Results for tag: Parables
Posted by: Frank Burton on May 11, 2013 at 02:37:09 PM

Aphorism of the Week

Immorality is to coerce a sapient.

Dedicated to the Minnesota State Legislature, Minnesotans United For All Families lobbyists, and forward-thinking Minnesotans who codified into law the equal human right of all loving couples to be married, regardless of their biologically-determined sexual orientation or identity; and dedicated in admonition of all fundamentalist religions' attempts, whether today or a half-century ago, to impose theocracies that guarantee discrimination in place of representative governments that guarantee equal rights.

Parable of the Week

The Sand, The Stone
Two great cathedrals were built, one upon stone, the other upon sand.
The first cathedral stood for all time, a monument to its architects and masons, and to their indomitable spirit.
Yet

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Apr 27, 2013 at 07:07:37 PM

Aphorism of the Week

Hell has two doors -- a way in, and a way out.

Dedicated in retrospective accolade to PEPFAR, former President George W. Bush's AIDS- and malaria- prevention initiative that saved 7 million lives in Africa.

Parable of the Week

The Rabbit, The Frog
Underneath a highway culvert lived a Rabbit and a Frog.
Every day cars rushed by overhead like the rush of the culvert's creek after a long rain. But at night the highway was often calm.
One such night, in black, starry quiet, the Rabbit and the Frog hopped up the gravel embankment to the middle of the blacktop, and sat watching falling stars.
The Frog croaked loud and long for a mate in the woods beyond the culvert, while the Rabbit nuzzled the air.
Suddenly a distant pair of stars low on the horizon loomed large and bore

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Apr 14, 2013 at 07:44:21 PM

Aphorism of the Week

The impossible just takes a little longer. -- via Larry Brown

Dedicated to the Stanford creators of CLARITY technology for immunostaining and imaging the whole neurocircuitry of intact fixed brains by making them transparent through acrylamide gel immobilization.

Parable of the Week

The Orchid, The Dandelion
Growing in a mountain rainforest were an Orchid and a Dandelion.
Both brilliant yellow, the Orchid meandered along a hedge, while the Dandelion bloomed from emerald grass.
But wounds torn in the land by the hand of Man caused a cold, dry wind to blow over the rainforest.
The Orchid dwindled and died, its dappled beauty lost to all sight.
But the Dandelion had dug a foot-root deep into the soil's groundwater, and sprouted puffballs to waft its seeds, each hanging

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Apr 7, 2013 at 08:30:37 PM

Aphorism of the Week

Study both sides of the coin -- feel both edges of the sword.

Dedicated in supplication to the U.S. Congress to use their votes to represent the People, who seek universal background checks for gun sales, and not to merely salve their political careers with yet another impasse permitting the irrational and the ill to mass-murder on no more than a whim.

Parable of the Week

The Effort, The Work
Fallow, rebelliously denuded, the cornfield lounged underfoot.
As the farmer and her daughter steered the plow behind their mare, the blade clanged on a large, granite stone buried in the earth, heaved up by last winter's frost.
"Oh, dear!" said the farmer. "Daughter, I'm taking a milk break for a while. You're still fresh. Why don't you dig up and roll that stone over to the

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Mar 31, 2013 at 08:25:04 PM

Aphorism of the Week

One deserves success not in the harvest, but in the tilling. -- via Judge Learned Hand

Dedicated to the teaching of non-violence, charity and love by Jesus of Nazareth.

Parable of the Week

The Red Ground, The Black Ground
Red clay entombed the land.
Upon this red ground only the thinnest weeds grew, and the land was as a desert.
There, animals scratched out meager homes.
Those who walked this red ground were hard and fearful -- for only the hard and fearful survived.
But black, soft humus blanketed a neighboring land.
Upon this black ground all seeds that fell grew into majestic trees.
There, all the animals built warm, pungent homes.
Those who walked this black ground were gentle and confident -- for all there long flourished.
Thus, observe the ground upon which

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Mar 25, 2013 at 02:26:37 AM

Aphorism of the Week

The path to enlightenment is not an elevated highway -- it is a narrow, rocky road.

