7 months have passed since I last blogged. A 7 month hiatus that represents a much needed rest from the stress of, the stress of, er...
It's been a while I did this and truly I don't know why. What I do know is, a certain write-up tickled my fancy and it got me all giddy inside, so giddy it made me want to write again, so I share with you a very interesting story that happened in the earlier part of the last century. I do hope you enjoy it, it blew my mind away.
An atheist professor of Philosophy was speaking to his class on the problem Science has with GOD. He asked one of his new Christian Students to stand and . . .
Professor : You are a Christian, aren't you, son ?
Student : Yes, sir.
Professor: So, you believe in GOD ?
Student : Absolutely, sir.
Professor : Is GOD good ?
Student : Sure.
professor: Is GOD all powerful ?
Student : Yes.
Professor: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to GOD to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But GOD didn't. How is this GOD good then? Hmm?
(Student was silent.)
Professor: You can't answer, can you ? Let's start again, young fella. Is GOD good?
Student : Yes.
Professor: Is satan good ?
Student : No.
Professor: Where does satan come from ?
Student : From . . . GOD . . .
Professor: That's right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?
Student : Yes.
Professor: Evil is everywhere, isn't it ? And GOD did make everything. Correct?
Student : Yes.
Professor: So who created evil ?
(Student did not answer.)
Professor: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don't they?
Student : Yes, sir.
Professor: So, who created them ?
(Student had no answer.)
Professor: Science says you have 5 Senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me, son, have you ever seen GOD?
Student : No, sir.
Professor: Tell us if you have ever heard your GOD?
Student : No , sir.
Professor: Have you ever felt your GOD, tasted your GOD, smelt your GOD? Have you ever had any sensory perception of GOD for that matter?
Student : No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't.
Professor: Yet you still believe in Him?
Student : Yes.
Professor : According to Empirical, Testable, Demonstrable Protocol, Science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Student : Nothing. I only have my faith.
Professor: Yes, faith. And that is the problem Science has.
Student : Professor, is there such a thing as heat?
Professor: Yes.
Student : And is there such a thing as cold?
Professor: Yes.
Student : No, sir. There isn't.
(The lecture theatre became very quiet with this turn of events.)
Student : Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat, mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don't have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.
(There was pin-drop silence in the lecture theater.)
Student : What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?
Professor: Yes. What is night if there isn't darkness?
Student : You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light. But if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and its called darkness, isn't it? In reality, darkness isn't. If it is, were you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?
Professor: So what is the point you are making, young man ?
Student : Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.
Professor: Flawed ? Can you explain how?
Student : Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good GOD and a bad GOD. You are viewing the concept of GOD as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, Science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing.
Death is not the opposite of life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor, do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?
Professor: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes, of course, I do.
Student : Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?
(The Professor shook his head with a smile, beginning to realize where the argument was going.)
Student : Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor. Are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher?
(The class was in uproar.)
Student : Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor's brain?
(The class broke out into laughter. )
Student : Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor's brain, felt it, touched or smelt it? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established Rules of Empirical, Stable, Demonstrable Protocol, Science says that you have no brain, sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?
(The room was silent. The Professor stared at the student, his face unfathomable.)
Professor: I guess you'll have to take them on faith, son.
Student : That is it sir . . . Exactly ! The link between man & GOD is FAITH. That is all that keeps things alive and moving.
well, the story ends there. Rumor had it that this student was Albert Einstein, rumor also had it that Einstein had vehemently disclaimed this and many other stories about him. Either way, it is a great story and I just had to share. Here's hoping I can stay with this (blogging I mean). And as I make to leave the stage, this is a call for you all to raise your glasses (mirrors, lenses and all), bla bla bla, Salud.
P.S
Forget the talk about hoping, I am back!!!
