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Dane Allred examines the "Abundance" of the universe in his list of "1001 Thanks"
Episodes
Monday Feb 27, 2012
Monday Feb 27, 2012
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The Frog King or Iron Heinrich
Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm
In olden times, when wishing still did some good, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, who, indeed, has seen so much, marveled every time it shone upon her face. In the vicinity of the king's castle there was a large, dark forest, and in this forest, beneath an old linden tree, there was a well. In the heat of the day the princess would go out into the forest and sit on the edge of the cool well. To pass the time she would take a golden ball, throw it into the air, and then catch it. It was her favorite plaything. Now one day it happened that the princess's golden ball did not fall into her hands, that she held up high, but instead it fell to the ground and rolled right into the water. The princess followed it with her eyes, but the ball disappeared, and the well was so deep that she could not see its bottom. Then she began to cry. She cried louder and louder, and she could not console herself. As she was thus lamenting, someone called out to her, "What is the matter with you, princess? Your crying would turn a stone to pity." She looked around to see where the voice was coming from and saw a frog, who had stuck his thick, ugly head out of the water. "Oh, it's you, old water-splasher," she said. "I am crying because my golden ball has fallen into the well." "Be still and stop crying," answered the frog. I can help you, but what will you give me if I bring back your plaything?" "Whatever you want, dear frog," she said, "my clothes, my pearls and precious stones, and even the golden crown that I am wearing." The frog answered, "I do not want your clothes, your pearls and precious stones, nor your golden crown, but if you will love me and accept me as a companion and playmate, and let me sit next to you at your table and eat from your golden plate and drink from your cup and sleep in your bed, if you will promise this to me, then I'll dive down and bring your golden ball back to you." "Oh, yes," she said, "I promise all of that to you if you will just bring the ball back to me." But she thought, "What is this stupid frog trying to say? He just sits here in the water with his own kind and croaks. He cannot be a companion to a human." As soon as the frog heard her say "yes" he stuck his head under and dove to the bottom. He paddled back up a short time later with the golden ball in his mouth and threw it onto the grass. The princess was filled with joy when she saw her beautiful plaything once again, picked it up, and ran off. "Wait, wait," called the frog, "take me along. I cannot run as fast as you." But what did it help him, that he croaked out after her as loudly as he could? She paid no attention to him, but instead hurried home and soon forgot the poor frog, who had to return again to his well. The next day the princess was sitting at the table with the king and all the people of the court, and was eating from her golden plate when something came creeping up the marble steps: plip, plop, plip, plop. As soon as it reached the top, there came a knock at the door, and a voice called out, "Princess, youngest, open the door for me!" She ran to see who was outside. She opened the door, and the frog was sitting there. Frightened, she slammed the door shut and returned to the table. The king saw that her heart was pounding and asked, "My child, why are you afraid? Is there a giant outside the door who wants to get you?" "Oh, no," she answered. "it is a disgusting frog." "What does the frog want from you?" "Oh, father dear, yesterday when I was sitting near the well in the forest and playing, my golden ball fell into the water. And because I was crying so much, the frog brought it back, and because he insisted, I promised him that he could be my companion, but I didn't think that he could leave his water. But now he is just outside the door and wants to come in." Just then there came a second knock at the door, and a voice called out: Youngest daughter of the king, Open up the door for me, Don't you know what yesterday, You said to me down by the well? Youngest daughter of the king, Open up the door for me. The king said, "What you have promised, you must keep. Go and let the frog in." She went and opened the door, and the frog hopped in, then followed her up to her chair. He sat there and called out, "Lift me up next to you." She hesitated, until finally the king commanded her to do it. When the frog was seated next to her he said, "Now push your golden plate closer, so we can eat together." She did it, but one could see that she did not want to. The frog enjoyed his meal, but for her every bite stuck in her throat. Finally he said, "I have eaten all I want and am tired. Now carry me to your room and make your bed so that we can go to sleep." The princess began to cry and was afraid of the cold frog and did not dare to even touch him, and yet he was supposed to sleep in her beautiful, clean bed. The king became angry and said, "You should not despise someone who has helped you in time of need." She picked him up with two fingers, carried him upstairs, and set him in a corner. As she was lying in bed, he came creeping up to her and said, "I am tired, and I want to sleep as well as you do. Pick me up or I'll tell your father." With that she became bitterly angry and threw him against the wall with