Ugly

Widely copied story, author as of yet unknown - extremely touching:

Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat.

Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and shall we say, love. The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly.

To start with, he had only one eye, and where the other should have been was a gaping hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot has appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner. His tail has long since been lost, leaving only the smallest stub, which he would constantly jerk and twitch. Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby striped-type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, even his shoulders with thick, yellowing scabs.

Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!"

All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave.

Ugly always had the same reaction. If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around feet in forgiveness. Whenever he spied children, he would come running meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love. If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbors huskies. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. From my apartment I could hear his screams, and I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.

Ugly lay in a wet circle, his back legs and lower back twisted grossly out of shape, a gaping tear in the white strip of fur that ran down his front. As I picked him up and tried to carry him home I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. I must be hurting him terribly I thought.

Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear - Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring. Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled-scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, or even try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly. Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.

Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me, I will always try to be Ugly.

The oldest reference I can find for this story is "Ugly" by Karen Stone in 2002 on the Independent Institute of Living but confusingly, although she claims copyright on the page, she also has this after the story:

I wish I knew who wrote this awesomely moving piece, a piece that will probably become a classic fable in due time.

The crusade for a Christian military

http://harpers.org/archive/2009/05/0082488

They had commissioned the Special Forces interpreter, an Iraqi from Texas, to paint a legend across their Bradley’s armor, in giant red Arabic script.

“What’s it mean?” asked Humphrey.

“Jesus killed Mohammed,” one of the men told him. The soldiers guffawed. JESUS KILLED MOHAMMED was about to cruise into the Iraqi night.

The Bradley, a tracked “tank killer” armed with a cannon and missiles—to most eyes, indistinguishable from a tank itself—rolled out. The Iraqi interpreter took to the roof, bullhorn in hand. The sun was setting. Humphrey heard the keen of the call to prayer, then the crackle of the bullhorn with the interpreter answering—in Arabic, then in English for the troops, insulting the prophet. Humphrey’s men loved it. “They were young guys, you know?” says Humphrey. “They were scared.” A Special Forces officer stood next to the interpreter—“a big, tall, blond, grinning type,” says Humphrey.

“Jesus kill Mohammed!” chanted the interpreter. “Jesus kill Mohammed!”

A head emerged from a window to answer, somebody fired on the roof, and the Special Forces man directed a response from an MK-19 grenade launcher. “Boom,” remembers Humphrey. The head and the window and the wall around it disappeared.

Sunday School for Atheists

The pioneering Palo Alto program began three years ago, and like-minded communities in Phoenix, Albuquerque, N.M., and Portland, Ore., plan to start similar classes next spring. The growing movement of institutions for kids in atheist families also includes Camp Quest, a group of sleep-away summer camps in five states plus Ontario, and the Carl Sagan Academy in Tampa, Fla., the country's first Humanism-influenced public charter school, which opened with 55 kids in the fall of 2005. Bri Kneisley, who sent her son Damian, 10, to Camp Quest Ohio this past summer, welcomes the sense of community these new choices offer him: "He's a child of atheist parents, and he's not the only one in the world."

Une nouvelle perspective sur les prophètes

J'ai eu une discussion hier avec des collègues sur l'utilité ou non du concept de Dieu était une fois passé les superstitions générées par l'ignorance et les religions. Une tangente de cette discussion était sur le personnage Jésus et la question de son existence historique.

Comme beaucoup le savent, le concept de Jésus (et autres grands maîtres "spirituels") est similaire à plusieurs mythes de d'autres cultures venues avant lui. Son existence physique est certainement difficile à réconcilier avec le fait que les écrits sont tous datés de décennies après les évènements, le manque d'observations contemporaines et les contradictions dans le nouveau testament.

Mais il y a peut-être une explication alternative: Jésus est un "nice guy".

Supposons que le personnage de Jésus ait existé. Il faut bien sûr retirer les fictions surnaturelles de miracles et de son lien à une entité irrationnelle ajoutés plus tard dans la Bible.

Fondamentalement, c'est un grand promoteur de la règle d'or ("Ne fais pas à autrui ce que tu n'aimerais pas que l'on te fasse."), socialiste, humaniste et pacifiste ultime (prêt à mourir plutôt que de confronter), c'est un type d'individu très rare et remarquable dans nos sociétés. C'est certainement un modèle difficile voir impossible à suivre comme le démontre ceux qui s'appellent "chrétiens". Ceci expliquerait pourquoi les histoires de ce type de personnes deviennent légendaire dans toutes les cultures.

Est-il possible donc qu'il soit le résultat d'une rare jonction génétique poussant au maximum les traits permettant de bien vivre en société? L'humain étant un animal social, il y a plusieurs traits pour permettre à l'espèce humaine de prospérer dans ce sens - mais rarement au point où l'individu est prêt à se sacrifier pour le bien des autres.

L'ironie c'est que les idées de Jésus (partagé par bien d'autres prophètes, maîtres "spirituels" et autres) ait été ensuite reprise, avec une bonne dose de peur de la mort, par les sociopathes pour mieux manipuler ces mêmes sociétés!

Intéressant quand même de penser à ces deux forces qui s'affrontent: "nice guys" versus sociopathes. De l'extérieur, tout les deux ont l'air bon et vertueux, mais rare sont ceux pour qui ce n'est pas juste une façade pour obtenir ce qu'ils veulent.

Religulous: documentaire sur la religion

Excellent documentaire sur la religion avec Bill Maher que j'ai vu en première aujourd'hui. Définitivement à voir; autant drôle qu'un bon objet de discussions. Dommage que les gens qui en ont le plus besoin ne le verront pas puisqu'ils ont peur de remettre en doute leurs contes de fées.

Je pense que ce que je retiens principalement c'est qu'il y a une grande proportion de gens qui ne sont pas religieux, plus que n'importe quelle minorité, mais que nous sommes exclus des considérations de la classe politique et il est temps que ça change.

Toutefois, je crois que Bill Maher dérape un peu à la fin du documentaire. La religion est un des symptômes d'un manque d'esprit critique et de discussions rationnelles. Nous pouvons trouver les mêmes problèmes dans des régimes communistes où l'adoration d'un dieu est remplacé par l'adoration d'un système politique particulier ou du capitaliste où l'adoration des biens matériels est aussi un substitut.

Le vrai problème qu'il faut règler c'est que les gens pensent pour eux-mêmes et cessent d'avaler n'importe quoi.

Pour les gens "spirituels"

Esalen, la mecque du New Age:


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