I AM ONE MEN
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Friday, 11 March 2011
Hardness, Smartness and Other Tales
"Go to school and become someone" momma was always quick to say. It's funny how I still don't get that. Wasn't I someone before school started? Ok, so, I have gone to school, I have gained knowledge, I'm a Bachelors degree holder, I know quite a couple of ways to paralyze you, I can blog (eh, one advantage), I met a whole lot of people, I learned a lot of things that I frankly can't remember and don't want to because they really don't come in handy right now and never will. I'll give you an example "if 2x + 7y - z = 0, find the value of x". How the heck does that put food on my table? I know it is applicable in some cases, yes, but it concerns the guys who went on to become "x" finders, I didn't. Now reality dawns on me and I remember the good book tells me "I will bless the WORKS of your hands". I don't see an "x" anywhere there.
I tried to be the guy who played it safe and do things the conventional way like my father before me and his fathers before him and so after school, I went on to serve my beloved country for 12 straight months. So much of my blood, sweat, and tears were shed while at it in that air conditioned office (:D) in the country's biggest Hospital where I was posted to. 12 months straight, it was the same routine. Wake up, yawn, rub eyes, stretch, scratch areas, sniff, pray (I wish I had done it more often than once a month, I'm better at it now though), brush teeth, empty bowels (really comforting, hey you scrunching up your nose, quit acting like you don't do it too. just so you know, mine smells like roses), bathe, rush out no breakfast (by the way i dress up, so don't think I'm running on the street showing off any dangling bits), trek or run down the street to get a bus, get to the bus stop which is actually a big roundabout and engage in battle royale to get in a vehicle, move some 200 metres, get stuck in traffic, your vehicle gets hit once or twice, you hit someone else's vehicle once or twice, there's cursing, spitting, sometimes fisticuffs, if that doesn't happen, vehicle inspections officers are there to mess the day up for the driver and waste your time in the process. Get to work say 27 minutes late and boss man pours his mixture of irritating invectives and downright evil, and brutal grammatical errors on you (run Oga run, the British Secret Service is coming for you, Scotland Yard awaits you for destroying the beauty of their language). People come in wanting to be attended to, each believing his/her problem's the worst ever, some are nice, others cuss you out. Thirty minutes in and boss man tells you "It's 9:30, abeg i'm coming make I fit drink small cup of tea", you check the time, it is actually 9:30 a.m, you look before you again at the annoyingly annoyed crowd of nine that turns twenty seven in less than four minutes. Did I say I was posted to a Hospital? The doctor comes in at a few minutes to 10 a.m when resumption time is 8 a.m, calls you into the consulting room and says "if you don't want trouble with me, just make sure that only fifteen patients come in to see me today blah blah blah", you smile because only yesterday the HOD had said "take a minimum of forty daily. these people are too lazy". You hear arguments from outside, frenzied, it's your partner and she isn't gonna let off, you know that much, the patient threatens to slap her, she offers a cheek, you go in to quell the tension, he leaves, she sits, you sigh. It's 11:30 a.m. now, you go for breakfast, you rush your meal which is most uncomfortable, you're back at your post in twenty minutes or less, the whole shindig continues. "I'm back", it's boss man, you check the time, 2:30 p.m. you look around, the place is relatively empty, you come to realize boss man has shirked his responsibilities and will get paid for doing so tat the end of the month. You rush off to the secretary's office, you do her work for a few notes more. Time lulls, finally 4 p.m., home sweet home is all you think about. You make a call or two, see if the boys are gonna be available, none, they all have issues and girlfriends to attend to, you leave the premises, it's a 25 minute trek to the bus terminus, another battle royale at the terminus. Soda and meat roll in hand, the journey back home is hellish, what with the hot tropical sun and the traffic not forgetting to mention the bus driver's overt cacophony which is his idea of music, you get home at 6:45 p.m (traffic was nice to you on such occasions), pick out clothes for tomorrow, eat, watch a movie, sleep, wake up and guess what, it starts again.
I couldn't live my life this way, I knew this from my second month there (by the way every time I said you, I meant me, you know what I mean, right?).
Now it's about using what you have to get what you want. I've got fast fingers and so I'm blogging, heaven knows I'm soon going to monetize this baby. I was playful as a kid and still am, that got me through some tough times in school as I climbed stages and made a total fool of myself... and got paid in the process.
