Good Morning Digital Neighbors and Friends! Happy Thursday Supporters, Members and Visitors to the stomping grounds of the WSN and ADD Irregulars! I has been a fun tour through Epic English Words and there are so many more words to explore and tumble around in our vocabulary. Off to Mr. Devoe's little collection of fun words.
Booboisie [boob -wa-Zee] Boobs as a class; a large portion of the general public regard as consisting of uncultured or ignorant boobs; {play upon bourgeoisie} slang.
The Establishment in the WEST and its Cabal of Controllers that try to manage our lives, limit our speech and reprogram our thinking believe that the public is nothing but a bunch of booboisie when in fact the collection of boobs is the Cabal. Contempt for the public is one of the hallmarks of corruption down thought the ages among "leaders" of society. The best thing that can happen is repeated reform and occasional revolutions or conquests that purges the leadership. Sadly for humanity, meet the new boss the same as the old boss is a reoccurring reality with just a few exceptions.
Even when systems or governments are established to cultivate liberty and the rights of the citizenry, such things are subject to creeping corruption. No individual, no institution is free of corruption, only vigilance and constant reform can keep it from rapid growth and the spread. Power is a very tempting drug that few can resist. It doesn't always corrupt, but rare are the souls to wield it with humility and dispense with it when they are finished.
Booboisie is such a fun sounding word. I don't doubt that there are many boobs among us, in fact you or I might be a boob, but boobs should not be viewed with contempt and disdain, but rather as individuals who might be prompted to become more engaged, more informed and more aware of what matters in life, their personal life as well as the life of the society they form.
I am sure one of the biggest traps is our world of glowing screens that tempts us to lives of distraction and diversion. I know that is ironic as I sit here and you read there across the world of our glowing screens. Our illuminated windows of reality can be used for connecting with others, becoming more informed of life, society and self but also offer massive amounts of distraction and colossal wastes of time. The vast seas of the inter-webs can offer transformative treasures or ruinous poisons to thought and imagination.
Well my fellow boobs, choose wisely and surround yourself with people who try to do the same. They don't have be in your tribe, but they are should view reality with the same desire for understanding. Hopefully they are people of self-criticism and questioning minds who are willing to examine their own presumptions. It is tiring to examine how you arrived at your present experience and understanding but it is probably the only way to remain free from the pull of the actual mantra repeating booboisie.
All that babble over one word??? What about the second one?
Brank - To prance; to caper; to toss the head; as a horse trying to spur the bit.
Branking about to lose the bit, perhaps there needs to be more branking in society and culture. Questions, questions, questions - it drive you nuts when your 4 year old child does it, but thoughtful questions can make a world of difference. Asking the right questions, or at least good ones, is one of the the real springboards to self-understanding, personal growth and the ability to make your little acre of reality a bit better for yourself and the guests who visit your life. Branking Boobs rise up! Happy Thursday my friends.
Spring Barn Photograph by David Armstrong
Today marks the three hundred and thirtieth birthday of the Frenchman François-Marie Arouet, better known by his nom de plume, Voltaire (1694-1778).
Born into a bourgeois family during the reign of Louis XIV, the “Sun King” (r. 1643-1715), Voltaire suffered tragedy at a young age when his mother died. Never close with his father or brother, Voltaire exhibited a rebellious attitude toward authority from his youth. His brilliant mind was fostered in the care of the Society of Jesus, who introduced him to the joys of literature and theater. Despite his later criticisms against the Church, Voltaire, throughout his life, fondly recalled his dedicated Jesuit teachers.
Although he spent time as a civil servant in the French embassy to the Hague, Voltaire’s main love was writing—an endeavor where he excelled in various genres, including poetry, which led to his appointment as the royal court poet for King Louis XV. Widely recognized as one of the greatest French writers, and even hyperbolically referred to by ...
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XIII
The Proud Minister
One day there came into the Garden a man in torn clothes badly bruised and cut, who said to the Lover, “In the name of the Beloved I demand your help.”
So the Lover and the Disciple let him in and dressed his wounds and prepared the best of the vegetables from the Garden for him to eat. When his wounds had been dressed and he had eaten and rested the Lover asked him how he had fallen into this plight, to which the man replied, “I was Minister of the Beloved in a city near this place, where I preached His gospel and expounded His doctrine to the people. I pointed out to them how their sins had made them wholly hateful to the Beloved and how therefore they were utterly beyond the range of His love and He would condemn them to eternal torments, whereon some fell into despair and wept bitterly but many were angry. One day the magistrates called me before them and begged me to leave the city and preach elsewhere for they said I had made many people so angry and desperate that they feared there might be a riot and they might not be able to protect me but that I might suffer some injury. I, however, very zealous for the Beloved and believing that the magistrates only feared that their own sins might be proclaimed, preached the more vehemently, denounced the magistrates and made it abundantly clear that the whole wicked city was foredoomed to eternal punishment by the just provision of the Beloved. Whereon a mob, stirred up no doubt by the corrupt and venal magistrates, fell upon me with sticks and stones, nearly killing me and driving me out of the city in the state in which I came to you.”
“My friend,” said the Lover, “this was not a good deed of yours, for besides denying the unfathomable compassion of the Beloved, you have by your obstinacy caused these people to commit a grievous sin, and this cannot be pleasing to the Beloved, that through you who profess to be His minister the people should become worse. Surely you remember that He Himself said, ‘If they persecute you in one city flee to another.’”
Therefore the man was very angry, and cursing the Lover, said, “I see that I have had a very false report of you and I do not believe that you are a servant of the Beloved at all. When I came to you so injured for the Beloved’s sake you set before me only herbs and fruits although the garden is full of birds which you could have killed to make me a worthy meal. I shall proclaim everywhere that you are no true servant of the Beloved but a mere falterer who dares not suffer in the cause of the Beloved. Be sure that you are foreordained to eternal torments who suffer nothing here.”
For the man was so blinded by his own pride that he could not perceive the scars on the hands and feet and the brows of the Lover nor how the cloth beneath the armpits of his tunic was dyed with a red dye. So he went out of the Garden cursing and shouting.
But the Lover looked sad and said, “A man like this does much harm to the cause of the Beloved, for by thus speaking falsely about the Beloved he may bring men to fear Him but none to love Him, and by love alone can any man approach the Beloved.”
