The Ant Philosophy

[MR ORGILAQE]

Farxan man everytime i start seeing you as a Somali that avatar of you reminds me what you are

shame you could have been a good somali

[Muhammad]

Orgileqe, this 1 is 4 u;

 

 

I have heard that a royal prince of short stature and mean presence, whose brothers were tall and good-looking, once saw his father glancing on him with aversion and contempt but he had the shrewdness and penetration to guess the meaning and said: 'O father, a puny intelligent fellow is better than a tall ignorant man, neither is everything bigger in stature higher in price. A sheep is nice to eat and an elephant is carrion.'

The smallest mountain on earth is Jur; nevertheless

It is great with Allah in dignity and station.

 

Hast thou not heard that a lean scholar

One day said to a fat fool:

'Although an Arab horse may be weak

It is thus more worth than a stable full of asses.'

 

The father laughed at this sally, the pillars of the state approved of it, but the brothers felt much aggrieved.

While a man says not a word

His fault and virtue are concealed.

Think not that every desert is empty.

Possibly it may contain a sleeping tiger.

 

I heard that on the said occasion the king was menaced by a powerful enemy and that when the two armies were about to encounter each other, the first who entered the battlefield was the little fellow who said:

'I am not he whose back thou wilt see on the day of battle

But he whom thou shalt behold in dust and blood.

Who himself fights, stakes his own life

In battle but he who flees, the blood of his army.'

 

After uttering these words he rushed among the troops of the enemy, slew several warriors and, returning to his father, made humble obeisance and said:

'O thou, to whom my person appeared contemptible,

Didst not believe in the impetuosity of my valour.

A horse with slender girth is of use

On the day of battle, not a fattened ox.'

 

It is related that the troops of the enemy were numerous, and that the king's, being few, were about to flee, but that the puny youth raised a shout, saying: 'O men, take care not to put on the garments of women.'* These words augmented the rage of the troopers so that they made a unanimous attack and I heard that they gained the victory on the said occasion. The king kissed the head and eyes of his son, took him in his arms and daily augmented his affection till he appointed him to succeed him on the throne. His brothers became envious and placed poison in his food but were perceived by his sister from her apartment, whereon she closed the window violently and the youth, shrewdly guessing the significance of the act, restrained his hands from touching the food, and said: 'It is impossible that men of honour should die, and those who possess none should take their place.'

 

No one goes under the shadow of an owl

Even if the homa should disappear from the world.

This state of affairs having been brought to the notice of the father, he severely reproved the brothers and assigned to each of them a different, but pleasant, district as a place of exile till the confusion was quelled and the quarrel appeased; and it has been said that ten dervishes may sleep under the same blanket but that one country cannot hold two padshahs.

When a pious man eats half a loaf of bread

He bestows the other half upon dervishes.

If a padshah were to conquer the seven climates

He would still in the same way covet another.

The Gulistan of Sa'di

 

By Sa'di

 

Written 1258 A.C.E.

 

 

(*) hablooy - not my words!

 

Amani

[Som@li]

Originally posted by ORGILAQE:

Farxan man everytime i start seeing you as a Somali that avatar of you reminds me what you are

shame you could have been a good somali

lol,,get one avatar 4 me then,,somali one, and BTW, not seen somali man looks like this?

[Muhammad]

A Little Lesson in Chivalry

 

One day, I was walking up to a small grocery store. When I say it was a small store, I should rather say, an older store with old-fashioned “pull-open†doors rather than automated pressure-sensitive ones. As I approached the door, I arrived mere seconds before a young, well-dressed lady sporting casual-business attire. I pulled the door open and stood aside to allow her to pass.

 

She stopped, looked at me rather incredulously, and said in a stern voice, “Don’t hold the door for me because I’m a woman!â€

 

I didn’t want to insult her, so I explained, “I’m not. I’m holding the door because I’m a gentleman.†Then I offered her a smile and continued standing there.

 

That concept caught her by surprise. She stood there for a couple of seconds struggling for words, then I think she understood the difference between patronization and respect. She politely said “Thank you,†and continued into the store.

 

I would like to think that, for one person, I was able to demonstrate that Chivalry is not dead.

— Tracey Gillaspy, Kansas

 

taken from

http://www.chivalrytoday.com/ .

 

[Johnny B]

The Dragon In My Garage

by Carl Sagan

"A fire-breathing dragon lives in my garage"

 

Suppose (I'm following a group therapy approach by the psychologist Richard Franklin) I seriously make such an assertion to you. Surely you'd want to check it out, see for yourself. There have been innumerable stories of dragons over the centuries, but no real evidence. What an opportunity!

 

"Show me," you say. I lead you to my garage. You look inside and see a ladder, empty paint cans, an old tricycle -- but no dragon.

 

"Where's the dragon?" you ask.

 

"Oh, she's right here," I reply, waving vaguely. "I neglected to mention that she's an invisible dragon."

 

You propose spreading flour on the floor of the garage to capture the dragon's footprints.

 

"Good idea," I say, "but this dragon floats in the air."

 

Then you'll use an infrared sensor to detect the invisible fire.

 

"Good idea, but the invisible fire is also heatless."

 

You'll spray-paint the dragon and make her visible.

 

"Good idea, but she's an incorporeal dragon and the paint won't stick." And so on. I counter every physical test you propose with a special explanation of why it won't work.

