from the wrong side of town. You could also end up with an unwanted pregnancy. That's why it's so very, very important to tell your cats about the life, crucifixion, and resurrection of Jesus as early as possible. The Nicene Creed is a good place to start: Recite it to them when they are about 10 weeks old. Remember: If you give a cat a fish, it eats for a day. If you teach a cat to fish, it eats for a lifetime. Perhaps that's not such a good proverb to use in this case, since fishing is actually instinctual in cats. But Jesus is not. Your kitties need to know early on that there is a fisher of men and cats alike who can save their souls. A lot of people say, "Oh, but Whiskers doesn't even answer to his name yet." They raise a good point: Sometimes you have to teach your cat at its own level. If you give your cat a rubber Jesus to play with, it will sense that there's more to this toy. If you give it a scratching cross, it will contemplate Christ's love and ultimate sacrifice while it stretches and sharpens its claws. I myself have put an image of Jesus at the bottom of my cats' food bowls. That way, when they finish their food, the face of He who provided it is revealed unto them. Teaching your cats the Gospel of Christ isn't just important for their eternal souls, it is also the only way to ensure that they know an eternity of damnation awaits them if they scratch your favorite chair. Before they cough up a hairball on the rug or leave a dead mouse on the doorstep, they'll know—without being scolded—that they had better watch it, as a Final Judgment awaits at the hands of the Lord. Of course, once your cat has accepted the Lord in its heart, it's ready to be baptized. The righteous cat is one that is born again in the eyes of the Lord. People think that baptism is a rite that requires a fancy baptismal font and a preacher, but that's simply not true. Just fill your bathtub with water, say a little invocation over it, ask your cat if it rejects Satan and all his evil, and then dunk it. Make sure it is fully immersed, in accordance with Scripture. So now, all you have to do is choose your cat's baptismal name. My cats' birth names were Meowser, Fluff, and Mr. Boots, but their baptismal names are Ezekiel, Caleb, and Mr. Paws. Remember, a cat may have nine lives, but it only has one eternal soul. We all must one day appear before the Holy Seat Of Judgment, and although my Oliver and Lady Twinkles passed on long ago from this vale of tears, I take solace in the knowledge that, when the time comes for me to receive the ecstasies of Heaven, all of my housecats will be waiting to spend eternity on my lap. And don't get your cats vaccinated, either. The Lord will provide protection from feline leukemia. Source
-
^ Even more issues I didn't think of. Patience is asked of women, indeed, more than it is asked of men. It's as if men are naturally impatient. I can accept naturally more horny but impatient? Please. It's the lamest excuse in the book. eNuri, come out, come out wherever you are.
-
^ According to the below definitions, you don't qualify. Sorry to dissapoint you. Unless he's calling you uncivilized. hea·then n. pl. hea·thens or heathen 1. One who adheres to the religion of a people or nation that does not acknowledge the God of Judaism, Christianity, or Islam. 2. One who is regarded as irreligious, uncivilized, or unenlightened. Originally posted by WILDCAT: reckon you could top me...? And you don't wanna ask strangers that question.
-
Originally posted by Zaylici: The language you used lacks civility; this forum has edited some of your work. So, moderate your tone and attack opponents with some reservation. Do not comfirm the thesis of your opponent: you are dominated by irrational emotions and dogmatic assertion coupled with fanaticim. I too am astonished Sophist would use such vulgarity. Why it wasn't even a month or two ago that he was reproaching me for cursing at what the British think. I suppose his standards have fallen since. Originally posted by Sophist: Castro; comportment dear boy for without manners one becomes utterly feral!!!!
-
^ I think Naden was right about Modesty. She's living in a cocoon and should begin the proceedings of relinquishing that American passport so she could eat from those restaurants with great food in her little oasis in Somalia. And where is she again? Anyone have the GPS coordinates? :rolleyes: Blessed, when are you going to Somalia/land?
-
It's deduction on my part for sure. I can't possibly look into Nur's heart. With that said, let Nur weigh in on the issue again. May be that's what he had planned all along: that we would discuss the issue and let the understanding follow. One can only hope. Peace saaxib.