I have ideas, but don't know how to use them so I make a lot of friends and tell them my ideas. I sow seeds in their heads and they birth these ideas. I may not get as much money as I'd want, heck I may not get a penny, but there's a satisfaction that comes from knowing I had a hand in it (big fat lie, gimme my money before I go Kamikaze on all y'all) :D. I became a taxi driver for a week and made more than most people who wear suits do in a month (car's gone gaga after I had splurged, so back to square one, but hey, I was free to work my own way). I know a whole lot of people who work smart, not hard, smart, and I like their way of life.
ONE MEN SAYS, I ain't working my butt off like momma did for chicken change, I'm working smart and making it big. I'm going into offices and making cheap cash of them, I'm gonna be the guy who'll not play it safe, I'm gonna be the guy who'll say make it any way... legit. You people who follow status quo (aimlessly), look at the next guy who did and see if he is satisfied, if he isn't follow something else. Dave Chapelle once said "name your price in the beginning, if it ever gets more expensive, get outta there" I say, stay in there and get it all... legitimately. I've aired my view, it works for me, if you want to, try it, if you're too scared, please don't try this at home.
I AM ONE MEN
I tried to be the guy who played it safe and do things the conventional way like my father before me and his fathers before him and so after school, I went on to serve my beloved country for 12 straight months. So much of my blood, sweat, and tears were shed while at it in that air conditioned office (:D) in the country's biggest Hospital where I was posted to. 12 months straight, it was the same routine. Wake up, yawn, rub eyes, stretch, scratch areas, sniff, pray (I wish I had done it more often than once a month, I'm better at it now though), brush teeth, empty bowels (really comforting, hey you scrunching up your nose, quit acting like you don't do it too. just so you know, mine smells like roses), bathe, rush out no breakfast (by the way i dress up, so don't think I'm running on the street showing off any dangling bits), trek or run down the street to get a bus, get to the bus stop which is actually a big roundabout and engage in battle royale to get in a vehicle, move some 200 metres, get stuck in traffic, your vehicle gets hit once or twice, you hit someone else's vehicle once or twice, there's cursing, spitting, sometimes fisticuffs, if that doesn't happen, vehicle inspections officers are there to mess the day up for the driver and waste your time in the process. Get to work say 27 minutes late and boss man pours his mixture of irritating invectives and downright evil, and brutal grammatical errors on you (run Oga run, the British Secret Service is coming for you, Scotland Yard awaits you for destroying the beauty of their language). People come in wanting to be attended to, each believing his/her problem's the worst ever, some are nice, others cuss you out. Thirty minutes in and boss man tells you "It's 9:30, abeg i'm coming make I fit drink small cup of tea", you check the time, it is actually 9:30 a.m, you look before you again at the annoyingly annoyed crowd of nine that turns twenty seven in less than four minutes. Did I say I was posted to a Hospital? The doctor comes in at a few minutes to 10 a.m when resumption time is 8 a.m, calls you into the consulting room and says "if you don't want trouble with me, just make sure that only fifteen patients come in to see me today blah blah blah", you smile because only yesterday the HOD had said "take a minimum of forty daily. these people are too lazy". You hear arguments from outside, frenzied, it's your partner and she isn't gonna let off, you know that much, the patient threatens to slap her, she offers a cheek, you go in to quell the tension, he leaves, she sits, you sigh. It's 11:30 a.m. now, you go for breakfast, you rush your meal which is most uncomfortable, you're back at your post in twenty minutes or less, the whole shindig continues. "I'm back", it's boss man, you check the time, 2:30 p.m. you look around, the place is relatively empty, you come to realize boss man has shirked his responsibilities and will get paid for doing so tat the end of the month. You rush off to the secretary's office, you do her work for a few notes more. Time lulls, finally 4 p.m., home sweet home is all you think about. You make a call or two, see if the boys are gonna be available, none, they all have issues and girlfriends to attend to, you leave the premises, it's a 25 minute trek to the bus terminus, another battle royale at the terminus. Soda and meat roll in hand, the journey back home is hellish, what with the hot tropical sun and the traffic not forgetting to mention the bus driver's overt cacophony which is his idea of music, you get home at 6:45 p.m (traffic was nice to you on such occasions), pick out clothes for tomorrow, eat, watch a movie, sleep, wake up and guess what, it starts again.