Now, what's the difference between an invisible, incorporeal, floating dragon who spits heatless fire and no dragon at all ?

[Nephissa]

I'll have a double decaf with a little bit of a flirt

 

You know, at the end of the day, you're either hot or you're not.

 

It looks like I'm not.

 

With my usual bad timing, I walked into Starbucks the other day just in front of a young, tall and blonde bombshell. A goddess.

 

She had a mane of sleek beautiful hair, smooth tanned skin, long legs, and a short skirt and tight T-shirt covering a gorgeous figure.

 

Let's just say I wasn't wearing any of those things.

 

She moved across the room the way a swan glides over water. I felt like a troll. I was limping a little because I had a blister on my heel. As I walked toward the counter I rifled through my purse searching for my wallet, leaving a trail of grocery store receipts and cat-food coupons. Then, when I finally found the wallet, I lost my grip on my purse and dropped it, spilling the contents: my notebook, a mini-umbrella, the car keys, Post-it notes, the dog's leash (so that's where it was) and my cell phone which separated from its battery on impact and skidded in two different directions across the floor.

 

 

Not the smoothest entrance I've ever made, but, certainly not the worst.

 

Despite the commotion, the handsome young barista never glanced my way as he leaned over the counter, totally focused on the beautiful young woman, and asked – in a voice dripping with innuendo – what she would like.

 

She debated aloud whether she should have the passion fruit tea or a high-calorie frozen concoction – with caramel syrup and whipped cream – before she flashed a gorgeous smile and ordered an iced coffee. The barista called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving her face, "One iced coffee for the hot lady."

 

Still chasing my belongings as they scattered across the room, I doubted he would have said that to me if I had been on fire.

 

After she shimmered down to the end of the counter to wait, beautifully, for her iced order, the barista turned to me – the only other person in the place – and asked, "Who was next?"

 

I was at a disadvantage because I was bent at an awkward angle, like I was doing the limbo, trying to fish my favorite pen, which had also fallen out of my purse, from under the display case with the toe of my shoe. When I stood up to place my order, the young man who had been so attentive to the last customer simply repeated what I wanted to the prep person at the other end of the counter and turned away. I don't think his eyes were ever on my face, much less glued to it.

 

Now, I realize there isn't any way to work a flirty comment – even if he had been so inclined – into an order for a decaf, non-fat, "wet" cappuccino with Splenda. And, to be honest, I would have been startled if he had. After all, I'm old enough (almost) to be his mother.

 

But, gee, it smarts a little to be dismissed so easily.

 

I guess at the end of the day - usually a long, long day – what's important is that the coffee is hot. Not me.

 

But I wanted to tell the young man, and the goddess, you shouldn't assume that a woman is all washed up just because she's rounded the top of the hill.

 

Sure women my age are a little frazzled, and tired, and we may be carrying some extra weight. If we drop our purse, the evidence of a busy, and decidedly unglamorous, life is exposed.

 

But we're still alive and breathing.

 

OK, maybe I'm not hot anymore. But don't count me out. I can get there in a flash.

 

Cheryl-anne Millsap

The Spokesman-Review

June 20, 2005

[Muhammad]

The Gift of Insults

 

There once lived a great warrior. Though quite old, he still was able to defeat

 

any challenger. His reputation extended far and wide throughout the land

 

and many students gathered to study under him.

 

One day an infamous young warrior arrived at the village. He was

 

determined to be the first man to defeat the great master. Along with his

 

strength, he had an uncanny ability to spot and exploit any weakness in an

 

opponent. He would wait for his opponent to make the first move, thus

 

revealing a weakness, and then would strike with merciless force and

 

lightning speed. No one had ever lasted with him in a match beyond the first

 

move.

 

Much against the advice of his concerned students, the old master gladly

 

accepted the young warrior's challenge. As the two squared off for battle, the

 

young warrior began to hurl insults at the old master. He threw dirt and spit

 

in his face. For hours he verbally assaulted him with every curse and insult

 

known to mankind. But the old warrior merely stood there motionless and

 

calm. Finally, the young warrior exhausted himself. Knowing he was

 

defeated, he left feeling shamed.

 

Somewhat disappointed that he did not fight the insolent youth, the students

 

gathered around the old master and questioned him. "How could you endure

 

such an indignity? How did you drive him away?"

"If someone comes to give you a gift and you do not receive it," the master

 

replied, "to whom does the gift belong?"

 

unknown author.,

 

--------------------

 

 

Remember, it isn't the snake bite

that does the serious damage;

it's chasing the snake

that drives the poison to the heart."

~ Stephen R. Covey,

[Muhammad]

The Smuggler

 

A clever smuggler came to the border with a donkey. The donkey's back was heavily laden with straw. The official at the border was suspicious and pulled apart the man's bundles till there was straw all around, but not a valuable thing in the straw was found. "But I'm certain you're smuggling something," the official said, as the man crossed the border.

 

Now each day for ten years the man came to the border with a donkey. Although the official searched and searched the straw bundles on the donkey's back, he never could find anything valuable hidden in them.

 

Many years later, after the official had retired, he happened to meet that same smuggler in a marketplace and said, "Please tell me, I beg you. Tell me, what were you smuggling? Tell me, if you can."

 

"Donkeys," said the man.

 

Author unknown (to me)