Dedicated to the humility of Pope Francis, in the hope that such humility will become manifest in the future of the Church he now shepherds.

Parable of the Week

The Mud House, The Brick House
Returned from his honeymoon, a new husband sought to build a house for his bride and stepchildren.
On a sunny day he walked to the river flats and shoveled pile after pile of heavy, steaming mud into his wheelbarrow.
Yet, upon hauling it back to his new family's tent, so tired was he that he said to himself, "This mud is heavy and caked, and will work just fine as it is!"
So he shaped the mud into blocks, and he and his family piled them up into a house, and rejoiced at their new home.
But later

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Mar 9, 2013 at 07:01:00 PM

Aphorism of the Week

Violence is the abduction of will -- and hence of reason.

Dedicated to the reauthorization into U.S. law of the Violence Against Women Act, newly expanded to protect abused women who are lesbians, live on Native American reservations, or are undocumented immigrants; and dedicated to National Women's History Month, for all women worldwide who have fought for their civil rights to live as human beings, not as chattel for men.

Parable of the Week

The Chattel, The Wife
Husband and wife, they loved each other as equals.
He commuted to work, they both raised their beloved sons and daughters, and she chose to maintain their home until getting a job herself.
Next door there lived another husband and wife -- but which the husband insisted was "man and wife."
He proclaimed

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Mar 2, 2013 at 10:03:42 PM

Aphorism of the Week

You are your likeliest saboteur.

Dedicated in supplication to the College of Cardinals to choose wisely -- and for the future, not the past, of Catholicism.

Parable of the Week

The Moon, The Sun
Under the parental gaze of the Sun and the Moon, the tribe lived bright days and starry nights.
In the tribe lived a wise Elder.
After a young tribeswoman had refused a suitor's overture to wed, and been shunned by the tribesmen for her refusal, she ran crying to the Elder -- who sat, walking stick by her side in the dirt, enjoying the shade of a large tree not quite as old as herself.
The young woman kneeled before the Elder, plucked at the hem of her shift, and confessed.
"Elder, I don't want to marry! If I marry, I must raise babies! But I want to start a business, and

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Feb 23, 2013 at 10:15:19 PM

Aphorism of the Week

If you stumble carrying your torch, pass it on.

Parable of the Week

The Ember, The Fire
Rain hissed along the thatch roof of a hut on the moor.
Inside the hut, an old man and his grandchild sat staring into the fireplace, where burned a single log.
"Tend to the fire, grandson," said the old man, as he went outside to feed their mule.
But the grandson lay back, arms behind his head, and daydreamed. Soon he dozed off.
When the old man returned to the fire, nothing remained of it except a small pile of black ash with a single, glowing-red ember.
"I told you to tend the fire, child!" the old man chided the boy. Then he gathered fine, dried root and straw, dipped them into the ember, and gently blew on it.
And, once more, flames sprang into life, reflected as a dancing

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Posted by: Frank Burton on Feb 8, 2013 at 04:22:33 PM

Aphorism of the Week

All you need to rock the boat is brain waves.

Dedicated to President Barack Obama's Second Inaugural Address' pluralistic rationalist call to "replace name-calling with reasoned debate."

Parable of the Week

The Engine, The Driver
Three race cars sat on the track.
The first race car was but a shell on wheels, its engine removed. The driver pushed the eviscerated car to the starting line, hopped into the seat, grabbed the wheel -- and bobbed back and forth behind the steering column like a wind-up toy. The eviscerated shell of the racer rocked gently on the asphalt.
The second race car was a Formula One racer, with a massive engine -- but no driver. The racer idled in neutral, its throbbing engine powerless to budge it even one inch.
The last race car was a small convertible

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