I couldn't live my life this way, I knew this from my second month there (by the way every time I said you, I meant me, you know what I mean, right?).
Now it's about using what you have to get what you want. I've got fast fingers and so I'm blogging, heaven knows I'm soon going to monetize this baby. I was playful as a kid and still am, that got me through some tough times in school as I climbed stages and made a total fool of myself... and got paid in the process.
I have ideas, but don't know how to use them so I make a lot of friends and tell them my ideas. I sow seeds in their heads and they birth these ideas. I may not get as much money as I'd want, heck I may not get a penny, but there's a satisfaction that comes from knowing I had a hand in it (big fat lie, gimme my money before I go Kamikaze on all y'all) :D. I became a taxi driver for a week and made more than most people who wear suits do in a month (car's gone gaga after I had splurged, so back to square one, but hey, I was free to work my own way). I know a whole lot of people who work smart, not hard, smart, and I like their way of life.
ONE MEN SAYS, I ain't working my butt off like momma did for chicken change, I'm working smart and making it big. I'm going into offices and making cheap cash of them, I'm gonna be the guy who'll not play it safe, I'm gonna be the guy who'll say make it any way... legit. You people who follow status quo (aimlessly), look at the next guy who did and see if he is satisfied, if he isn't follow something else. Dave Chapelle once said "name your price in the beginning, if it ever gets more expensive, get outta there" I say, stay in there and get it all... legitimately. I've aired my view, it works for me, if you want to, try it, if you're too scared, please don't try this at home.
I AM ONE MEN
Thursday, 10 March 2011
Iwo Jima's Letters
Resolve toughened at the shooting range,
thumbs calloused from loading clips
sounds from afar of battle rage
his trembling parched thinned lips.
Caressing the body of his gun, he dreads the battle that must soon come,
knowing that it might be at the highest point of noon, or right in the middle of this gloom.
Within and around him the tension builds,
all around him, guns his comrades wield,
some to sleep's seductive lure yield,
blending in with the night darkened field.
He can not help but wonder all the while,
about the fate of the rank and file.
Listening to the jibes of the troop's jester 'bubbly' Kyle
he can only muster a weary smile.
Soon his lids are heavy and he drifts
in his dreams is a world free of this rift.
A dream he'd pick any day over this reality,
finding pleasure in the surreal, preferring not to part with it.
In the arms of his wife he finds escape, playing in his garden with his kids, dessert is cake.
Cutting short his bliss is his commander's yell,
how foolish they all were, he couldn't tell.
Here they were fighting a war instigated by some fat cats stacked away in some castle unaffected without tact.
Orders barked, they fall in line
He learns the enemy had flanked them in the middle of the night.
Adrenaline pumping, he knows he does't want this.
Ensuing shouts mean there will be no time for talking.
Bullets whizz past his ears like metallic bugs buzzing
In seven minutes his battalion is down by a dozen.
He'd signed up, but not for this
yet his brain washed mind keeps his feet trudging.
Forward he marches through the hail of bullets,
Taking cover and pulling the trigger when he can pull it.
Cries from the field tell of a brutal fate,
joints severed, the dead, his bloodied face.
One whizzes past, and from beside him a muffled cry
only a while back, right there stood 'bubbly' Kyle.
The soldier's panic and rage compete for precedence,
but only for a short while for soon his head feels dense.
The next moment he is on the ground, a gaping bloodied hole in his chest.
Tears pour as they flash, his kids,
her charming smile, her heaving breasts,
He looks at the hole which once bore the military's crest.
A sharp cry of pain escapes his lungs, he has seen death.
The hooded sickle bearing figure he'd often seen in paintings was nowhere to be seen,
but spatters of blood on trees, shattered bones and scattered spleens.
All he can think about is the pain, his wife,
and with disdain for she was the woman of his life.
The tears she cried that last passionate night, oh what he'd give for her not to know his plight.
Soon it gets cold, and the light dims,
In his line of sight, blocking out the skies, a face so grim,
set on its intentions, it's emotions unseen,
cold blood shot eyes, soon the nozzle of a gun is seen. It takes position
at ninety degrees to his forehead,
a loud bang was the last thing he heard.
