Eclectic is my reading and memory is short. to find mullings later: Here I come.

Lucky people generate good fortune via four basic principles. They are skilled at creating and noticing chance opportunities, make lucky decisions by listening to their intuition, create self-fulfilling prophesies via positive expectations, and adopt a resilient attitude that transforms bad luck into good.

Findings from research psychologist Richard Wiseman, author of The Luck Factor, who also asked a sample pool of volunteers to spend a month applying these four principles and found that 80% emerged “happier, more satisfied with their lives and, perhaps most important of all, luckier.”

Pair with how to make your own luck.

(via explore-blog)

explore-blog:

C.S. Lewis's ideal daily routine

Obviously, he had no idea about email. I now get virtually no mail but …

explore-blog:

C.S. Lewis's ideal daily routine

Obviously, he had no idea about email. I now get virtually no mail but …

explore-blog:

it legendary social scientist John Gardner on our fear of failure and what children can teach us about taking risks – timeless wisdom from half a century ago:

explore-blog:

it legendary social scientist John Gardner on our fear of failure and what children can teach us about taking risks – timeless wisdom from half a century ago:

the pursuit of money and possessions takes time away from more personally fulfilling activities and social relationships.

God’s Two Books, Nature and the Bible: atheists don’t know how to read the one, and inerrantists don’t know how to read the other. It is not accidental that poets among them are few.

Rosa Luxemburg described from a prison cell in 1915 in her magnicent Junius Pamphlet in these searing paragraphs that are worth repeating in their entirety:
‘The scene has changed fundamentally. The six weeks’ march to Paris has grown into a world drama. Mass slaughter has become the tiresome and monotonous business of the day and the end is no closer. Bourgeois statecraft is held fast in its own vise. The spirits summoned up can no longer be exorcised. Gone is the euphoria. Gone the patriotic noise in the streets, the chase after the gold-colored automobile, one false telegram after another, the wells poisoned by cholera, the Russian students heaving bombs over every railway bridge in Berlin, the French airplanes over Nuremberg, the spy hunting public running amok in the streets, the swaying crowds in the coffee shops with ear-deafening patriotic songs surging ever higher, whole city neighborhoods transformed into mobs ready to denounce, to mistreat women, to shout hurrah and to induce delirium in themselves by means of wild rumors. Gone, too, is the atmosphere of ritual murder, the Kishinev air where the crossing guard is the only remaining representative of human dignity. The spectacle is over. German scholars, those “stumbling lemurs,” have been whistled off the stage long ago. The trains full of reservists are no longer accompanied by virgins fainting from pure jubilation. They no longer greet the people from the windows of the train with joyous smiles. Carrying their packs, they quietly trot along the streets where the public goes about its daily business with aggrieved visages. In the prosaic atmosphere of pale day there sounds a different chorus – the hoarse cries of the vulture and the hyenas of the battlefield. Ten thousand tarpaulins guaranteed up to regulations! A hundred thousand kilos of bacon, cocoa powder, coffee-substitute – c.o.d, immediate delivery! Hand grenades, lathes, cartridge pouches, marriage bureaus for widows of the fallen, leather belts, jobbers for war orders – serious offers only! The cannon fodder loaded onto trains in August and September is moldering in the killing fields of Belgium, the Vosges, and Masurian Lakes where the profits are springing up like weeds. It’s a question of getting the harvest into the barn quickly. Across the ocean stretch thousands of greedy hands to snatch it up. Business thrives in the ruins. Cities become piles of ruins; villages become cemeteries; countries, deserts; populations are beggared; churches, horse stalls. International law, treaties and alliances, the most sacred words and the highest authority have been torn in shreds. Every sovereign “by the grace of God” is called a rogue and lying scoundrel by his cousin on the other side. Every diplomat is a cunning rascal to his colleagues in the other party. Every government sees every other as dooming its own people and worthy only of universal contempt. There are food riots in Venice, in Lisbon, Moscow, Singapore. There is plague in Russia, and misery and despair everywhere. Violated, dishonored, wading in blood, dripping filth – there stands bourgeois society. This is it [in reality]. Not all spic and span and moral, with pretense to culture, philosophy, ethics, order, peace, and the rule of law – but the ravening beast, the witches’ sabbath of anarchy, a plague to culture and humanity. Thus it reveals itself in its true, its naked form.’

Challenging unreconstructed masculinity is surely a priority, too. The organisation Calm has launched an initiative called “#mandictionary”, encouraging men to take on “archaic male stereotypes” and “define themselves on their own terms”.

What if, instead of a static set of rules, life with God is one that welcomes movement? And, what if that movement is characterized by holy surprise – the kind of surprise for which the only response is laughter? The kind of surprise for which the only response is a party, a party like this world has never seen. Scripture attests to holy surprise.

To all humans you owe a basic loving-kindness, which … means not spitting on them, not physically injuring them as you dash for a subway seat, and not taking up more than one parking space. Beyond these basic niceties, reciprocity is the key to every relationship. This is the basic sin of the street workers: they ask for more than this basic consideration (by blocking your way, by taking up your time, by asking for money) but give zero back. You owe them nothing, … pretend that they do not exist.

If economists are allowed to discuss religion in economic terms, then we should also be allowed to view economists as a religious group.

we believed that markets are self-regulating, but very often they are not. To me the invisible hand of the market is just wishful thinking, like a prayer. It is very ironic that in economics we are so fascinated with our models that we believe they actually describe reality. In every school, children are taught that a model has nothing to do with the reality, it’s just a fictional space. That’s why your previous question doesn’t make much sense to me. We should not ask if models are true or untrue but whether they are useful or not

A new study appearing Aug. 1 in the journal Current Anthropology finds that human skulls changed in ways that indicate a lowering of testosterone levels at around the same time that culture was blossoming. “The modern human behaviors of technological innovation, making art and rapid cultural exchange probably came at the same time that we developed a more cooperative temperament,”

When people realise that the history of capitalism is full of highly successful state enterprises, the rush for ever more privatisation can be halted.

unconsumption:

One innovative company has created a vending machine that’s dispensing help for both the environment and our furry friends.

The Turkish company Pugedon recently introduced a vending machine in Istanbul that releases food and water for the city’s stray dogs in exchange for recycled plastic bottles, Big Think reported. Once someone deposits their bottle at the top, food is released at the bottom. The Pugedon Smart Recycling Boxes operate at no charge to the city, and the recycled bottles cover the cost of the food.

The simple machine will provide a steady source of sustenance to the animals, who often rely on the area’s residents to feed them. It’s also bringing some positive change to a place where the fate of stray animals has not always been a happy one.

Check out the video:

Many of us cannot help looking because of what Susan Sontag has called “the perennial seductiveness of war.” It is a kind of rubbernecking, staring at the bloody aftermath of something that is not an act of God but of man. The effect, as Ms. Sontag pointed out in an essay in The New Yorker in 2002, is anything but certain.

“Making suffering loom larger, by globalizing it, may spur people to feel they ought to ‘care’ more,” she wrote. “It also invites them to feel that the sufferings and misfortunes are too vast, too irrevocable, too epic to be much changed by any local, political intervention.”

So now that war comes to us in real time, do we feel helpless or empowered? Do we care more, or will the ubiquity of images and information desensitize us to the point where human suffering loses meaning when it is part of a scroll that includes a video of your niece twerking? Oh, we say as our index finger navigates to the next item, another one of those.

As war becomes a more remote, mechanized activity, posts and images from the target area have significant value. When a trigger gets pulled or bombs explode, real people are often on the wrong end of it. And bearing witness to the consequences gives meaning to what we see.