Dharam Khalsa

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"There may be said to be two classes of people in the world; those who constantly divide the people of the world into two classes, and those who do not." --Robert Benchley

However, war is when the lowly half, those downtrodden people, obey to shed blood to protect the money interests of the bloodstained capitalist class. How obscene!

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Lessons from a dog:
"A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down." - Robert Benchley

Dog lessons:

When a friend enters, greet him - slobbering.
Obey.
Don't bully the cat.
Defecate outdoors, aim for a corner.
Nap every day.

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If
(Rudyard Kipling)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

A Woman's Answer to 'If'
(anonymous)

If you can suit yourself to be attractive,
Yet not make this fashion outfit your only delight;
If you think you can swim, run, be robust - beyond active,
But of your dignity and virtues not lose sight;
If you can dance, not identifying with the dancing,
Or, play without giving play too strong a hold;
Enjoy youth's love without flirting or romancing,
And unhesitatingly nurture the beaten, poor or old;

If you can master French, Greek, not to mention Latin,
And exhibit no uppity, snooty or pretentious look;
If you can touch the smoothness of silk or satin,
Without hating cotton or wool, button or hook;
If, when invited, you can use a saw or wield a hammer,
Can undertake any man's work if the need occurs;
Sing a karaoke rendition with no shy excuse or stammer;
If you can rise undaunted above any snubs or slurs;
Can cook nutritious food, bake crusty bread and fudge,
Can knit with skill and have a natural eye for dust,
If you can be a tolerant friend and hold no grudge,
A good neighbor whom all love because they must;

If you should ever meet and truly love another,
Making a tidy home with faith and peace enshrined,
And your inspiration, as hardworking wife and mother,
I know you'll work out pretty nearly, to my mind,
A plan handed down throughout the ages,
And win the best opportunity that life has in store -
You are then, my daughter, a model for the sages,
A noble woman whom the world will bow before!

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This is the House that Jack Built
(Mother Goose rhyme)

This is the farmer sowing his corn,
That kept the cock that crowed in the morn,
That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,
That married the man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the maiden all forlorn,
That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the dog,
That worried the cat,
That killed the rat,
That ate the malt
That lay in the house that Jack built.

This is the hand-cut coca plant leaf,
That the hired workers join into a sheaf,
That is whisked away to that hot kettle,
That simmers it like the tempered metal,
That cools overnight to that rock-hard drug,
That henchmen jet northward to the hardwired thug,
That markets his lethal shipment to all the others,
That threatens to harm an embryo and kill ten addicted mothers,
That dwell in the house that crack built.

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Updated: May 10, 2016


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