I goofed again!

Fri, 14 April 1980 00:00:00 GMT
Book Title:
The Dhammapada: The Way of the Buddha, Vol 11
Chapter #:
am in Buddha Hall
Archive Code:
Short Title:
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The first question:

Question 1:



Dharma Chetana, it is true, I goofed again! Go on reminding me. These goddamned jokes are dangerous! And I love the Italians so much that wherever I can find a place for them I try to manage. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail, but you caught me.

To put the record right, the joke is:

Two gentlemen are sitting in a garden, one British, one Irish.

The British gentleman asked the Irish, "If you were not Irish, what would you be?"

The Irish says, "Of course I would be British."

And then he asks the British, "If you were not British, what would you be?"

And the British said, "I would be ashamed."

But I got mixed up. That's why I have all my jokes typed with me. That one was not typed with me. About God and about truth and about religion there is no trouble - I know them from my personal experience. But these jokes!

Yes, Chetana, it is against the Dharma. And I hope it is not going to happen again.

The second question:

Question 2:



Prageeta, it is very normal. It is not something exceptional. Our eyes are focused on others; we are other-oriented. We only see the others - it is not only a question of faults - we never see ourselves. Even if we want to see ourselves we have to look in a mirror, we have to create the image. When the image is there the other has appeared. The mirror helps us to see ourselves because it creates the other. Otherwise we are absolutely extroverts; we have forgotten the language of how to look in. Hence, as a consequence, you cannot see your own faults; nobody can.

The moment you start seeing your faults they start dropping like dry leaves. Then nothing else has to be done; to see them is enough. Just to be aware of your faults is all that is needed. In that awareness they start disappearing, they evaporate. One can go on committing a certain error only if one remains unconscious of it. Unconsciousness is a must to go on committing the same errors. Even if you try to change you will commit the same error in some other form, in some other shape. And they come in all sizes and all shapes. You will exchange, you will substitute, but you cannot drop it because deep down you don't see that it is a fault. Others may be telling you because they can see.

That's why everybody thinks himself so beautiful, so intelligent, so virtuous, so saintly - - and nobody agrees with him! The reason is simple: you look at others, you see their reality, and about yourself you carry fictions - beautiful fictions. About yourself you are very fictitious. All that you know about yourself is more or less a myth; it has nothing to do with reality.

The moment one sees one's faults, a radical change sets in. Hence all the buddhas down the ages have been telling only one thing: awareness. They don't teach you character.

Character is taught by priests, politicians, but not by the buddhas. Buddhas teach you consciousness - not conscience. Conscience is a trick played upon you by others. Others are telling you what is right and what is wrong; they are forcing their ideas upon you.

And they go on forcing them from your very childhood, when you were so innocent, so vulnerable, so delicate, that there was a possibility to make any impression on you, any imprint on you. They have conditioned you from the very beginning. That conditioning is called conscience and that conscience goes on dominating your whole life. Conscience is a strategy of society to enslave you.

Buddhas teach consciousness. Consciousness means you are not to learn from others what is right and what is wrong; there is no need to learn from anybody. You have simply to go in; just the inward journey is enough. The deeper you go, the more consciousness is released. When you reach the center you are so full of light that darkness disappears. When you bring light into your room you don't have to push the darkness out of the room. The presence of the light is enough because darkness is only an absence of light. So are all your insanities, madnesses.

But everybody can see others' faults, so don't be worried about it, Prageeta. This is the situation in which everybody is living.

A man dressed as Adolf Hitler visited a psychiatrist.

"You can see I have no problems," he said. "I have the greatest army in the world, all the money I will ever need and every conceivable luxury you can imagine."

"Then what seems to be your problem?" asked the doctor.

"It's my wife," said the man. "She thinks she's Mrs. Weaver."

Don't laugh at the poor man. It is nobody else but you.

A man went into a tailor's shop and saw a man hanging by one arm from the center of the ceiling.

"What is he doing there?" he asked the tailor.

"Oh, pay no attention," said the tailor, "he thinks he's a light bulb."

"Well, why don't you tell him he's not?" asked the startled customer.

"What?" replied the tailor. "And work in the dark?"

The moment you know you are mad you are no longer mad. That's the only criterion of sanity. The moment you know you are ignorant you have become wise.

