Fable: Lion and HyenasA lion had a deep hatred of hyenas, and he would roam the savannah and ruthlessly hunt down and slaughter any that he saw. For a while, the hyenas feared him, until one brave individual rallied them all together and proclaimed that they should fight back.
The next time the lion began to maul one of the hapless animals, the others emerged from the long grass and tore at the lion's flanks. He tried to defend himself, but there were so many hyenas harrying him from all sides that he was at last forced to retreat. Covered in bites and scratches, he wandered through the plains shouting, "Help me! Those hyenas have always had it in for me!"
Men claim persecution often when they are no longer allowed to persecute.
How Brush Wolf became CoyoteShe Wolf sat on a ridge overlooking the forest. She had recently given birth to a litter of cubs, but one of them fell prey to an eagle that morning, and She Wolf blamed herself for what happened. The wind blew through the grasses and made the pine trees rustle and the wild flowers shimmer, but above the soft rustling there was the sound of whimpering. She Wolf followed it until she came to a burrow, and in it lay a little pup. It looked like the young of a wolf, yet it was much smaller. It looked up at her with half-closed eyes, and began to whine.How Brush Wolf became Coyote5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Sorry, little one," said She Wolf. "You are not a wolf, so therefore I must kill you." But it looked so helpless, just like her own children, that She Wolf could not bring herself to kill it. Instead, she gently gathered it in her jaws and brought it back home.
"What is that?" The other wolves gathered round the tiny creature and sniffed it with their wet, black noses. "It looks rather runty to me."
But First Wolf - the leader of the pack
A Spiritual HaikuWhy yes, I am oneA Spiritual Haiku4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Of those Christian people.
Is that a problem?
Oh no, I am one
Of those atheist people.
Is that a problem?
Why yes, I do think
That's a problem because I
Think you have it wrong.
Well yeah? I too think
That's a problem because I
Think you have it wrong.
You know what, when you
End up in Hell, don't blame me.
I tried to warn you.
You know what, when you
Die and nothing happens, then
You'll see how you're wrong.
No you're wrong, and on
Judgement Day God Himself
Will say 'you were wrong.'
I regret to inform you that the poem must end here because the conversation portrayed proceeded to go on for thirty pages and got absolutely nowhere. I apologize for any inconvenience caused.
The Rat and the DollSome time ago there lived a Rat of fine whiskers and a finer tail who stumbled across a small porcelain Doll in a farmer's rubbish heap. Entranced by the Doll's beauty, he carried her home with him and, to the amusement of his fellow rats, instated her as his wife. Finding that she was of little assistance in his daily rambles for food, the Rat placed her upon a slight ledge of the barn in which he lived and brought her an offering of sustenance each day, as well as flowers and other pretty objects with which to enhance her loveliness.The Rat and the Doll5 years ago in Fable Me This More Like This
One day the Rat returned from his foraging to find the other rats throwing pebbles at his Doll. "Stop!" he cried. "Why do you abuse my wife? What has she ever done to you?"
"She does nothing at all," said the other rats, "and that is the problem. How has she proven herself worthy of the attention you grant her, or the offerings you provide?"
"Her beauty proves her worth," claimed the Rat.
But at that moment, a gust of wind swept the Doll off her perch an
The WolvesI am the wolf - that cruel keen-eyed killer,The Wolves5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Who sniffs at the frail frame of the sheepfold.
I am the night howler, the freezing air
Echoing with my mad, mournful moaning.
I am the unknown shadow prowling and
Pacing around the home's trembling threshold,
And all who dwell within shudder softly
And draw nearer to the nurturing fire.
I am the bringer of dirge and disease,
My greedy jaws snapping shut on life's light.
I am the wolf - the swift and free spirit
Racing through the cool green forest, my eyes
Glowing with benevolence, not hatred.
I am the night howler, humbly singing
As if in prayer to a listening moon.
I am the one whom you root for in battle
With other monstrous, unlovable beasts
Who are not on the side of Good, like me.
I am the harmless innocent creature
Who never did anyone any wrong.
I am cruelty, gluttony, corruption.
I am innocence, bravery, beauty.
We are the figments of distant dreaming.
We are the wolves that men have created.
