

As I often do, this morning I revisited a movie I saw a few years ago, The Constant Gardener.
In that movie, a British activist and a Kenyan doctor work to expose the pharmaceutical companies that experiment with new drugs on Kenyan people, who die from the experimental drugs. The activist and the doctor get gunned down by Kenyan hired thugs.
No big deal, so why am I weeping every time I think of it?
So this morning I looked at it.
This is what I saw:
It’s a purely cultural rule to see value in life. Without that rule, human gre










Ask anyone; the happiest moments of one’s life are the moment when we find ourselves in our vertical self… or at least centered and grounded in the bottom of it.
What is choice, really? Do you ever choose? Probably not.
Take up one idea. Make that one idea your life
The tribes that live near the North Pole have lots of words for snow. Syracuse people have one: snooow… that is pronounced with a guttural growl.