The Oracle at Delphi declared Socrates the most wise man on the earth. A few people rushed to Socrates and they told him, "Be pleased, rejoice: the Oracle at Delphi has declared you the wisest man in the world."

Socrates said, "That is all nonsense. I know only one thing: that I know nothing."

The people were puzzled and confused. They went back to the temple, they told the Oracle, "You say that Socrates is the wisest man in the world, but he himself denies it.

On the contrary, he says he is utterly ignorant. He says he knows only one thing: that he knows nothing."

The Oracle laughed and said, "That's why I have declared him the wisest man in the world, the greatest wise man in the world. That's why - precisely because he knows that he is ignorant."

Ignorant people believe they are wise. Insane people believe they are the sanest.

Yes, Prageeta, it happens; it is part of human nature that we go on looking to the outside. We watch everybody except ourselves. Hence we know more about others than about ourselves; we know nothing about ourselves. We are not witnesses to our own functioning of the mind, we are not watchful inside.

You need a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn - that's what meditation is all about. You have to close your eyes and start watching. In the beginning you will find only darkness and nothing else. And many people become frightened and rush out because outside there is light. Yes, there is light outside but that light is not going to enlighten you, that light is not going to help you at all. You need inner light, a light which has its source in your very being, a light which cannot be extinguished even by death, a light which is eternal. And you have it, the potential is there! You are born with it, but you are keeping it behind you; you never look at it.

And because for centuries, for many lives, you have looked outside, it has become a mechanical habit. Even when you are asleep you are looking at dreams. Dreams mean reflections of the outside. When you close your eyes you again start daydreaming or thinking; that means again you become interested in others. This has become such a chronic habit that there are not even small intervals, small windows into your own being from where you can have a glimpse of who you are.

In the beginning it is a hard struggle, it is arduous, it is difficult - but not impossible. If you are decisive, if you are committed to inner exploration, then sooner or later it happens. You just have to go on digging, you have to go on struggling with the darkness. Soon you will pass the darkness and you will enter into the realm of light.

And that light is true light, far truer than the light of the sun or the moon, because all the lights that are outside are temporal; they are only for the time being.

Even the sun is going to die one day. Not only do small lamps exhaust their resources and die in the morning, even the sun with such an immense resource is dying every day. Sooner or later it will become a black hole; it will die and no light will come from it. Howsoever long it lives it is not eternal. The inner light is eternal; it has no beginning, no end. It is synonymous with God.

And I am not interested in telling you to drop your faults, to make yourself good, to improve your character - no, not at all. I am not interested in your character at all; I am interested only in your consciousness.

Become more alert, more conscious. Just go deeper and deeper into yourself till you find the center of your being. You are living on the periphery, and on the periphery there is always turmoil. The deeper you go, the deeper the silence that prevails. And in those experiences of silence, light, joy, your life starts moving into a different dimension. The errors, the mistakes start disappearing.

So don't be worried about the errors and the mistakes and the faults. Be concerned about one single thing, one single phenomenon; put your total energy into one goal, and that is how to be more conscious, how to be more awakened. If you put your total energy into it, it is going to happen, it is inevitable. It is your birthright.

The third question:

Question 3:



Nirmal, exactly that: a big mouth!

I will tell you a fictitious story:

I was going to the Himalayas; Radha was accompanying me. The train was stopped in the middle of the night in the jungle and the whole train was robbed. The robbers came to our compartment also.

I told them, "Don't disturb us. Take whatsoever you want."

So they carried away the two suitcases. I was worried about Radha, that she might get very much frightened, might become very much concerned about her things, but I was surprised. When they left she started laughing, "Ha, ha! Ha, ha!"

I said, "What is the matter, Radha? What's-a matta?"

She said, "I befooled them! I have saved your fifty-thousand-dollar diamond watch, I have saved my Rolex, I have saved my earrings, I have saved my gold and diamond ring, and all the valuables."

I said, "How did you manage?"

She said, "I kept all of them in my mouth."

I said, "That makes me feel very sad."

She said, "Why?"

I said, "If we had brought Sarjano with us, he would have saved the two suitcases! Next time we come to the Himalayas never forget: Sarjano has to accompany us!"