-
Originally posted by Red Sea Casse: I won't be critical but is there any doubt that the end of the world is near? because from Hargeysa to Galkacayo people are building shopping centers, hotels, villas etc. while many people can't find drop of water to drink for the sake of their lives. Not to mention universities that rank 39th in Africa. :rolleyes:
-
Fair enough atheer. Let's take that bull by the horns. Originally posted by xiinfaniin: the question is not weather there is a moratorium on polygamy or not, rather the issue is about the acceptance of polygamy as a solution to a number of social ills, saaxiib. The social ills are women outnumbering men in times of war (though one could contend Somali women are dying at fairly the same rate as their male counterparts), illicit sex and prostitution. I don't see how asking a Xalimo who's husband left her with five children for a second wife to be patient and do dhikr solves any social ills saaxib. Furthermore, shouldn't men who are the promoters and beneficiaries of prostitution get some posts from Nur instead of being rewarded with reminders of polygamy? Finally, accepting Allah's allowance of polygamy is often thrown about without remembering that He also strongly discourages the practice for the difficulty, nay impossbility, of being fair among multiple wives. The allowance of polygamy and the near impossibility of doing justice among multiple wives must be mentioned in the same breath. Nur neglected the latter and highlighted the former. An innocent omission? Perhaps. But with the incredible resistence of the audience to the idea (while still accepting Allah's ordinance), it behooves Nur to mention the very strict conditions under which it is allowed. Alas, brother Nur made this into a sort of take-it-or-leave-it deal for women. To be fair and balanced, Nur should have mentioned the difficulty of implementing polygamy and admonished men who run for it leaving their families behind. Let me highlight his own words: 1. Dhiker Policy This policy insures your husband that nothing bad will happen to him, ( Another Marriage isnt necessarily bad ) , the more Dhiker you make, the better you will feel, to the point that you find enjoyment in Dhiker that you can never get from the company of your hubby. A great policy on its own but when coupled with the jive of the highlighted portions it becomes triviliazed and the wives are nearly being ridiculed here. 2. Dedication-to-A Cause Policy You can join e-Nuri staff, help publish good articles, resend good inspirational posts to those sick souls around you, and find company and happiness in helping other Halimo's gain their sanity back after losing their hubby to anothet younger xaliimo back home . This is the proverbial salt on the open wound, saaxib, would you not agree? 3. Love-Of-Allah policy By far this is the most secure policy, no Xaliimo who ever bought this policy felt jealous, after all, once the love of Allah fully occupies your heart, there is no space left for any Faarax to hurt you. The pain you go through in jealousy is a form of punishment for not loving Allah SWT. Love of Allah SWT is really cool, try it, wallahi, you will feel sorry for those who have not felt this high state of Devine love which dwarfs all of your worries. A great policy indeed but one that is a red-herring in this specific matter at hand. The removal of jealousy via the love of Allah is a goal in and of itself. It is not just to ease the unnecessary pain, in this day and age, of "losing their hubby to another younger xaliimo back home". Nur should easily understand the justifiable hostility from the very audience members to whom his message is intended. If he can't, then he's in the wrong business. I still give him A+ for effort and a D- for content, delivery and the Q&A session on the polygamy issue. And that's that.
-
^ Look what the cat dragged in. Are you scared of joining that thread?
-
^ Why don't you join eNuri and become his secretary of women affairs? Light a candle, dear, instead of cursing the dark. The latter should be left for the bitter geriatrics like me.
-
^ Valiant effort, good Xiin, but Nur needs no armor for he's not under any attack. Do you know, and would support, if a temporary moratorium on polygamy can be imposed on Somalis? Just because it's allowed doesn't mean it should be encouraged or paraded saaxib. No?
-
This is very interesting and naden, I believe, has met her match. Keep going please.
-
^ It's called Harari Hallucinations good Northerner. Also known as Mirqaan. LOL.
-
^ That's just wrong atheer. I smart, you no smart. There's a spot free on the bacaad over there. Feel like wrestling? We all have different experiences to bring to the table. I think this is quite healthy actually. In India they have something called the "Laughter festival" where thousands upon thousands gather in a big area and just laugh there heads off. Their blood pressure decreases. Their migraines go away (allegedly) and they leave the festival rejuvenated to tackle the problems of life. Highly therapeutic and I recommend it. SOL is the "Shouting festival" of nomads. I read all that's said and I'm happy to see most of it. We've come a long way. We just need to iron out some details, that's all.
-
^ I'd say your spotlight makes Naden appear prone to violence ( ) not bigotry. Or were you thinking of yourself? Ok. So naden has some steam to blow but her arguments are fairly solid. If you're able to point out any cracks in them, I assure you it will be something all of us could benefit from (including naden). What really bothers you about her? Is it the message, the medium or the messenger? And contrary to what's been happening lately on SOL, only the first one (the message) are you really allowed to engage, by the way.
-
Originally posted by Northerner: Of the 10,000 Somalis living in Wales - 8,000 in Cardiff - around 99% are from what is now Somaliland. Now that's what I call effective lobbying. Pound for pound, Somalis in Wales must be the most politically astute maryooley in exile anywhere. If only Yeey's junta were just as canny.
-
STOIC, very nice story you put there amid all the shouting. It inspired me to look for another one. Read it here.