all her might. "Now you will have your peace, you disgusting frog!" But when he fell down, he was not a frog, but a prince with beautiful friendly eyes. And he was now, according to her father's will, her dear companion and husband. He told her how he had been enchanted by a wicked witch, and that she alone could have rescued him from the well, and that tomorrow they would go together to his kingdom. Then they fell asleep. The next morning, just as the sun was waking them, a carriage pulled up, drawn by eight horses. They had white ostrich feathers on their heads and were outfitted with chains of gold. At the rear stood the young king's servant, faithful Heinrich. Faithful Heinrich had been so saddened by his master's transformation into a frog that he had had to place three iron bands around his heart to keep it from bursting in grief and sorrow. The carriage was to take the king back to his kingdom. Faithful Heinrich lifted them both inside and took his place at the rear. He was filled with joy over the redemption. After they had gone a short distance, the prince heard a crack from behind, as though something had broken. He turned around and said, "Heinrich, the carriage is breaking apart." No, my lord, the carriage it's not, But one of the bands surrounding my heart, That suffered such great pain, When you were sitting in the well, When you were a frog. Once again, and then once again the prince heard a cracking sound and thought that the carriage was breaking apart, but it was the bands springing from faithful Heinrich's heart because his master was now redeemed and happy.LITERATURE OUT LOUD -- see and hear great literature Audio narrations with synchronized visual text
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Monday Feb 27, 2012
Monday Feb 27, 2012
LITERATURE OUT LOUD
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That melodic tune must mean it’s time for another episode of philosophy by Markus Tenacious Noggin. I do have an extraordinarily large head, and I do stick to a point, even when other might wisely give up long before I do. That might be why my mamma named me Markus Tenacious Noggin. MT Noggin at yer service.
Welcome to leap year. You also git to injoy "leap day" this week, which I call "work an extra day for no payday". Not me, of course, but most of us sheeple will go to work on leap day not thinking about the fact we are workin' an extra day we didn't work last year for the exact same pay as last year. Did you get a raise this year equal to another day's pay? Then yur workin' for free.
I work on a contract of so many days a year, so my daily rate stays the same. I'll finish working in the exact same amount of days as I did last year, but I'll be done a day earlier this year. I won't git paid any more money, but I'll be done a day earlier. Just another day to sit back and enjoy the sunshine and contemplate the money I'm not makin that day. But at least I won't be workin. But most of you will work that extra day fer free.
My salary stayed the same, but yur's'll go down one two-hundred and sixtieth if you work 52 five day weeks in a year. If you make a hundred thousand a year, that's about four hundred dollars. If you make half that, then you gave up two hundred dollars this week to help adjust the calendar.
But,MT, you may be saying, we would be working fifty-two weeks anyway. It doesn't matter if there is an extra day or two thrown in there.
But think about it. You may think you get paid holidays, but maybe it's just another day yur not getting paid. Unless you get extra for showin' up that day and workin', yur just cutting down the number of days you can earn money.
That's what makes me laugh about people gettin' all excited about holidays. We work from day to day, lookin' forward to those special holiday breaks, or to another three day weekend, but unless you have the choice to go to work and make more money, yur just giving up another day of pay.
I'm surprised we don't have more holidays, and most of the people I work with gripe about not havin' any holiday breaks in March.
Or think about it this way. You work a certain amount of weeks a year. Adding a day doesn't change that. But last year, you didn't work on leap year day, and you got paid the same for what yur gettin' paid this February. Where's the extra pay for the extra day?
I know this might hurt yer head just thinkin' about it, but every four years, most of us work an extra day for the same pay.
Here's another way to think about it. If you are on a daily contract like me, workin' just so many days a year, takin' a holiday, which I don't get paid fer, means I have to work one day more before my contract is up. Not havin' a holiday in March means I'm done a day or two earlier than otherwise. This is one of the reasons I hate spring break, or huntin' vacation, or harvest holidays or beet vacation. Just means I have to wait until later in the year to finish up my contract of so many days a year.
The rest of you don't even think about it.
Most of us just go to work everyday we're told to, and rejoice at the sign of a break, when really, a break should mean we could have the potential of making some more money. In other words, we get happiest when we have to take time off and not get paid.
I do believe in time off, but if the time off isn't paid, then it's just sittin' around. This does make me jealous of those who have paid holidays. If you git two weeks of paid holiday, those are days yur not working but still getting paid. But the real test would be if you decided to cash those days in, could you still go to work and get paid more?