The fourth question:

Question 4:



Jan, it does not mean the same - they are polar opposites. The people who have become interested in the cross are pathological. They are not interested in Christ, they are interested in the cross. If they were really interested in Christ they would have also been interested in Buddha, in Lao Tzu, in Krishna, in Kabir. But they are not interested in Christ, they are interested in the cross.

Hence I don't call Christianity "Christianity," I call it "Crossianity." If Jesus had not been crucified there would have been no such thing as you find all over the world in the name of Christianity. These people became interested in death; this interest is morbid.

They became interested in worshipping death. Jesus is secondary, the cross became primary. Because he was crucified, because he suffered, he caught their attention. There are people who are always interested in suffering, in misery, in death.

My interest is not death, my interest is life. I love life unconditionally. I celebrate death too, just because it is part of life - not as death but as part of life, as the finishing touch, as the crescendo, as the ultimate flowering of life. If you have lived rightly, your death is a beautiful phenomenon. But my interest basically, intrinsically, is life.

The mala represents life, the cross represents death. The mala represents a certain art of making life a garland. The beads are the moments. Each bead has to be perfect; each moment has to be lived in its perfection. And there is a thread running through them which is invisible, passing through each bead; that thread is of eternity. Each moment is threaded with eternity.

Unless your life knows what eternity is your life will be just a heap of beads or a heap of flowers, but it will not be a garland, it will not be a mala. It will not have any inner harmony - the beads will remain unrelated. It will be a chaos, it will not be a cosmos; there will be no order, no discipline. But the discipline should be invisible like the thread.

And how does one come to know eternity? The only way to know the thread is to go inside the bead. There, at the very center of the bead, you will find the thread passing.

Going deep into each moment, going totally into it, you will find eternity. Each moment is part of an eternal procession, of an eternal celebration.

The mala represents time as beads, visible, and the thread as eternity, the invisible.

There are one hundred and eight beads in the mala. One hundred and eight beads represent one hundred and eight methods of meditation; all the methods of meditation can be reduced to one hundred and eight - one hundred and eight methods are the fundamental methods of meditation. Then they can have thousands with little differences, little changes - joining two methods or three methods or a few parts of one method and a few parts of another method. One can make as many methods as possible, but the fundamental methods are one hundred and eight.

The mala has one hundred and eight beads and a locket with a picture of somebody...

nobody knows who he is. Somebody anonymous, somebody who is more a nobody than a somebody; a man who has died long ago as a separate entity, who does not exist anymore as an 'I' but is only an open space. That is where you have to reach, that is where you have to arrive. That is your ultimate home.

The mala is not a cross. Christianity worships death and that is where it has gone wrong. It has lost the joy of life, the laughter, the humor. It has lost contact with Jesus. It goes on worshipping the crucified Jesus, but it is not capable of worshipping the alive Jesus.

And my effort here is to help you to worship life, to live so joyously, with such humor, that your life becomes a dance. I don't want you to become sad and serious - sincere of course, but serious, never. I would like you to go deeper into existence. Dance with the flowers! Have dialogues with the stars! Look into people's eyes and love and don't hold back. The only unspiritual people are those who are holding back, who are living in a miserly way, who are living only partially, fragmentarily, who are not integrated.

And don't live an accidental life; let there be a thread running through it. The Sanskrit word for thread is SUTRA. That's why these great sayings of Buddha, Patanjali, Krishna, Mahavira are called sutras: these are threads. If you understand them your life will not remain just a heap, an accidental heap. You will not be just driftwood at the mercy of unconscious forces. Your life will become a conscious movement, your life will become an art. It will have a sense of direction, and each act will be connected with every other act of your life. You will not be accidental. If you are accidental you will be only a noise; if you are not accidental you can become music.

The mala represents music, it represents harmony. It shows that you have found the sutra, the thread that makes your life one whole, one piece. Life is beautiful when it is one piece; life is ugly when it is fragmentary - when you are just a crowd and when the crowd is always fighting within you, when there is always a civil war.

Of course, the cross has influenced humanity very much, because millions of people find meaning in the cross - because it fits with their lives. Their lives are almost on the cross: they are living in agony, they have never tasted what ecstasy is.

