David Huerta’s Favorites

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FATHER FORGETS W. Livingston Larned condensed as in "Readers Digest" Listen, son: I am saying this as you lie asleep, one little paw crumpled under your cheek and the blond curls stickily wet on your damp forehead. I have stolen into your room alone. Just a few minutes ago, as I sat reading my paper in the library, a stifling wave of remorse swept over me. Guiltily I came to your bedside. There are the things I was thinking, son: I had been cross to you. I scolded you as you were dressing for school because you gave your face merely a dab with a towel. I took you to task for not cleaning your shoes. I called out angrily when you threw some of your things on the floor. At breakfast I found fault, too. You spilled things. You gulped down your food. You put your elbows on the table. You spread butter too thick on your bread. And as you started off to play and I made for my train, you turned and waved a hand and called, "Goodbye, Daddy!" and I frowned, and said in reply, "Hold your shoulders back!" Then it began all over again in the late afternoon. As I came up the road I spied you, down on your knees, playing marbles. There were holes in your stockings. I humiliated you before your boyfriends by marching you ahead of me to the house. Stockings were expensive-and if you had to buy them you would be more careful! Imagine that, son, from a father! Do you remember, later, when I was reading in the library, how you came in timidly, with a sort of hurt look in your eyes? When I glanced up over my paper, impatient at the interruption, you hesitated at the door. "What is it you want?" I snapped. You said nothing, but ran across in one tempestuous plunge, and threw your arms around my neck and kissed me, and your small arms tightended with an affection that God had set blooming in your heart and which even neglect could not wither. And then you were gone, pattering up the stairs. Well, son, it was shortly afterwards that my paper slipped from my hands and a terrible sickening fear came over me. What has habit been doing to me? The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding-this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years. And there was so much that was good and fine and true in your character. The little heart of you was as big as the dawn itself over the wide hills. This was shown by your spontaneous impulse to rush in and kiss me good night. Nothing else matters tonight, son. I have come to your bedside in the darkness, and I have knelt there, ashamed! It is... Continue »
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Richard Dawkins letter to his 10 year old daughter (how to warn your child about this irrational world) The following is a letter that Richard Dawkins wrote to his daughter when she turned 10. Richard is one of the worlds most renowned scientists who is known for speaking out against the dangers of religion. To my dearest daughter, Now that you are ten, I want to write to you about something that is important to me. Have you ever wondered how we know the things that we know? How do we know, for instance, that the stars, which look like tiny pinpricks in the sky, are really huge balls of fire like the Sun and very far away? And how do we know that the Earth is a smaller ball whirling round one of those stars, the Sun? The answer to these questions is ‘evidence’. Sometimes evidence means actually seeing (or hearing, feeling, smelling….) that something is true. Astronauts have traveled far enough from the Earth to see with their own eyes that it is round. Sometimes our eyes need help. The ‘evening star’ looks like a bright twinkle in the sky but with a telescope you can see that it is a beautiful ball – the planet we call Venus. Something that you learn by direct seeing (or hearing or feeling…) is called an observation. Often evidence isn’t just observation on its own, but observation always lies at the back of it. If there’s been a murder, often nobody (except the murderer and the dead person!) actually observed it. But detectives can gather together lots of other observations which may all point towards a particular suspect. If a person’s fingerprints match those found on a dagger, this is evidence that he touched it. It doesn’t prove that he did the murder, but it can help when it’s joined up with lots of other evidence. Sometimes a detective can think about a whole lot of observations and suddenly realize that they all fall into place and make sense if so-and-so did the murder. Scientists – the specialists in discovering what is true about the world and the universe – often work like detectives. They make a guess (called a hypothesis) about what might be true. They then say to themselves: if that were really true, we ought to see so-and-so. This is called a prediction. For example, if the world is really round, we can predict that a traveler, going on and on in the same direction, should eventually find himself back where he started. When a doctor says that you have measles he doesn’t take one look at you and see measles. His first look gives him a hypothesis that you may have measles. Then he says to himself: if she really has measles, I ought to see… Then he runs through his list of predictions and tests them with his eyes (have you got spots?), his hands (is your forehead hot?), and his ears (does your chest wheeze... Continue »
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Wide Awake Wide Awake You can a look a hurricane right in the eye 1200 people dead or left to die Follow the leaders, we’re in an eye for an eye we’ll all be blind Death for murder and this I’m sure in this uncertain time So come pull the sheet over my eyes So I can sleep tonight Despite what I’ve seen today I find you guilty of a crime, of sleeping at a time When you should have been wide awake Down on the road the world is floating by The poor and undefended left behind While you’re somewhere trading lives for oil As if the whole world were blind, hey So come pull the sheet over my eyes So I can sleep tonight Despite what I’ve seen today I find you guilty of a crime of sleeping at a time When you should have been wide awake Come pull the sheet over my eyes So I can sleep tonight Despite what I’ve seen today I find you guilty of a crime of sleeping at a time When you should have been wide awake Wide awake! Wide awake! Wide awake! Wide awake! Audioslave Wide Awake (Subtitulado) Bien Despierto Bien despierto Podes mirar un huracán directo al ojo 