-
I am not Safiya from Somalia any more; I am 12-year- old Fatuma flying abroad with her uncle - that is what my mother told me this morning before I was taken to the airport. He is sitting so close to me on the plane now, but never looks at me. When he came to the house last night, my mother told me, go with him and do everything he tells you. If I move my arm I can still feel pain where he held me hard, in the airport, when they were stamping my new document. When I cried for my mother this morning, he shouted at me. She pushed me out of the house, and my heart and my stomach emptied. Now, I can't stop thinking about how we ran together from the war. It runs through my head like the noise of the plane. When we ran together from the guns, we were screaming and falling and dying. But here, every one stares in front of them as the roar of the plane gets louder, and louder. They make no noise. I have never seen so many people with such beautiful clothes sit so still and so quiet: where are they all going? "Passport." That word I understand, but I don't have it - Muhammad the agent took it away when he left me at the telephone box outside the airport. Then he told me to wait until my aunt called. Always tell your story and nothing more, Muhammad told me; otherwise you will be in very big trouble. I stood and watched the telephone for hours, all wet from the icy rain, until someone brought a man in uniform. I don't like the way this loud white man keeps waving his finger at me now. My teeth are making noise and my body is shaking, but it makes the big man talk louder when I pull my shawl around my face. I dare not look at him; I cannot talk to him. I think he has arrested me. Where are they taking me? I want to go back home immediately. The translator told me the name of this country and said they would look for my aunt. He asked me to stop crying. He said I should talk to them, and then I would not be in trouble. But he didn't believe I was 12 years old. "Fatuma," he said, "they know you are lying." "You can sleep on the floor." My uncle seems nervous tonight. I know that woman is his girlfriend and I know she will stay the night. All that talking he does - how happy he is to have someone around in this freezing little - hah…jeel baag ku jiraa [yes…I am in prison]. When I say my name is Safiya, he gets so angry! "Fatuma, make tea; Fatuma, bring the food." Does he think if he keeps on saying that name, I will become someone different? Anyway, at least he will be happy tonight. Perhaps he will forget to punish me for trying to telephone my mother again. I hope so. Another day alone; sitting among all these happy, talking children. Is it worse when they look away, or when they look towards me? When that girl stopped me in the corridor, I thought she was going to be my friend. But then, I could see she was talking to her group, her supporters, and not to me. She plucked my clothes. She stuck her face near mine and made stup!d noises. She placed her beautiful black shoe next to my sandals and laughed. When I told her to stop it, she got louder, and closer, and swore at me - so I pushed her back. Well, if I sit here in the classroom and keep quiet, no one will notice me… I love the pictures in this book and the way the white paper looks so clean and smells so new. I could look forever at this one with the photographs of the sea and the desert and the hot sun. That village, with the goats and the camels... "Fatuma!" Now I'm in trouble. I can tell by the way the teacher swings past my chair and sighs when he glances at me. I tried to explain about that girl, but the teacher said he would have to tell my uncle -"We don't behave like that. We don't do things like that in this country". He stands there; I stand here; and we shout. Since he found out about the disco, I don't know how many times we have been over the same thing - my tight trousers, my short hair, my naked shoulders, my boyfriend, my bad friends. Diigad baai haysa [i can't breath anymore]. Then he found one of those letters from school in my bedroom. But I know you well now, uncle, and you won't hit me again. That's why I stand here, with my hand near the telephone, just ready to call for help if you take one more step towards me. Believe me, ha moodin sidii hoore [i am not the same person that I used to be]. So, Hoyo [mother], now I have you back - and you have me. That was my dream! - but I call this a nightmare. "Qaxooti! [refugee]" - he thinks I don't understand that? He carries the knife like it's a new toy, in this wreckage they call a school. When I jump at the sound of shooting, he throws stones at me as if I am a foreigner. I am too scared to go and face these wild, violent children again - they despise me. If you wanted a good Somali girl, then why did you send me away? You want me to cover my head, and look after the house, and marry that old man? - then you wasted your money. I wake up and want to die: the flies, the heat, the gunfire, the gossip and the laughing at me. Mama, I don't want your stup!d rules, and long, endless days at home. There is nothing here for me. I am no longer in your world and I no longer want it. Source
-
^ War hayaay. Runaway....
-
^ Sure. You got a very good point there. At least you and I create a sort of balance. I emphasize the bad side and you remind us of the good side. I can live with that. Downtown eastside you say? Well, let me tell you, I drove a cab there and no one has seen the horror of life in good old Canada like I did. It's true that agony is everywhere but few are self-inflicted like ours. The natives of Canada are under siege. Who's killing us but us, saaxib?