It is not an accident that Krishna's message has not reached millions. Just the other day I was telling you that Zarathustra has not reached millions for the simple reason that he loved life. Jesus has reached millions not because of himself but because of an accident in his life. It is because of the Jews and the Romans: if they had not crucified him, if they had tolerated him, he would have died by himself and then nobody would have heard anything about him. All these churches and thousands of monks and nuns would not have been seen at all - they gathered around the cross. The cross became significant because it synchronizes with something in their life. Their life is of suffering and the cross represents it. They are also on the cross. Their whole life is agony, their whole life is hell.

What I am saying is not going to appeal to many people. It is going to appeal to only a few intelligent ones, courageous ones, to only a few who are really healthy and whole.

This is unfortunate, but this has been so up to now.

Whenever somebody comes here to teach life to you he seems far away; there seems to be no dialogue happening between him and you. He talks about dance and you don't even know how to walk! He talks about ecstasy and you don't know what that word means.

One of my sannyasins has just come from Greece. She has informed me that in Greece 'ecstasy' - EKSTASIS - means bus stop! That seems to be more meaningful. And in a sense it is a bus stop, in fact the terminus, the last stop. Beyond that there is no way to go - the last bus stop. You hear the word 'ecstasy', the sound comes to you, but the meaning is missed. But when you hear the word 'suffering' it is not only the sound that comes to you, you know the meaning too. When you know what the cross is, you perfectly agree; your life agrees with it.

But your life is wrong. Your life is not yet life, you are not yet born. That's why Jesus goes on saying again and again: Unless you are born again....

My whole effort here is to give you a rebirth. The mala is not a cross.

The fifth question:

Question 5:



Sudarshan, feel happy that they are always writing; don't be worried about what they write. It they are writing that means something is happening here. And they can only write against because when you write something in favor you have to experience what is happening here; without experiencing it you cannot write a favorable report about it.

You have to be here for a few months.

They come only for one day, they look around, they see the meditators - but by seeing the meditators you can't see meditation. They see that something is happening and something so new for them that it does not fit with their idea of an ashram, of a monastery. Hence, naturally they turn against me, they become antagonistic.

If they are Hindus they are bound to be absolutely against me - for the simple reason that this is not a Hindu ashram; it does not fit with their idea of an ashram. The Hindu ashram has to be very dull and dead. And here there is so much dance and so much song and so much joy and so much love, they are shocked. And things are so intense here.

For centuries they have created a certain ideal of the Hindu ashram. People should not be active there; inaction is worshipped. People should renounce life - and here we rejoice life. How can they write in favor? To them it appears that I am destroying their whole ideal. To them it seems for centuries they have worshipped a certain ideal and I am sabotaging it. And in a way they are right.

I want to sabotage that stupid idea of an ashram: that it should be dead, people should be inactive, people should be dull, uncreative, against life, against love, against everything that smells of joy - they should be walking corpses!

And the Hindu idea of sannyas is that one should become a sannyasin only after seventy-five years. That means in India, nobody can become a sannyasin! The average age is thirty-six, so as far as the average man is concerned there seems to be no possibility of anybody ever becoming a sannyasin. Seventy-five years, then sannyas: the fourth stage of life, when death starts knocking on your doors, when one foot is already in the grave - then you should become a sannyasin.

And here they see young people, so young they cannot believe their eyes. Why have these people become sannyasins? This is not the time for sannyas!

I am trying to create a totally new concept of sannyas. Because they are against life... of course, if you are against life seventy-five years seems to be the right time. Because life has already left you now you can renounce, at least you can enjoy the idea that you are renouncing life. Life has already left you - what is the point of renunciation now? What are you renouncing? The whole idea is stupid. Then why not take sannyas when you are dead? Just wait a few days more, maybe one week. Why be in such a hurry? Just a little more!

In India when a man dies, they cover him with orange clothes. I don't know whom they are deceiving; the dead body is covered with the clothes of a sannyasin. And they chant the name of God when they are taking the dead body to cremate it. Now I don't know who is hearing their chanting - that poor fellow is no more there. They are simply deceiving themselves.

