Monday, April 27, 2009

Your Future Investments

These times we live in, they are so wild with opportunity. The bright lines of separation from the rich, the poor, and the middle are becoming blurry with potential within such a “crisis”. Economic down-turn is certainly no reason to be blue; it is the natural way of humans to hurt ourselves like this so we may grow taller from the wreckage. You see, while we skillfully step over each other and reach for the American Dream, there is so much climbing going on that no one is holding the ladder when our shaky, skyscraping accomplishments begin to waver.

When the loving father bounces his daughter on his knee and tells her “you can be anything you want to be” there is something he forgets to see. We breed a generation of “me” and wonder why it fell to the ground so easily.

The opportunity is yours and mine; we can fight to the death or flow with the tide.

Let the money go. It wouldn’t miss you if you were gone, so shall you learn not to miss it when it is gone. Save your useless earnings yearnings and turn those sentiments where they truly belong: in your fellow men and women. Try holding the ladder for someone else – someone who will hold your ladder in return – someone who will remember you when you are gone.

Friday, April 24, 2009

Welcome to Jabberwocky

Hi. I am Lisa. Jabberwock is my new pet blog. Together we will bring you some highly interesting and entertaining stuff. Useful, fun, probably stupid sometimes, and generally straight from my daily thoughts.

Jabberwock will help me keep things poetic meaningful and, of course, ridiculous. If you don't know Jabberwock here he is in his most frivolous, timeless beauty:


Lewis Carroll

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
  The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
  The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
  Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
  And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
  The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
  And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
  He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
  He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

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