I AM ONE MEN
thumbs calloused from loading clips
sounds from afar of battle rage
his trembling parched thinned lips.
Caressing the body of his gun, he dreads the battle that must soon come,
knowing that it might be at the highest point of noon, or right in the middle of this gloom.
Within and around him the tension builds,
all around him, guns his comrades wield,
some to sleep's seductive lure yield,
blending in with the night darkened field.
He can not help but wonder all the while,
about the fate of the rank and file.
Listening to the jibes of the troop's jester 'bubbly' Kyle
he can only muster a weary smile.
Soon his lids are heavy and he drifts
in his dreams is a world free of this rift.
A dream he'd pick any day over this reality,
finding pleasure in the surreal, preferring not to part with it.
In the arms of his wife he finds escape, playing in his garden with his kids, dessert is cake.
Cutting short his bliss is his commander's yell,
how foolish they all were, he couldn't tell.
Here they were fighting a war instigated by some fat cats stacked away in some castle unaffected without tact.
Orders barked, they fall in line
He learns the enemy had flanked them in the middle of the night.
Adrenaline pumping, he knows he does't want this.
Ensuing shouts mean there will be no time for talking.
Bullets whizz past his ears like metallic bugs buzzing
In seven minutes his battalion is down by a dozen.
He'd signed up, but not for this
yet his brain washed mind keeps his feet trudging.
Forward he marches through the hail of bullets,
Taking cover and pulling the trigger when he can pull it.
Cries from the field tell of a brutal fate,
joints severed, the dead, his bloodied face.
One whizzes past, and from beside him a muffled cry
only a while back, right there stood 'bubbly' Kyle.
The soldier's panic and rage compete for precedence,
but only for a short while for soon his head feels dense.
The next moment he is on the ground, a gaping bloodied hole in his chest.
Tears pour as they flash, his kids,
her charming smile, her heaving breasts,
He looks at the hole which once bore the military's crest.
A sharp cry of pain escapes his lungs, he has seen death.
The hooded sickle bearing figure he'd often seen in paintings was nowhere to be seen,
but spatters of blood on trees, shattered bones and scattered spleens.
All he can think about is the pain, his wife,
and with disdain for she was the woman of his life.
The tears she cried that last passionate night, oh what he'd give for her not to know his plight.
Soon it gets cold, and the light dims,
In his line of sight, blocking out the skies, a face so grim,
set on its intentions, it's emotions unseen,
cold blood shot eyes, soon the nozzle of a gun is seen. It takes position
at ninety degrees to his forehead,
a loud bang was the last thing he heard.
I AM ONE MEN
As I Begin To Speak
As I begin to speak...
Umm...
Really, umm...
Heck I got me a blog page and I am downright happy I got a medium to voice my views without having to look over my shoulder, thanks LUSCIOUSCURVES for the prodding (hmm LUSCIOUS, wink wink).
Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce, mbanu, I present to you the one, the only, many but one, one but plenty, Nigerian living the Nigerian dream (drum roll, cymbals, trumpets, and a cry from Mad Melon and Mountain black of Danfo Drivers fame, Ihemeeeee)
ONE MEN (cacophony of noise ends abruptly and a sound of someone coughing in the background with static from the microphone).
Thank you.
(But the background of the page make sense sha. Gbaaaasski).
I AM ONE MEN
Umm...
Really, umm...
Heck I got me a blog page and I am downright happy I got a medium to voice my views without having to look over my shoulder, thanks LUSCIOUSCURVES for the prodding (hmm LUSCIOUS, wink wink).
Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce, mbanu, I present to you the one, the only, many but one, one but plenty, Nigerian living the Nigerian dream (drum roll, cymbals, trumpets, and a cry from Mad Melon and Mountain black of Danfo Drivers fame, Ihemeeeee)
ONE MEN (cacophony of noise ends abruptly and a sound of someone coughing in the background with static from the microphone).
Thank you.
(But the background of the page make sense sha. Gbaaaasski).
I AM ONE MEN
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