Five Silly Arguments to AvoidIf you are (a) someone who spends half their waking life on the Internet, (b) a user of YouTube or (c) a philosophy student or (c) all three, the chances are you've encountered or participated in your fair share of arguments. As someone who generally prefers reading debates on the Internet as opposed to actually taking part (although God knows I've had my share), here are five basic fallacies that one should try to avoid. As some of them do affect me on a personal level, expect cursing.Five Silly Arguments to Avoid4 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
5. 'x' says it, so it must right.' - appeal to expert fallacy.
Ever had someone justify their point on the basis of '*insert name of famous clever-clogs here* has this view, and because he's a clever person, that means my point of view is right?' Now I'm not saying should not use quotes from experts, but one must not treat them as though they are God. By all means, use their wisdom and quote them, but explain why you agree with them. Experts are your allies, not magic wands that automatically make you r
On ForgivenessOn Forgiveness3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
After I went to Confession this morning I began to consider forgiveness. As I did, I returned again and again to myselfbut I don't mean egotistically. I reflected on when we sin, especially when it's that embarrassing, stupid, every-time sin, and how we tend to get upset with ourselves, feel ashamed, and many other things. For the one who has faith, he looks to Christ to forgive him. This in itself is not bad at all.
I then began to wonder: We reach out to be forgiven and we entreat God with sighs and tears. But the truest fruit of that forgiveness (and mercy) is a conversion, a change of heart. But I think there is another aspect, namely that we have to allow ourselves to be forgiven as well. If there is a gift that someone gives it must also be received. And how do we receive a gift? With gratitude, of course.
The gift of forgiveness, however, is no mere gift. It is one of the greatest gifts.
We should consider how the Lord sees us when He forgives us: he is like the bridegroom
What Makes a Good Story?1. The prose flows naturally.What Makes a Good Story?3 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
2. There is an equal balance of humor and seriousness.
3. You actually learn something from it.
4. The characters are believable.
5. The characters go through a significant change of some sort, whether physical or mental.
6. There is some sort of conflict going on; not all goes well.
7. Good descriptions, vivid but appropriate; the best stories are where the audience has a good idea of what's going on and yet they're still free to use their own imagination.
9. Proper spelling and grammar.
10. Appropriate for intended audience.
A PrayerDear Jesus, please help me outA Prayer3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
I don't know what to do
I've just started writing and
My English task is due
The similes draw circles
But I can't see their sense
I no longer understand
The past and present tense
I can't think through Riley's howls
He's starved for days on end
I would buy him something but
I have no cash to spend
I can't go to the library
'Cause Mel would be at home
Mum's a wreck so she's no use
I can't leave lil' Jerome
Dad is gone, that rules him out
For answers on genre
Anyhow, he doesn't know
What science fictions are
There is no extension and
I don't mean to seem rude
But without a miracle
I will be very screwed
I really need assistance
Before I break my pen
You will have my gratitude
And many thanks, Amen.
Just DanceHere's to a moment of nostalgia. I'm skimming through pages of ballet terminology and admiring the pictures associated with the movements. I find myself drawn to the faces of each ballerina. Some seem to be in no pain, as though the movement they are captured creating is second nature. Others don't hide the pain quite so well, and my heart reaches out to them. I long to tell them that it's okay not to be prefect, and that all that matters is the beauty of the art they create and the story they portray. But they know better. I know better.Just Dance5 years ago in Biography & Memoir More Like This
My brain is suddenly racked with invading memories I've kept stashed away and hidden for so long. As painful as they are, I succumb to the invasion. I've returned to that day in the hospital. I still vividly remember my conversation with a ballerina from the San Francisco Ballet. She spoke of her once-successful ballet career, and as I listened with much intensity I could not grasp why she didn't miss it. She didn't miss dance. She stated without hesi
Coyote EnvyJeremy Driggers didn't just love coyotes. He envied them. He wanted to be one, and gradually grew less and less guarded about it. He drew coyotes in his notebooks in class. He watched Warner Bros. cartoons and rooted against The Road Runner. He wrote letters to the editor defending coyotes going through garbage cans in suburbia.Coyote Envy5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Jeremy wasn't very outgoing in or out of class, so no one paid much mind to him or his coyotes. He wore coyote T-shirts to class and even put a tail hole through a pair of pants, but no one asked him about it. At night, rather than socialize, he would lie outside and stare at the sky, obsessing about being a coyote.
This continued from high school into college. Jeremy signed up for several clubs where he hoped to meet like-minded individuals, but they never came at it from the same angle. They cared about camping and hunting, or endangered species, or Native American culture. No one else expressed interest in becoming a coyote, so he wasn't about to volunteer i