Hindus are bound to be against me. Jainas come here, they are bound to be against me - - this is not a Jaina ashram. In fact, Jainas have always been against ashrams; there is no such thing as a Jaina ashram. They want their sannyasins to be wanderers. They are very much afraid that if a person stays in one place he may become attached to the place; to the house, to the people surrounding him. And they are so much afraid of life that it is better to keep moving. The Jaina monk has to stay not more than three days in one place; the fourth day he has to leave. So no attachments, no friendships, no love affairs are possible; at the most he becomes acquainted. In three days you cannot have intimacies with people. One day you come, in fact only one day you remain in the village, the third day you are preparing to leave. This is fear of life! And to me, a sannyasin should be fearless.

So when a Jaina comes here, seeing so many people living together with so much joy, with such love, in deep involvements with each other, in great intimacies, friendships, love affairs.... Much more love is happening in these six acres than may be happening all over the world. In fact, sometimes I wonder how much love six acres can contain! It seems the capacity to contain love is infinite.

And anybody who comes... if a Christian comes he can't find the idea of his monastery.

There are Christian monasteries where women are not allowed; for one thousand years no woman has ever entered. Not even a small female baby, a two-month-old baby is allowed. What kind of people are living inside - monks or monsters? They are afraid of a two-month-old baby. What can a poor, two-month-old baby do to them? They are afraid of themselves - they may do something. They are boiling! And they are committing all kinds of perversions, they become perverted. If people are not allowed to be natural their energies become perverted.

All sexual perversions came out of the monasteries, remember it. They all have religious origins, they are very very spiritual and holy. All sexual perversions have their sources somewhere in religion. Now only monks are living in a monastery... how long do you think they can avoid homosexuality? Only nuns are living in a nunnery; how long can they avoid lesbianism? - impossible to avoid. It is natural, something is bound to happen.

So when these people come here they are somebody. It is very difficult to find a journalist who has no prejudices of his own; he comes with his prejudices. And this place is totally new, so naturally they are offended, outraged. And my statements are outrageous - they are meant to be. They are electric shocks to these people. They get very much disturbed and they take revenge.

Remember one thing: if you report something good it never becomes news. Nobody is interested in good things; people are interested in something bad, something sensational. So they are in search of sensation. And you can find enough sensational things here, more than you can find anywhere else. You need not invent them - we provide them!

Father Murphy was a priest in a very poor parish. He asked for suggestions how he could raise money for his church, and was told that horse-owners always had money.

He went to a horse auction, but he made a very poor buy as the horse turned out to be a donkey.

However, he thought he might enter the donkey in a race. The donkey came in third, and the next morning the headlines in the paper read, "Father Murphy's Ass Shows."

The archbishop saw the paper and was very angry.

The next day the donkey came in first and the headlines read, "Father Murphy's Ass Out Front."

The archbishop was up in arms and figured something had to be done.

Father Murphy entered the donkey for a third time and it came in second. Now the newspaper read, "Father Murphy's Ass Back In Place." The archbishop thought this was too much so he forbade the priest to enter the donkey the next day, which inspired the editor to write the headline, "Archbishop Scratches Father Murphy's Ass."

Finally, the archbishop heard this and ordered Father Murphy to get rid of the donkey.

But he was unable to sell it, so he gave it to Sister Agatha for a pet. When the archbishop heard this he ordered Sister Agatha to dispose of the animal at once. She sold it for ten dollars.

Next day the headlines read, "Sister Agatha Peddles Her Ass For Ten Dollars."

Don't be worried about the journalists. Enjoy whatsoever they write and help them to find things so they can go on writing. I am much more concerned right now that they should go on writing, because whether they write for or against they bring more and more people to me. And once a person comes here it is very difficult to escape! So I am just absolutely grateful to the journalists, whatsoever they are doing. They are doing such humanitarian work, such a great service to me!

So when they come here, don't feel antagonistic. Help them in every possible way.

The sixth question:

Question 6:



Roderick, weeds are divine. Don't call them weeds. They are as spiritual as the buddhas. They partake of God as much as roses. Remove men from the earth - will there be any difference between weeds and roses? All these distinctions are made up by the mind.

You are not really sitting silently; otherwise, who is telling you weeds are growing?

Your mind is still functioning, whispering things to you. It is your mind! If you are really silent there is no mind - then whether weeds grow or roses grow it is all the same to you. What difference is there? Can't you enjoy weeds? They are beautiful people! See the weeds swaying, dancing in the wind, in the sun.... What do you think is lacking in them which roses have? Nothing is lacking. This is just an idea, and ideas change. It is possible one day that roses may go out of fashion, weeds may become an "in" thing.