1200 personas mueren o se dejan morir Sigue a los líderes, estamos en un ojo por ojo y seremos todos ciegos Muerte al asesinato y de eso estoy seguro, en este es un tiempo incierto. Por eso ven y cubre mis ojos con una sábana Así podre dormir esta noche. A pesar de lo que he visto hoy Te encuentro culpable del crimen de dormir en el momento Que deberías haber estado bien despierto. Abajo en el camino el mundo está flotando por Los pobres e indefensos dejados atrás Cuando estas en algún lugar cambiando vidas por petróleo Como si todo el mundo fuera ciego. Ven y cubre mis ojos con una sábana Así podre dormir esta noche A pesar de lo que he visto hoy Te encuentro culpable del crimen de dormir en el momento Que deberías haber estado bien despierto. Por eso ven y cubre mis ojos con una sábana Así podre dormir esta noche. A pesar de lo que he visto hoy Te encuentro culpable del crimen de dormir en el momento Que deberías haber estado bien despierto. ¡Bien despierto! ¡Bien despierto! ¡Bien Despierto! http://ociointeligente.wordpress.com/2010/04/06/audioslave-wide-awake-subtitulado/ Continue »
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Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente, y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca. Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca. Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía. Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma, y te pareces a la palabra melancolía. Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante. Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo. Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza: déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo. Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo. Eres como la noche, callada y constelada. Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo. Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente. Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto. Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan. Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto. It is as though you were absent, and you hear me from far away and my voice does not touch you. It seems as though your eyes had flown away and it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth. As all things are filled with my soul you emerge from the things, filled with my soul. You are like my soul, a butterfly of dream, and you are like the word Melancholy. I like for you to be still, and you seem far away. It sounds as though you were lamenting, a butterfly cooing like a dove. And you hear me from far away, and my voice does not reach you: Let me come to be still in your silence. And let me talk to you with your silence that is bright as a lamp, simple as a ring. You are like the night, with its stillness and constellations. Your silence is that of a star, as remote and candid. I like for you to be still: it is as though you were absent, distant and full of sorrow as though you had died. One word then, one smile, is enough. And I am happy, happy that it's not true. Continue »
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Do not let the day end without having grown a bit, without being happy, without having risen your dreams. Do not let overcome by disappointment. Do not let anyone you remove the right to express yourself, which is almost a duty. Do not forsake the yearning to make your life something special. Be sure to believe that words and poetry it can change the world. Whatever happens, our essence is intact. We are beings full of passion. Life is desert and oasis. We breakdowns, hurts us, teaches us, makes us protagonists of our own history. Although the wind blow against the powerful work continues: You can make a stanza. Never stop dreaming, because in a dream, man is free. Do not fall into the worst mistakes: the silence. Most live in a dreadful silence. Do not resign escape. "Issued by my screams roofs of this world," says the poet. Rate the beauty of the simple things. You can make beautiful poetry on little things, but we can not row against ourselves. That transforms life into hell. Enjoy the panic that leads you have life ahead. Live intensely, without mediocrity. Think that you are the future and facing the task with pride and without fear. Learn from those who can teach you. The experiences of those who preceded us in our "dead poets", help you walk through life. Today's society is us "poets alive." Do not let life pass you live without that. Do Not Let ... More PowerPoint presentations from Victoria Movras No dejes que termine el día sin haber crecido un poco, sin haber sido feliz, sin haber alimentado tus sueños. No te dejes vencer por el desaliento. No permitas que nadie te quite el derecho a expresarte, que es casi un deber. No abandones tus ansias de hacer de tu vida algo extraordinario. No dejes de creer que las palabras y las poesías sí pueden cambiar al mundo. Porque, pase lo que pase, nuestra esencia está intacta. Somos seres humanos llenos de pasión. La vida es desierto y es oasis; nos derriba, nos lastima, nos enseña, nos convierte en protagonistas de nuestra propia historia. Aunque el viento sopla en contra, la poderosa obra continúa. Tú puedes aportar una estrofa. No dejes nunca de soñar, porque sólo en sueños puede ser libre el hombre. No caigas en el peor de los errores, el silencio. La mayoría vive en un silencio espantoso. No te resignes. Huye. "¿Emito mi alarido por los techos de este mundo?" dice el poeta. Valora la belleza de las cosas simples, se puede hacer poesía bella sobre las pequeñas cosas. No traiciones tus creencias. Todos necesitamos aceptación, pero no podemos remar en contra de nosotros mismos. Eso transforma la vida en un infierno. Disfruta el pánico que provoca tener la vida por delante. Vívela intensamente, sin mediocridades. Piensa que en ti está el futuro, y encara la tarea con orgullo y sin miedo. Aprende de quienes pueden enseñarte. Las experiencias de quienes nos precedieron, de nuestros... Continue »
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Tomorrow is the infamous holiday of Cinco de Mayo. (Today being the less infamous, but almost as fun "May the Fourth" Star Wars day). The strangest things about this wonderful holiday is that seemingly very... Continue »
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Amazon.com is ubiquitous these days - but did you know they've got a whole network of blogs hosted on TypePad? ChordStrike, a music blog, just posted an interview with Tori Amos, and Al Dente, a... Continue »