Workin's a funny thing. Most of us define our lives around it. We are what we do. We call ourselves bankers, or farmers, or liars, but mostly we are workers. As long as we show up and do the work, we'll git paid. Walkin' around sayin' yer a liar without doin' the work equals no pay, so whatever you say you are, remember this week to show up and do the work, even if it isn't lyin.
You might as well show up and work. If ya don't, you might lose the opportunity to be workin' at all. So an extra day every four years don't seem like much sacrifice.
Just remember, on leap day, yur probably leapin' straight into a day without pay.
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The Complete Collection of
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Monday Feb 27, 2012
Monday Feb 27, 2012
LITERATURE OUT LOUD
Click here for a complete INDEX
Whistling
That melodic tune must mean it’s time for another episode of philosophy by Markus Tenacious Noggin.
I used to have a ferocious temper, and argued day and night. That might be why my mamma named me Markus Tenacious Noggin.
MT Noggin at your service.
Whistling
Just fer yer information, I’m that old guy driving the speed limit in the slow lane. Don’t give me dirty looks when the people in the fast lane ain’t goin’ fast enough fer ya, and you can’t use the slow lane as the “extra fast let’s pass everyone else lane”.
Remember this is happenin’ in a place where most of the people have swore to obey the law of the land, and I think that includes speed limits. Except when they have an emergency, and you and me are in the way.
I just wanted to take this opportunity to say how much I have enjoyed having you speedsters on the road. You won’t be around forever and I wanted to say this now before you kill yourself and several others in your rush to get to where ever it is you are rushing off to.
It’s gonna be tough not havin’ you around to tailgate me in the slow lane, when there are other lanes on the freeway. I suppose someone else will come along and take your place, but you can at least be glad I don’t jam on my brakes anymore just to give you a thrill.
It might be that cell phone you got glued to your jaw. When I see a vehicle going extra fast or extra slow, it’s usually someone jaw-boning about something very, very important on their cell phone. So important it can’t wait till they git there, and not important enough to pull off the road to talk about.
They say talkin’ on your cell phone reduces your drivin’ proficiency down to about the level of a drunk. That’s what yu’re drivin’ like -- a drunkard. Ya may not drink, but yu’re doin’ a pretty good imitation with yur weavin’ all over the road and yur slow and fast and tail-gatin’.
It has been entertainin’ to watch some of yur antics. Like the guy in the fast car I could see coming way too fast in my mirror. Since I was in the slow lane going the speed limit, he swerved around me like I was standin’ still, probably going about thirty or forty over the limit.
The bad news is the swervin’ didn’t stop even when he was way down the road. He did a little fishtail, and then wham! right into the jersey barrier.
I started to slow up since his car was now airborne, and not too far in front of me. To my amazement, the car continued in a perfect arc, just like you see on the movies, and as it flipped three hundred and sixty degrees around in a circle, it landed back right side up and even in the right lane.
The guy who was driving next to him in the other lane must have been grateful for the precision movement. I’m glad I didn’t have to see one car land on top of another.
Well, I think one or two of the tires blew out from the impact of the landin’, and as this modern McQueen had a few seconds to contemplate his amazing luck, he finally decided to pull off on the side of the road to check out what had happened.
Don’t try this at home. The luck of the stupid drivin’ way too fast has probably been used up by this one maneuver for the next year or two.
If you still have to drive stupid, we would all appreciate it if you could move away for a couple ‘a years.
Just remember you heard it here first from Markus Tenacious Noggin, MT Noggin at you service, just MT most of the time.
Mares eat oats
And does eat oats
And little lambs eat ivy
A kid’ll eat ivy too
Wouldn’t you?
Whistling
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Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CLIV
by William Shakespeare
The little Love-god lying once asleep
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep
Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
The fairest votary took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;
And so the general of hot desire
Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy
For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.
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Sonnet 154
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CLIII
by William Shakespeare
Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep:
A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes.
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Sonnet 153
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CLII
by William Shakespeare
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing,
In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
When I break twenty? I am perjured most;
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee
And all my honest faith in thee is lost,
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see;
For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I,
To swear against the truth so foul a lie!
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Sonnet 152
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CLI
by William Shakespeare
Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no farther reason;
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
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Sonnet 151
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CL
by William Shakespeare
O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantize of skill
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
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Sonnet 150
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CXLIX
by William Shakespeare
Canst thou, O cruel! Say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.
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Sonnet 149
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
Tuesday Feb 21, 2012
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Sonnet CXLVIII
by William Shakespeare
O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! With tears thou keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
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Sonnet 148