A hundred years ago nobody had ever thought that cactuses would be loved by people, but now the cactus is "in" and the rose is "out." To talk about the rose looks old- fashioned, looks orthodox, conventional; to talk about cactuses is avant-garde, it shows that you are modern, contemporary. People are keeping cactuses in their bedrooms - dangerous cactuses, poisonous cactuses, which can kill you! But they have come into fashion, and once something comes into fashion there are so many fools who start appreciating it.

People simply go on following whatsoever is made fashionable by a few clever and cunning people. Just a hundred years ago nobody would have liked Picasso's paintings, and now Picasso is the greatest artist - not only of this century but of the whole history.

What has happened? Just the fashion has changed. People get tired of one thing; they go on moving to the opposite extreme.

Roderick, there is nothing wrong in weeds! There is nothing wrong in anything. The idea of right and wrong means the mind is there. You are not sitting silently and you are not sitting doing nothing. You are discriminating, and that is action. You are labeling, and that is thinking. And you are judging.

Drop all judgment, all labeling, all discrimination... and just watch weeds growing. So what - let them grow! When you don't have a mind at all, you are also a weed; so weeds growing around you, it is not something strange - weeds surrounding a weed!


Once a Zen master was asked by a king - because the master was a great painter - to paint a picture of a bamboo.

The master said, "It will take time."

"How long?" asked the king.

The master said, "That is difficult to say, but at least two or three years."

The king said, "Are you mad or something? You are one of the greatest painters. I was thinking you could just draw it right now!"

He said, "That is not the problem, drawing a bamboo is not the problem - but first I have to be a bamboo; otherwise how do I know what a bamboo is? I want to know the bamboo from the inside! So I will have to go and live in a bamboo grove. Now, one never knows how long it will take. Unless I know the bamboo from within I cannot paint it. That has been my practice my whole life: I paint only that which I have known from its deepest core."

The king said, "Okay, I will wait."

One year passed. He sent a few people to see what was happening, whether the man was alive or dead. They came back and said, "The man is alive, but we don't think that he is a man anymore - he is a bamboo! He was swaying with the bamboos in the wind.

We passed by his side; he didn't take any notice. We said, 'Hello!' He didn't hear. We wanted to talk to him. We looked at his eyes - they were so empty that we became frightened; either he has gone mad or something has happened. And he can do anything, so we escaped. He may kill or, who knows? - he may jump upon us! He is no more the same man."

The king himself went to see, and the master was swaying in the wind, in the sun. And the king asked, "Sir, what about my painting?" He didn't answer.

After three years he appeared at the court and he said, "Now bring the canvas and the paints. I am ready. And why were you people disturbing me again and again? If you had not disturbed me I would have come a little earlier. These fools from your court, they were saying things to me. They were saying, 'Hello!' Do you say hello to a bamboo? They disturbed the whole thing. It took months for me to again settle into being a bamboo and to forget that I am a man. And then you came and you said, 'Sir.' Is that the way to address a bamboo? 'When are you going to paint?' Has anybody ever heard that bamboos paint? You are a fool, you are surrounded by fools! I had told you that I would come whenever I was ready."

The canvas was brought, the brushes and the color, and within seconds he drew the bamboo. And it is said that the king wept for joy. He had never seen such a painting: it was so alive! It was no ordinary painting. It was not from the outside, it was from the bamboo - as if a bamboo had sprouted on the canvas, not been painted.

Roderick, sit silently doing nothing, and let things happen - whatsoever is happening.

If weeds are growing, let them grow. They have the right to grow as much as you have the right to grow. And if you allow everything without any judgment, if you are nonjudgmental, you will grow to such pinnacles of joy and benediction that you cannot imagine right now.

The seventh question:

Question 7:



Adi, I know it is terrible, but what can I do? I love the Italians and I want to talk about them as much as I can. They are beautiful people. I hit only when I love. You should be worried about those whom I am not hitting. For example, I have not yet hit the Dutch. I am waiting - when I have gathered enough love for them I am going to hit them too! It is my way of showing love and showering love.

Why don't Italians believe in reincarnation?

Well, look at it this way: who would want to come back to life as an Italian?

