Cranberry Sauce

The following is a letter addressed to the Zeitgeist Movement, pointing out some of its conceptual flaws and practical shortcomings this is not a challenge nor a debate, but a discussion. i am, in essence, in support of your ideals and your vision. but i find several practical difficulties in implementing your proposed system As a primer, i would like to state the two basic needs of man (animal): survival and procreation an advantage of the monetary system is, it empowers a person, in the sense it, largely, makes an individual responsible for his own survival. the need to earn money partly stems from the need to stay alive and "earn" his next meal or shelter, food, health, education. Also, it provides a competitive environment which helps people push their limits of competence and hence (largely) ensures personal growth. The monetary system is responsible for a reward/punishment form of positive/negative reinforcement to participants of the system, which eventually helps dire...

I am sad. But I am not quite sure about the origin of my sadness, nor its magnitude. I wonder if I’m sad or depressed, or very sad or very depressed. It has a sense of finality about it – like the end of an era, or the end of all hope. The only thing that comes to my mind when I think of nostalgia now is nitesh jain. To say my life has spiraled downward into apathetic degeneration would be just too dramatic and quite unreal. I can feel the life slip out of my hands, but to make things better (or worse) it’s as if I’ve been administered an overdose of tranquilizers to ease the pain. What I have then, is the sight of my slow, methodical amputation by my own hands, before my own eyes, while the rest of my useful faculties lie gagged and anesthetized so that I can see my own pain, but yet not feel it. Anticlimactic culmination is again too strong a phrase to use, this feeling is soft, innocuous, numb… brutally agonizingly incapacitating, but comfortable in its execution. Like a painless de...

Forgive me this one time, this wont happen again I wont let my thoughts run free, the way they would I wont let my desires fuel, the way they once did And then again, and then again I wont dream of having your body in my arms, again Your slender figure, your delicate curves, your smooth skin, your anxious moulds I wont long to see the crystal gleam in your eyes Your eyes............................ I wont dream of your moist lips on mine The sweet summer taste of honey and lime I wont ache to smell your bountiful tresses Or stroke my crude hands over your tantalizing silken mane The strands of strength will be mine no more O, Where will I hide without the cosy shelter of your hair I wont crave for your reassuring gentle touch That still sends scintillating shivers down my spine I wont…. Ask you to be my princess, my whore My one, my only, my heart, my soul I wont desire again to be your man Your savior, your hero, your master, your owner I wont ever again be your fortress against infil...

Welcome to the world. Much of the direction and theme of a written composition is determined by its first couple of lines, and I shall do my best to screw up this particular piece of forced write-up, just like the countless others that have preceded it. Change is what we secretly desire, but change also is the thing we dread the most. The world is a (seemingly) haphazard assortment of spring – mass systems, in seemingly unstable equilibrium, equilibrium because it has inertia and unstable as it has springiness too. The paradox about change is only too well known, but almost never appropriately documented, which perfectly complies with the paradox of change itself. The world can sometimes seem to be standing still, constant and unmoving, almost agonizingly so, the next moment, another facet of the same subject would display mutating volatility, making you doubt your premises and ultimately doubt the world around you, you being the pivot of it, the tool for its cause and the recipient of...