A woman with a baby in her arms was sitting in the waiting room at a railway station in Italy, sobbing bitterly. Up came a porter and asked her what the trouble was.

"Oh, dear me," she cried, "some people were in here and they were so rude to me about my son. I'm all upset - they said he was so ugly!"

"There, there now, luv," said the porter soothingly. "Don't worry about it. I tell you what - how about a nice cup of tea?"

"You are very kind," she said, wiping her eyes. "That would be very nice."

"And while I'm at it," he said, "how about a banana for your monkey?"

An Italian with a one foot high man sitting on his shoulder walked into a bar and ordered a scotch and soda. The barman was stunned but delivered the drink as ordered.

Just as the fellow was about to drink it, the little man knocked it out of his hand. He ordered another one, and again the little man knocked the drink onto the floor. This scene was repeated three times.

Finally, the bartender could stand it no longer. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"It is a long story," the Italian said, "but many years ago I was in Egypt and found a magic lamp. I rubbed it and a genie offered me three wishes. First I wished for ten million dollars. Then I wished for everlasting life."

"Sounds great," said the bartender. "What was your third wish?"

"I wished for a prick twelve inches long."

Get it? Remember if you come across a genie some time, never ask for the third wish.

Look in the dictionary to find out the real meaning of "prick."

The last question:

Question 8:



Sargamo, it is one of the most beautiful words. The English language should be proud of it. I don't think any other language has such a beautiful word.

One Tom from California has done some great research on it. I think he must be the famous Tom of Tom, Dick and Harry fame.

He says:

One of the most interesting words in the English language today is the word 'fuck'. It is one magical word: just by its sound it can describe pain, pleasure, hate and love. In language it falls into many grammatical categories. It can be used as a verb, both transitive (John fucked Mary) and intransitive (Mary was fucked by John), and as a noun (Mary is a fine fuck). It can be used as an adjective (Mary is fucking beautiful). As you can see there are not many words with the versatility of 'fuck'.

Besides the sexual meaning, there are also the following uses:

Fraud: I got fucked at the used car lot.

Ignorance: Fucked if I know.

Trouble: I guess I am fucked now!

Aggression: Fuck you!

Displeasure: What the fuck is going on here?

Difficulty: I can't understand this fucking job.

Incompetence: He is a fuck-off.

Suspicion: What the fuck are you doing?

Enjoyment: I had a fucking good time.

Request: Get the fuck out of here!

Hostility: I am going to knock your fucking head off!

Greeting: How the fuck are you?

Apathy: Who gives a fuck?

Innovation: Get a bigger fucking hammer.

Surprise: Fuck! You scared the shit out of me!

Anxiety: Today is really fucked.

And it is very healthy too. If every morning you do it as a Transcendental Meditation - just when you get up, the first thing, repeat the mantra "Fuck you!" five times - it clears the throat. That's how I keep my throat clear!

Enough for today.

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"If one committed sodomy with a child of less than nine years, no guilt is incurred."

-- Jewish Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 54b

"Women having intercourse with a beast can marry a priest, the act is but a mere wound."

-- Jewish Babylonian Talmud, Yebamoth 59a

"A harlot's hire is permitted, for what the woman has received is legally a gift."

-- Jewish Babylonian Talmud, Abodah Zarah 62b-63a.

A common practice among them was to sacrifice babies:

"He who gives his seed to Meloch incurs no punishment."

-- Jewish Babylonian Talmud, Sanhedrin 64a

"In the 8th-6th century BCE, firstborn children were sacrificed to
Meloch by the Israelites in the Valley of Hinnom, southeast of Jerusalem.
Meloch had the head of a bull. A huge statue was hollow, and inside burned
a fire which colored the Moloch a glowing red.

When children placed on the hands of the statue, through an ingenious
system the hands were raised to the mouth as if Moloch were eating and
the children fell in to be consumed by the flames.

To drown out the screams of the victims people danced on the sounds of
flutes and tambourines.

-- http://www.pantheon.org/ Moloch by Micha F. Lindemans

Perhaps the origin of this tradition may be that a section of females
wanted to get rid of children born from black Nag-Dravid Devas so that
they could remain in their wealth-fetching "profession".

Secondly they just hated indigenous Nag-Dravids and wanted to keep
their Jew-Aryan race pure.